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fillinforlater · 3 months

Text

Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection).

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around.

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well.

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out.

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity.

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is.

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen?

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #ive smut #male reader smut #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive gaeul smut

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tarjapearce · 3 months

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Ok, ok, ok, hear me out….

Tarzan Miguel…

Ahh, nonny. Casually just saw this scrumptious fanart of him as Tarzan by @Miuworm in X 🫠. And yeah. (Kinda amazed at how you guys manifest these things 🤭)

Like Me

Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: nothing too bad. Depictions of violence, a bit of implicit gore and animal death. No proofread.

Summary: Your savior from a certain death is quite touchy-feely.

Another for Miguelverse ❤️✨

The furious waves of the sea clashed over your body, submerging it in the freezing and alive water.

Arms moved, swimming your way back up, gasping for a much needed gulp of air as soon as you reached the surface.

Peeking around you, trying to find something to get a hold of or climb on, exhaustion was crawling up to your limbs, like hypothermia.

Fuck

Mind cursed with every foul word you could've imagine. How did trip ended up like this? In what moment the clouds turned so grey they darkened the sky, announcing a downpour with a loud rumble? It all took minutes to go sour and south.

You were there to do a land recognition, and see if you could get home some new species. Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven The Hunter, was the lead of your expedition, all financed by a man named Kingpin.

Your name was called, echoed in the distance.

"Over here!!" You flailed your arms in an attempt of being seen, and hopefully the debris wouldn't blear their sight to find you.

You swam in the direction of the voice, teeth clattered, tool belt heavy on your hips, but you knew if you lost them, any possible chance of getting another were impossible. Plus, Kraven hated it when you lost your equipment as they weren't cheap.

Every paddle of your arms felt heavier, like if your wrists had been tied up with iron pounds, dragging you down. Lips turned blue and trembled. Salty and cold water doused you, but you weren't to give up.

You had fought your way to get a spot in this expedition and a pathetic ending like drowning wasn't an option. You spotted a wooden board floating nearby.

C'mon!

Your hands stretched towards it anf finally managed to keep yourself afloat. Panting, groaning and shivering, letting the cold to finally sink in. Feet had started to numb out, ragged breaths turned laborious.

Once more someone called you, this time you recognised the voice. Peter, the other nerd according to Kraven. You two were the ones selected to be the scientist that would lead Kraven to a certain victory in Nueva York.

Ever since Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius had discovered new species of spiders and reptiles, everyone proclaimed them geniuses ahead of their time, leaving the hunting behind.

Kraven was set into getting either a new species or something alike to regain his forlorn glory. He refused to be forgotten.

But everything pointed that the island you were now had a mind of its own. As if preventing anyone to delve in further into it's secrets.

You were pulled out from the board by Peter that immediately covered you up in a raggedy blanket. Despite the fabric being old, it gave you enough warmth to avoid death taking a hold on you.

Kraven cursed in russian, but was hopeful y'all be found soon. The ship's black box was ruined, your luggage at least was minimal, and it was enough to be saved by ether Peter or anyone kind enough.

A powerful and enormous wave had turned the boat upside-down. Knocking everything loose out of the board. The guns and other tools were the only things that survived.

But, you hoped, the whole fiasco was just temporary. Fisk wasn't a careless man, he'd probably send help soon. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your bones to freeze.

----

You woke up nearby the makeshift fireplace, relishing the heat your body had lacked. Clothes were humid, but no longer soaked and freezing.

Sighing, you stirred awake, letting the tension leave your body with a groan.

"Hey, wake up." Peter approached, concern etched into his features as he helped you on your feet.

"Where's everyone?"

"I... We uh, got lost. One moment Kraven is here and the other he's not. Left us behind. Or, he also got lost."

"Kraven? Lost?" Peter could sense the deadpan in your voice and he sighed, exasperated.

"I'm just trying to light up the mood. He was pissed. So I assume that he just thought he'd do it himself." He shrugged and you sighed, rubbing your neck.

"Great! now we're lost, my luggage is nowhere to be found but at least we have tools, right?"

The faltering in Peter's face made yours to fall as he shook his head.

"God, I swear... Fuck him. If I'm discovering something, Ain't sharing with him!"

"Let's focus on surviving first. The soil is rich, meaning the jungle is nearby."

"And so is the wild life." You sighed and Peter groaned.

"Look, thinking negatively won't take us anywhere. I'm not saying either let's throw a party for being stuck in an unknown place. But we gotta move. It's about to get dark."

"Right... You're right" You rubbed your face, exhausted, at least you weren't freezing anymore. But being at Nature's mercy wasn't pretty either, yet again. You were selected by none other than Sergei. If he trusted your judgement to be valuable enough, why couldn't you?

With a new resolution in mind, you took the raggedy blanket and other little tools Peter managed to salvage and soon ventured yourselves in the thickness of the jungle.

-----

Sun had long disappeared in the sky leaving a faint trail of golden and orange in the clouds, and you were certain that it had been hours since you walked in the jungle. No signs of Kraven or the caravan of people.

No signs of society or at least his stupid russian jokes that you were sure people laughed at by sheer convenience.

The only advantage Kraven possessed in his favor, was him being an avid hunter. You only studied species, animals and flowers to be more precise, and had a little knowledge of mechanics. Enough to fix your own machines and trinkets. Peter was an expert in mechanics and soil. You followed him.

"I think I've seen that rock before" Peter sighed as he slouched against a tree.

"Don't say that, Parker." You wheezed as you followed him, resting your aching back against him. "I'm definitely finding some poison and put it on Kraven's drink."

"Relax. Without us he's going into unknown territory."

"In case you haven't noticed, he's a professional hunter. And I hate with passion skirts."

The distant rumble of a storm approaching echoed through the sky.

"A hunter, not a geologist. He acts like an animal to get animal bodies."

"Still, he knows his way around these places, Pete."

"Shooting things till they're dead isn't knowing about things"

Peter stood and offered his hand.

"Uh-uh I just sat down."

"We gotta at least go upwards. This area is prone to flooding."

With a vexed groan you took Peter's hand and he pulled you up. You were tired of walking, but if he said you needed to advance, you obeyed.

"Fuck..."

----

Despite the soaking rain pouring around you, Peter had found an amalgamation of trees and branches supported by a hollow tree.

Birds chirped and cawed, bugs joined the concert once the rain subsided, the distant flapping of the birds and the rustle of leafs prevented you from lowering your guard. The only comforting thing besides Peter's company was the petrichor smell, pungent in the air.

You'd spend hours inhaling the gift of nature, if it wasn't for your belly grumbling, and Peter had ran out of cashews.

Even crickets sounded tempting to eat. With the right spices, they tasted crunchy. But all you could do was to imagine their taste as it was time to move again.

"Knowing Kraven, he'd go up to the mountains, probably they've sent a camp nearby a river. So let's look for one."

"Yeah, even better so I can drown that fucker in. He better pay us good for this stupid prank."

Peter chuckled and looked around for a minute, his blue eyes narrowed upon setting his sight in a tree trunk. Broken in half, but what truly made his... whatever this unpleasant feeling to rise within was the vicious marks indented on the tree bark.

Powerful scratches filled with bloody chum and crimson liquid, paw like marks painted in the trunk. The source of such gruesome spectacle laid in whatever pieces was left a couple of inches away. He could make out a tail, and small hind legs. A baby monkey, or rather half of it.

"Uh... We better hurry."

Peter swallowed, and the urgency in his tone only made your worry to shoot heavenwards.

You both walked, speeding up the step. Unaware of the keen eyes, hidden in the bushes that followed your every moves like a hawk. A low growl filled in the space he occupied.

---

You were certainly to die.

Undeniably, and it didn't matter how fast you managed to run, the jaguar quick paced trotting had you pushing your limits. Tears blurred your sight, as a garbled sob escaped your lips.

Scratches adorned your arms, decorating your flesh with fresh oozing wounds, dirt and leafs stuck to your marred flesh.

Chest heaved with deep and ragged pants, wobbly legs menaced to give in under the pressure at any second

You were going to die.

Even though life had been incredibly dull and the only comfort was your investigation, you didn't want it to end so soon. Not whenyou were about to accomplish a promise to yourself.

Peter had gone lost and separated once the chase began. One minute he was before you, and the other, your friend was gone, out of sight and reach. But the relentless giant feline behind you preferred you. An easy prey.

Your wails and cries for help fell upon deaf ears, who would listen to you in the middle of the jungle? For once you wished to have Kraven's gun expertise.

You didn't care if hypocrite defined you right now. You took a thick branch, swinging it with difficulty and pain at the euphoric beast, like a demotivated baseball player. But the jaguar's claws swatted the useless weapon away from your hands, and making you stumble on the ground.

This was it.

Oh God, oh my god, no, no no

The animal pounced and by instinct, you shielded your body with your shaky limbs. But no harm came.

You could feel the beast's warm and bloodthirsty breath on your head, snapping it's maws at you, desperately trying to reach for a bite of your supple flesh.

Eyes wide in horror, and disbelief. The jaguar was held by his tail, earning whoever that was holding it back from devouring you a couple of swings with it's sharp claws. But the animal was set into getting to you. It pounced on your boots, claws sinking on the back of hour ankles, earning a sobbing and painful wail.

A gruesome crack and a roar echoed behind you, and only then you were able to see your savior.

The tallest man you've ever seen, even taller than Kraven, strong and well built physique, a rich tanned skin full of scratches and long healed wounds. Hair long, reaching a bit past his shoulders, muscles that heaved and rippled in every breathing you did. Body hair etched beautifully in his skin.

Covered in nothing but a loincloth.

If it wasn't for you being at the death's gates, you'd take your time to study him.

You gasped as he held the oversized cat with his hands and slammed it on the ground. They circled eachother, shifting between the roles of hunter and prey.

The feline hissed, and the man returned the threat, a cold sweat ran down your spine upon watching two overgrown canines, on his mouth. Fangs. He had fangs. Brown eyes stared at the four legged monster, defying it.

And soon the jaguar took his invitation. The two majestic creatures fought, enraged, proving their prowess to eachother, disputing the role of Alpha within the jungle's hierarchy. They rolled on the ground, biting and clawing at eachother.

With a lurid snap the man cracked the beast's neck, earning an agonizing wail from the mean cat. He staggered before slamming his fist on the animal, forcing the last breaths out of the beast.

His nose flared, proudly, while his hands slammed his chest.

Terror was still taking a hold of you, and there was nothing you could use as a weapon. Your hands braced your shoulder as you tried to carefully stand, but your clumsy feet stepped in a branch, snapping it in half, like the jaguar's neck. Brown eyes were immediately on you.

You swallowed hard.

He approached, hunched and prowling over, his knuckles and toes supported his hulking frame.

"S-Stop!"

He quirked an eyebrow, curious and within seconds he was before you.

Breath hitched on your throat, face so close to yours, he could feel your breath blowing on his chin.

You hissed as he took a hold of your arm, examining the damage. There wasn't rage in his features but nothing more than untampered curiosity.

His hands reached for your hair, sniffing the strands, you couldn't help but giggle when his nose hovered over your head, sniffing you, a bad moment to be ticklish, really.

Breath caught again as his nose nuzzled your neck.

"W-Wai-" His fingers prodded at your lips, rubbing the calloused thumbs on your soft mouth. A satisfied grunt rumbled in his firm and hairy chest

He toyed with your face, examining it with child like wonder. He turned, prodded and licked your cheeks, reminiscing in your taste with a confused look.

"U-uh, sir-"

What is he doing? oh god.

He hunched even closer to rest his ear on your chest. Heart pumping violently inside your ribcage, eyes darted towards the covered mounds, he sank his face in between them, taking a deep inhale. A low growl came from within and your cheeks flared in a deep flush.

Oh shit, shit

His hands cupped your mounds, sending a shiver through your body, but you slapped his hand away. He looked taken aback before baring his teeth to you.

"No!" You covered your chest and backed away, but his nose flared to then grab your head and placed it on his chest a tad forcefully. Warm and plush skin met yours. You gulped again.

Powerful echoes boomed through his chest.

The natural musk of him tickled your senses, his hands roamed your lower back and your alarms flared.

"H-hey, hey!"

He pulled your feet up, sending you tumbling backward, skirt rolling down your thighs, exposing your legs to him.

You tried to cover your skin by gathering your skirt up. His nose again sniffled as your wriggled underneath him. Hands prodding and picking at your toes, earning a clumsy giggle

His touch was like molten lava, it sent a shudder down your spine.

His fingers were having a good feel of your flesh, as if confirming you were real.

With each discovery his interest only grew. He then cupped your face again, smooshing your cheeks together, giving a deliberate lick on your lips.

"T-The polite thing to do is to take me out before that happens!" You mumbled nervously while trying to get yourself free.

His eyes narrowed once more as he lifted up your skirt completely, revealing your panties.

It gave you little to no time to prepare you for his next move. He sunk his face in between your thighs taking a good whiff of your scent, another pleasant growl came from him, by reflex, your hand slapped him. And this made him look at you, confused but clearly upset while holding his cheek.

"No! Stop it!" You warned while gathering your skirt underneath your knees and pointing at him. Cheeks impossibly red

He seemed to understand as he crouched before you. Muscular thighs flexing as he sat, mimicking your actions.

"Uh, uh. No. Don't do that"

"Uh Uh, No. Don't do that"

He repeated with the same authoritarian tone. Voice surprisingly rich and alluring. Your eyes went wide.

"You can speak!"

He repeated like a parrot.

"Can... Can you understand me?"

His brows furrowed then quirked. He was about to come up with a reply when the rustling and your name being called echoed behind the foliage.

"Over here!!!" You shouted, this alarmed the man as he stood, backing up from you with a mistrustful glare.

"Wait! No no! Don't go!" Your hands wriggled, but it was futile.

He left before anyone could see him. Climbing the trees like it was another playground game, until he disappeared out of sight.

None other than Kraven showed up, machete on hand, swinging it the weeds and plants that dared to cross his way.

A shit eating smirk plastered on his face.

"See? I told you, she'd be fine." Kraven patted Peter's shoulder as they kept moving to find a perfect spot for the camp.

Kraven crouched to where the jaguar's body laid and looked at you.

"What happened?"

"I... don't know. I-I panicked. Was running from a snake and I found that there."

Sergei just hummed, as he watched the body, eyes raking the feline's carcass before beckoning two of his men closer.

"Skin him. Don't have this type yet."

Kraven took a deep inhale. Death's stench sparking alive the hunter in him.

"Whatever killed it, needs to be in my personal collection of trophies."

Peter in the meantime cleansed your wounds with water, to then apply some clean bandages on them.

The whole group moved, upwards to the mountains.

"What the heck happened!?" he whispered aggressively

You made sure for Kraven to be within a reasonable distance to speak again.

"You won't believe me if I'd tell you."

Cause in truth, how would you explain a man, taller than Sergei, killed with his bare hands a wild animal and got way too touchy with you but is able to speak?

The road was long. You had time

Peter sensed your discomfort and pressed no further. However, the feeling of being watched never waned. It was the group, against the jungle's secrets.

----

Taglist:

@fayeofthenightingale

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #Miguelverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x y/n

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P12)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: The reader wakes up and Joel is there to comfort her.

Warnings: ptsd, depression, brief mention of rape, panic attacks

Masterlist

Part 1 and 13

...............................................................

Joel was grateful that he didn't have to deal with snow anymore.

Y/N had been asleep for almost 48 hours now, and he was beginning to worry.

To give everyone a break, they hid in an abandoned RV.

Just until she could wake.

Joel stepped outside to talk to Ellie, who was sitting on a truck bed nearby.

"Ellie! I found this in there! Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee." And he held up the can like a kid on Christmas.

Ellie nodded, "Okay. Cool. Probably won't be as good when you cook it."

They both laughed, but those laughs turned serious as they both remembered Y/N.

…

Joel was startled by the loud gasp of air that came from the RV couch.

He quickly kneeled next to the couch that held Y/N. He took her head in the hands gently, "Y/N….? You awake?"

Her eyes opened just barely.

Joel let out a breath of relief, "Oh, sweet girl!"

She let out a whimper and squirmed in his hold, "D…stop… stop, please…"

Joel wanted to cry at the lack of strength she had left.

"Y/N. It's me…"

His words did nothing to soothe her.

Her hands came up to grab his, "I didn't do anything… please…"

Joel immediately let her go to give her space, letting his hand move away from her face and rest at her waist.

But this only made things worse.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She clawed at his hands in a desperate attempt to free herself from him.

Joel grabbed her face again, determined to let her recognize him. He pulled her face close to his and let his voice relax, "Y/N, you sweet, sweet woman. Please look at me. It's me. It's Joel."

She simply stared in fear.

He had seen her be scared many times, but never had she looked so terrified.

And it was from him.

"You know me." Joel tried to reason.

She cried out as she studied his face. A look of recognition crossed her features. "I… J…Joel? JOEL?!"

He smiled with a laugh, "Yeah! You're safe, honey…"

She jumped into his arms, crying into his shoulder.

He held her tightly, letting his arms wrap around her shaking frame.

He kissed the side of her head in relief, letting his eyes close to enjoy the moment while he had it.

"You okay, sweet girl?" He asked softly.

She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, "Is Ellie o…okay?"

Joel smiled and gently wiped at her tear-stained face, "Yes. You protected her. She's just fine. You need to tell me about you."

She shook her head, "'M fine."

Joel shook his head, "No. You need to be honest with me. I need to know what happened in there."

She sniffled, shaking her head as well.

Joel sighed in frustration.

He watched her eyes fill with tears again at his sigh. "Oh, honey. I didn't mean to-"

"-Plea…please don't hurt me, Joel…"

"W…what? Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you."

She was insistent, "p..promise me?"

He nodded without thought. "I'd promise you anything you wanted. You know that."

She seemed to accept his words.

But Joel saw the way the shine in her eyes dulled away.

…

"They had a guitar in that RV," Joel stated as they walked, "It was all smashed up but got me thinkin'. Maybe I should find one. I haven't played in forever."

Ellie nodded, following along with his trail of thoughts.

"In fact," he continued, "I was thinking maybe I could teach you. I bet you'd be great at it. Do you wanna learn how to play guitar?"

But she had turned her attention to Y/N, who walked on the other side of Joel like a skeleton that hadn't seen daylight.

Y/N was slowly turning into a shell.

"…Ellie?" Joel questioned.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds really cool." She nodded.

The three continued to walk. The man and girl occasionally threw worried looks at the other for the woman.

But neither of them knew what to do.

…

"I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down, maybe we go through that way. C'mon, I'll give you a boost."

But Ellie was distracted again.

Joel approached her again, following her eye line to see her staring at Y/N again.

The woman was sat on a crate nearby.

Her eyes never left Joel's frame, despite the empty look in her eyes.

Only then did Joel notice the hollowness of her cheeks.

The dark bags under her eyes.

The constant shivering of her entire body despite being fully dressed in 80 degree weather.

She hadn't spoken since the initial moment with him in the RV.

And that was a few days ago.

Ellie turned, "Boost. Got it."

When Joel moved to boost Ellie up, he saw Y/N slowly stand. He stopped her, "Hey, honey. You stay there. Just a minute."

When she said nothing, he took that as an answer.

He boosted Ellie up with relative ease.

She picked up the ladder, but got distracted and dropped it, "Woah…"

It crashed on the floor loudly, making Y/N flinch terribly.

"Goddammit, Ellie!" Joel grumbled.

He turned back to his woman, "Sweet girl?"

She said nothing, her gaze already on him.

"Let's go up, yeah? Can we do that?"

She let out a soft sigh and stood.

…

It took the two a while to catch up to Ellie, but when they did, they were in awe.

Well, Joel was.

A giraffe at eye level.

He turned back to Y/N, "C'mon." And he offered his hand to her.

But she only stared at it.

He sighed and nodded, walking to Ellie alone.

Y/N watched from behind as they began to feed it.

She had been fighting with her mind.

She looked at the two in front of her. Her family. She knows them. She knows she does. She feels safe with them, but her mind only replays David's words and actions in her head.

And she was scared that he was right.

The giraffe began to walk away, and Ellie was determined to follow it. "C'mon, c'mon!"

Joel sighed and turned to follow her, walking to Y/N. He offered his hand once more.

She stared at it.

Then slowly took it.

Joel smiled as their fingers intertwined carefully.

…

The three stood on a balcony, taking in the fresh air.

Y/N sat on the opposite end, needing some time to herself.

"Look," Joel sighed at Ellie, "I don't know where this hospital is-"

"We'll find it."

"Sure," he nods, "It's just… Maybe there's nothing bad out there, but so far, there's always been something bad out there… We don't have to do this. I just want you to know that."

Ellie scoffed, "What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing. We go back to Tommy's. We forget about the whole damn thing."

Ellie stared at him in disbelief, "After everything we've been through. Everything I've done… What Y/N did… It can't be for nothing."

Joel felt his jaw clench in thought.

"I know you mean well," Ellie smiled, "I know you wanna protect me. You have. And when we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Tommy's, sheep ranch, the moon… I'll follow you anywhere you go."

Joel laughed under his breath.

"But," she continued, "There's no halfway with this. We finish what we start."

He finally nodded, "Alright."

"And," Ellie pointed at him, "When were you going to tell her about her son?"

Joel froze, "…w…what?"

"I read the note, Joel. I know."

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, "I will. I was gonna. But… I can't tell her anytime soon. Not in her state."

Ellie nodded.

"Tell me, Ellie… what do you think happened to her exactly?"

The girl sighed, "Joel, you know what probably happened. You're not stupid."

He nodded. "Guess I was just hoping you'd have something positive to say."

She gave a sad smile, "Not about this."

Joel let his eyes wander over to Y/N's meek frame.

The things he would do for her.

...................................................................

Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje, @ashleyfilm, @darling-imobsessed

#fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou

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nina-ya · 6 months

Text

Three Times You and Law Almost Confessed and The One Time That You Did

A/N: I did a similar thing with Sanji here Part 2! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None, fluff, the mildest Punk Hazard/Zou spoilers I dont even consider them spoilers WC: 1158

The banquet had come to a close, leaving everyone in a state of exhaustion. People were sprawled out in various positions, sleeping soundly in unconventional places: on the floor, at the banquet tables, and even atop one another. You and Law, however, remained the last ones awake. Seated together, your gaze was fixed upon the star-studded sky as you engaged in a quiet and intimate conversation about life, finding comfort in each other's presence.

As the minutes ticked by, the gentle lull of the night began to take its toll on you, and your eyelids grew heavy. Before you knew it, your head gently fell onto Law's shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep took hold of you. Law shifted slightly, draping his fluffy blue captain's coat over you to provide extra warmth. He then glanced down at your peaceful, slumbering form, his eyes tracing the contours of your features with affection.

Law couldn't help but find the courage to voice a confession he had long kept concealed. His lips parted, and he took a deep, steadying breath as if preparing to speak. Finally, in a delicate whisper, he admitted, "You know... I like you... a lot." His heartfelt words hung in the air, but they were met with silence on your end as you continued to sleep, completely unaware of the confession he had just shared. Law, a man known for his unwavering confidence and strength, was left a vulnerable and silent figure, only able to confess his true feelings when he was sure you couldn't hear him.

The night was vibrant and filled with the effects of a few too many drinks. You navigated the Polar Tang's corridors with a rum bottle in hand, your steps unsteady, until you eventually stumbled your way into Law's private quarters. Without a thought or even bothering to knock, you barged into his room. He looked at you in disbelief, but before he could utter a word, you made your way toward his desk and plunked yourself right on top of it.

The scene was a comical one, as you engaged in a drunken conversation with Law, who watched your drunken antics with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. Amidst your ramblings, the conversation took an unexpected turn towards the topic of love interests. Your alcohol-fueled state prompted you to declare, "You know, I actually really like someone." Law leaned in closer, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes as he asked, "Who's that someone?" Your response was on the tip of your tongue as you began, "I really like—" BOOM, the abrupt sound of something or someone crashing into something rather hard rudely interrupted you. Law swiftly dashed off to investigate the commotion, leaving your confession hanging in the air, unspoken for the time being.

You entered Law's quarters, the dim light casting a soft glow on the array of books, notes, and papers that cluttered his workspace. With his instructions in mind, you began your search for a specific notebook he had asked for. You picked up a notebook and started flipping through the pages, scanning for any signs that it might contain the information he needed. After a brief moment, you determined that this notebook wasn't the one, and you carefully placed it back among the others. Little did you know that if you had flipped just one more page, you would have stumbled upon a hidden treasure of emotions and love confessions scrawled across the pages.

If you had turned that final page, you would have found Law's private thoughts laid bare, the depth of his feelings revealed. One of the passages might have read:

“I wish I had the courage to admit these feelings, to let you in, but I am held back. Why? Do I think you’ll reject me? Am I just not ready to love or to be loved. Who knows, yet, I cannot deny the truth: I love you, and I always will."

But in that moment, the notebook remained closed, its secrets hidden, and the confessions unspoken. You left the room, unknowingly leaving behind the heartfelt sentiments that had the power to change everything between you and Law.

The moment had arrived. Law was preparing to leave for Punk Hazard, while the rest of the crew was bound for Zou. Everyone had exchanged their heartfelt goodbyes and well-wishes, but you found yourself unable to offer a proper farewell. As the time grew near, you could only muster a wave and a strained smile before quickly retreating to the crew's quarters, refusing to watch him depart. The weight of emotions was simply too much to bear.

The creak of the door broke the silence, and you quickly turned your head to discover who had entered, attempting to wipe away any stray tears that had escaped. It was Law. In the silence that enveloped the room, the two of you locked eyes, tension growing so thick that you could cut it with a knife. He then started to walk towards you. As he drew nearer, each step seemed to chip away at your facade, and when he finally reached you, your resolve shattered. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, and your sobs wracked your body, shaking you to your core. Without a word, Law pulled you into a tight embrace, allowing you to cry into his chest. The sound of your sobbing filled the room.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pleaded, "You can't go. You have to let me go with you!" Your voice wavered, the desperation evident in your words.

With a heavy sigh, Law spoke gently, "You know I can't let you do that."

"Please come back soon, come back safe. I need you to come back safe. I... I need you," you managed to express through your sobs, your emotions pouring out.

"I'll come back," he reassured you, his voice firm and resolute. "Look at me." With a gentle grip, he lifted your chin so your gaze met his. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips parted and he took a breath as if getting ready to speak, then, without words, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was nothing short of a desperate embrace.

It was a kiss born of need and longing, an exchange of emotions that left both of you breathless. His lips moved against yours with urgency, and you responded with equal passion, clinging to him as if he were your lifeline.

As he pulled back slightly, his warm breath brushed against your lips, "You better stay safe, because I will come back.” There is a pause between his words, “This can't be the first and last time I get to kiss you," he confessed, all of the unspoken emotions flooding out in that moment. The promise of a passionate future reunion lingered between you, leaving you both with a longing that would only intensify with time.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #one piece fluff #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x reader

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 7 months

Note

Hello! I hope you've had a nice day:)

🤭I really love your works! Could you write an Astarion fic where the (GN) reader is equally as flirty as he is? For example, reader and Astarion being the only ones awake in the night and all in all- just flirty talk.

(Not implying anything but.. Hypothetically. Hypothetically speaking, you could sprinkle in some spicy stuff too)

I'm sorry if that's not your thing! Feel free to ignore this 🧡

Leave You Speechless

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : while you keep watch over camp, a boring job, astarion keeps you company by the fire

warnings : tiniest bit sexual towards the end but nothing NSFW, PG 13 at best.

a/n : i kinda love this, loved the idea, hope i did it justice.

Sparks flew from the wood of the fire, landing in front of your leather adorned feet. You hadn’t bothered to take off your equipment when you returned to camp, and the party seemed to take this as a sign that you wanted to be on watch for the night. You didn’t, of course, but who are you to deny your duty. Everyone else did it, your turn was inevitable. You just wished it wasn’t so boring.

You picked at the fabric of your bedroll, fire crackling in the silence of the night. Maybe Halsin was awake? Or Astarion? Perhaps Gale was awake and he could keep your company with his magic.

“Well..don’t you look happy..” Your eyes flicker up to meet a pale face, red eyes creased in amusement, a small smirk playing at his lips. Of course he would be awake, only to annoy you. He takes no time to sit beside you, attentive to your features, his gaze never leaving your eyes.

“Careful darling, if you keep your eyebrows creased so angrily, you’ll get wrinkles.” His comment only makes you scrunch your face up more, a slender finger poking at the wrinkle between your eyebrows.

Without much thought you take your own finger and poke it in between his eyebrows, “You should take your own advice Astarion, clearly you’ve been angry a lot over your lifetime, aged quite poorly.” He scoffs, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything, speechless at your insult.

“Please..I have no wrinkles, I cannot age , don’t be stupid.” He pulls his finger away from you, now feeling at his own face, clearly you’ve struck an insecurity.

You feel your eyes roll at his antics, “ Cut it out with the dramatics, Astarion. I only tease. You should know how beautiful you are, I would expect as much from your vanity.” You throw a small piece of wood on the fire, looking away from him.

“Of course I know.. I just love the way it sounds coming from your lips,” You shoot him a look. You weren’t unfamiliar with his flirting, in fact it wasn’t the first night that he had managed to wriggle his way by your side. Though this night would surely be the same, he would flirt with you till the son came up and you would pretend not to enjoy his company. God forbid he ever found out how much you truly enjoyed being around him, let alone that your feelings for him were more than platonic.

“Then perhaps I should compliment you more often then?” Astarion seems to be pulled towards you, shuffling closer to your side, intrigued by your willingness to comply with his flirtatiousness. “Oh..but then..I would never wanna inflate that unfortunate ego of yours..my love.” A soft poke on his nose, and his eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing in frustration.

He huffs, “You tease too much. You’ll admit you’re in love with me soon enough.”

“In love with you,” a scoff falls from your lips, and you're sure your annoyance sounds more superficial than you would’ve wished, “now you’ve started fabricating my feelings in your head? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one in love with me, not the other way around.”

“A shame your intelligence is rather lacking, or else you’d know better. You see through me transparently, darling.” He’s so close to you, a tease with intent to deceive and lower your guard, and you almost fall for it.

You push him away with your elbow, only hard enough to get his face away from you, but his body stays close. “What is it that you're trying to gain here, Astarion?” The tone you carry your words with seems to jab into his skin, the way he recoils away from you makes you almost regret it.

“Ughh..a moment ago you were referring to me as ‘my love’ and now you speak my name in such a sullen tone,” his slender fingers move to grasp at your own, you don’t pull away though you wish you would, “why must you deny me?”

He brings your hand up to his lip delicately, not wanting to startle you, as if you were a scared animal and you might run away at any moment. Though, you realized, that depiction might not be entirely untrue. You allowed it, breath hitching as his soft lips made contact with your knuckle, curving upwards in the gentlest of smiles.

“There..much better,” another gentle kiss, to each and everyone of your knuckle, “I like you much better when you're not arguing with your infatuation.”

“I like you much better when your mouth is occupied.”

“Perhaps we can find a way to occupy it then?” He’s staring up at you, pleading through his lashes, with your hand still limply held in his hand. He won’t let go, not even if you denied him now, he wouldn’t let go. His fingers are entangling themselves in yours, squeezing down.

“You’re absurd.”

“And you’re breathtaking...” It silences your voice completely, and his grip on your hand seems to tighten.

The world around you seems to take a pause along with you, the wind ceases to blow, holding its breath alongside you. There is no wildlife trilling or chirping anymore, silencing themselves to offer Astarion and you a full stage to yourselves. Even the snores, soft and aggressive from either side of the camp, go silent. They’re being blocked out, your head filled with Astarions image, your ears filled with the sound of his breathing. And your eyes, occupied by the way his tongue pokes out to swipe against his bottom lip, the way his own eyes dart along your face to analyze your features, the way his hand twitches in your own when your lips puff out.

In a moment of distracted, thoughtless boldness, too bold for your own good, fiendish desperation controlling your actions in full, your free hand moves to grasp onto the side of face to pull him in closer. He moves, under your control fully, pupils blown out in arousal. But then you hesitate, and his face becomes still in front of yours, lips hovering against each other. You let out a huff at your actions, disappointed in the way you must constantly fight against your desires, the air caught in your throat is released in a heavy sigh against his lips.

“It’s not like you to be so undecided..” His breath is feverish and heavy, tickling against your skin, his lips brushing against your own with every syllable. He is pleading with his eyes, fingers twitching against your own once more, too excited to control his own movements.

“Not like you to be so,” Before you can utter a rebuttal your words are cut short, Astarions lips finally connect to your own. Clearly he has grown impatient, and it shows in the way his fangs nip at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow it, his tongue passes your lips to wrestle with yours, and a whimper vibrates through him leaving your head spinning. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you would’ve fallen over.

He places one hand behind your body, using his own to push you down against your bedroll, without releasing your lips once. With hesitation he separates from you, breath heavy once more. Distracted, he doesn’t look at you, his fingers tracing along your waist until he meets the waistline of your leather pants.

“For once, darling, I would love to leave you speechless and not the other way around..allow me, won't you?” .” He smirks, looking up at you now with a mischievous glint in his eyes, fingers playing with the zipper of your pants.

“Gods you’re annoying..” You shoot him a glare, though you doubt it’s very menacing judging by the way your breath hitches and your cheeks are absolutely flushed, he tugs at the waistband pulling your leather pants down to your mid thigh.

But then you regain your edge, “Say please, and then maybe, I’ll allow it.” You place your hand back on his cheek, holding his face up, and the way he leans his cheek deeper into your hand almost makes you crumble again.

“Please, darling, pretty please..let me touch you.”

“That’s very good, my love.” You try to hide the way your breath leaves your lips in a shaky wave as you nod for him to proceed. He wastes no time as your pants are suddenly pulled down and off, Astarion climbing back up your legs.

His lips tug into a smile, lowering his head between your thighs, and you let out a whine as his teeth connect with the skin of your inner thigh. When he looks up to you, through the strands of his curls that have fallen in front of his face, a thin line of blood coats his lip. The way his tongue licks it away, sends a shiver through you.

And the look he gives you, worship heavy in his eyes, makes you aware of just how long this night is going to be for you.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #x reader #oneshot #bdg3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #gn reader #baldurs gate

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mackjlee9 · 10 months

Text

Task Force 141 x Male!Reader x Vladimir Makarov [Angst&Smut] |commission|

Warning; ghost x male reader, bad use of Russian sorry, violence, mentions of manipulation, short smut scene... Uh I might be forgetting something.

Masterlist. Commissions Rules.

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2022)

Every day was the same as it always was. He couldn't remember a day when waking up wasn't painful, surrounded by people screaming and groaning in pain while there was some cheering in the background.

He couldn't help but cringe at the sound of bones breaking, followed by the loudest cheering yet, letting everyone know there has been a "winner". (M/n) doesn't know how many days, weeks, months, or even years have passed since the first time he was taken to this place, but nothing had changed since his first day. He had been close to death more times than he could even remember.

Everything he knew about the place he was in is that its some kind of prison, and they were being kept in their cells or " rooms" until the next fight, the so-called; death arena. And well, yeah, it's exactly what you think it is.

Each passing day was a blur, mostly because he would be resting for days after being called to another fight, hating having to end someone's life just to entertain others. But one day, that fateful day, his life changed. For better or for worse, he couldn't tell, but it did.

A man named Makarov told a tale of how he had heard of this place, and he came by to maybe... buy one of their fighters, preferably, the strongest one.

That's how (M/n) found himself being woken up with freezing water was thrown on his face, making him jolt awake as he choked, having a hard time breathing.

"Get up, scum, you're leaving," he was roughly pushed out of his thin mattress, stumbling his way out of his cell and falling on his knees in front of an unknown male. He looked up and made eye contact with cold blue eyes, his (e/c) eyes observing every facial feature of the man, watching him smirking while breaking eye contact.

"I'll be going then," (M/n) watched the man reach his hand down to grab onto the chain attached to the collar he was wearing, "Let's go then, igrushka," blinking a few times, (M/n) got back up on his trembling legs and followed the men that kept tugging on his chain.

The moment the stepped outside he closed his eyes from the stinging pain caused by the natural light. He stood still, groaning as he covered his eyes, but soon, he was forced to keep walking.

"He looks like shit, Makarov," the mocking laugh of another man startled him, squinting and peeking through his fingers. Apparently, the man taking him was named Makarov... What a nice name...

And that was the beginning of it all.

At first, because of the lack of mental and emotional support (M/n) found himself clinging to Makarov as if his life depended on it, following after him like a lost puppy, developing some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. (M/n) felt in love with Makarov.

Or thought he did.

And Makarov took advantage of that, using him as if he was nothing but a toy for his pleasure, for his enjoyment, hearing (M/n) mumbling quietly 'I love you's at him, words Makarov could only chuckle at. Despite never hearing it back, the movement of Makarov's hips quickened, and (M/n) could only hold onto the male's hips as he thrusts his hips up, whining at the tight feeling around his cock, and that was all the reassurance he needed.

///////

(M/n) lived like that for years, following Makarov around, obediently listening to his orders, feeling like he lost bits and pieces of his soul whenever he was sent out to kill more people, constantly needing his love and reassurance to be able to continue on, but he was always met with being called a bother, or being told to move 'cause he was in the way, that he was a nuisance.

He was okay with that, telling himself that Makarov was just having a bad day, and he just had to unwind. (M/n) would let him, he will always let Makarov do anything he pleased.

But one night, (M/n) couldn't sleep. He kept turning around on his bed, it was one of those nights where the memories flashed in his mind, and it only got worse with the stress and self-doubt he felt during the day.

He took a deep breath and got up from the bed, slowly opening the door to his room, and walked around the halls of the facility he had memorized like the back of his hand for a short while, trying to clear his mind, dragging his bare feet on the cold ground.

His mind wandered around, observing the small details on the walls, noticing new scratches here and there, another piece of it peeling off, counting every step he took when he overhead voices nearby. (M/n) slowed his breathing, taking careful steps and pressing himself against the wall, peeking through one of the hall windows. Makarov was there, alongside Viktor, Kiril, and Lev.

"That igrushka has been getting on my nerves recently..." (M/n) held his breath for a moment, feeling his chest hurting at Makarov's words, "I'm gonna get rid of him, for good. He's useless now, and he's easily disposable."

The sound of him cocking his pistol made him release a gasp, and he saw how everyone turned toward the window, but (M/n) had turned around and was running toward the only exit that was open at this time of night. He could hear footsteps behind him, Makarov's voice calling him. Igrushka. Igrushka!

A single ricocheted by his head, making him halt for a moment, but he had to keep going, or he was gonna be a dead man soon. He didn't have much to live for anyway but... He didn't wanna die like this.

//////

His breath was ragged, his lungs painfully pressing against his ribs with every breath he took, his body trembling from the cold touch of the snowflakes landing on his exposed skin.

He had wandered around for long enough to see the sun rising on the horizon, his feet and hands numb, hugging himself to try and feel somehow heated, of course, it was a futile attempt. (M/n) walked for a few more minutes, wandering as far away as he could, but eventually, his body gave out, and passed out.

Being honest with himself, that's the last thing he's able to remember of that day, he's not sure what happened to him afterward, he only knows that he had woken up at a military medical base a few days later.

A man wearing a bucket hat approached him when he realized he was awake.

"Hey, nice to see you awake," (M/n) looked at him for a moment before blinking a few times while looking back down at his hands, "So..." The men sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath, "You got a name?"

Releasing a shaky breath, he nodded slowly, "I'm... (M/n)..." He added shortly, his voice meek and quiet, feeling his body tense and stiff with every small moment.

"Well, I'm John, John Price."

Unfortunately for Price, he hadn't been able to get anything else out of (M/n), except for the small 'no, sir' when he asked him if he had a place to stay. Price didn't know what the poor guy had gone through, but he was able to tell it wasn't nice by all the scars and fresh wounds on his body.

"Tell you what," Price stands up and beckons (M/n) to come with him, "You can stay with me and my team, if you don't mind," for a moment, (M/n) was skeptical, thinking this was gonna be the same situation it was with Makarov, but there was something in Price's eyes that made him trust him, not sure why, but he nodded at him and took the man's hand, accepting his help to stand up.

//////

Reaching their base was a long, silent, and tense car ride, (M/n) stared out the window the whole time, too out of himself to be able to speak normally for the time being, but eventually, he was brought back from within his mind to get out of the military jeep and following Price silently, ignoring curious looks he got because of his appearance, or just 'cause he was a new face around, he didn't know and he didn't care. Even so, his eyes looked around for a short while, realizing this place was the same as where he was with Makarov, everything seemed so similar yet so different from that place.

It was odd, as if he was just realizing that Makarov was the bad guy in all of this.

"And this is the 141 team," Price's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and everyone in the room looked at him making him flinch and lower his head, "Guys, this is (M/n), and... He's gonna stay here for a while."

Getting to know everyone around him proved to be difficult, but Soap and Gaz did their best to make him feel welcome. He felt at home, he felt safe. And he couldn't be more than grateful to Price for the chance of living a better life. (M/n) never said anything about his past, about the fights in that dead arena, about his relationship with Makarov, he never uttered a word about it, just briefly mentioning that he had a rough life ever since he was a kid.

Everyone was nice to him and treated him like one of them, which is exactly why he asked Price, if there was any way he could join the Task Force 141 team, and be with them because they were all he had.

It almost seemed like it was meant to be, like he was meant to be there his whole life. He had been discovering new sides and aspects of his personality, there was this bitter taste in the back of his mouth whenever he remembered how submissive he used to be, but now?

Now he had Lieutenant Riley cumming undone under him, almost unable to keep his moans and cries of pleasure quiet.

(M/n) kept a tight grip on Simon's hips, his thrusts deep and rough, barely pulling out as he watched closely every reaction on his face, observing his body shivering and squirming, trying to keep his noises down, but it was so hard when he felt like his guts were being rearranged, his eyes rolling back with every hit on his prostate.

"You like that, hm?" (M/n) whispered, reaching a hand up to wrap it around Simon's neck, not applying pressure, just keeping it there. The blond looked at him through wet eyelashes, nodding as many times as he could, whining while lifting his hips off the bed.

(M/n) chuckled and leaned down, pressing their lips together, as he stopped his movements, enjoying the desperate whines and pleas coming out of Simon's mouth.

"Don't stop, please- don't stop~ I'm gonna cum," licking his lips, (M/n) leaned back, determined on making Simon cum so many times he begs him to stop because it's too much for his sensitive cock, "(M/n)..."

His voice cut off as his mouth opened wide in a silent moan, his hips lifted and his back arching off the bed, his hands gripping the bedsheets, mumbling curses over and over, muttering how close he was to cumming.

But (M/n) didn't stop once Simon's cum stained his abdomen, his thrust only got faster and rougher, "Cum again for me, baby, come on I know you got it in ya'."

Simon whimpered as he shook his head no, his hands gripping (M/n)'s wrists, "No no no, please... I-I can't-!" He mumbled, crying at how sensitive his body felt, "Can't... Cum an-anymore, please!"

Groaning, (M/n) wrapped his hand around Simon's cock, hearing his cries getting louder as his body trembled under his grip, and with a few strokes of his hand, his flushed red cock was twitching as he came again, making a mess of himself.

Neither of them know how long they kept going, but they were certainly left out of breath and exhausted after that, cuddling and holding onto each other tightly.

To be honest, (M/n) never thought- well, he did, it was more like he never believed he would be able to live a happy life after all that had happened to him before now, but he wanted to enjoy, even when, a few hours later when the sun had begun rising, something was nagging him in the back of his mind, telling him that this happiness not only, wasn't gonna last forever, but it was gonna be shorter than be expected.

//////

This mission was important, extremely so.

Price briefed them, explaining the situation to them the best he could before showing them the picture of the men they had to stop and capture. (M/n) knew what he was getting into when his eyes hardened, looking at Makarov's features with hatred and disgust. He used to think that man had saved him... But he only took him from a shithole to another shithole, effectively leaving him more scarred than he already was.

He simply sighed and clenched his fists, Ghost noticed this and turned to look at (M/n), he seemed to be disturbed by something, taking note of how hard he was glaring at the picture on the table, placed atop the marked map where tactics had been carefully mapped. He wanted to ask, but he figured (M/n), like every other person in the room, had a personal vendetta against Makarov.

Immediately as the briefing was over, they were rushed to the army jeeps, spending the ride in silence or sleeping, but Ghost couldn't stop looking at (M/n), who had avoided any kind of physical contact for longer than need, the frown in his brow seemed to deepen with every passing minute, and he was worried, maybe... This was more personal than he had guessed.

Whilst the mission was rather "easy" capturing Makarov himself wasn't, the man was so used to escaping over and over again that he had many routes to go underground and just disappear. But (M/n) knows this place, it may not be Makarov's main hideout, but he has been here a couple of times, and he's well aware of all the places the Russian could go and knew exactly which one he was going to pick, it's his favourite go-to after all.

"Makarov!" (M/n)'s voice echoed off the tunnels as he followed the men, watching with rage eyes as he slowly came to a stop, chuckling as he turned around to face him.

Holding his pistol up and steady, (M/n) knew he had a clean shot to bring the man down, forever, but that wasn't their mission. He had to capture Makarov, alive. Maybe a few broken bones too.

"So you survived... All this time I thought my little plaything had died, but look at you..." Makarov took a step forward, his hand reaching behind him and (M/n) got ready to shoot him if he had to, but the Russian just tossed his pistol aside, getting rid of his assault rifle, gripping the handle of his knife, "Let's do this like real men, kid."

Taking a step to the right, (M/n) managed to dodge Makarov's attack, but he quickly realized that he needed both his hands to be able to fight him so, with gritted teeth, he threw his pistol and took his combat knife, taking a firm stance in front of Makarov, watching the cheeky smirk on his face... It made his blood boil.

This fight dragged on for longer than he expected, beginning to struggle against the punches, the kicks, and the knife swinging at him. (M/n) had been so sure that, even if he hadn't forgotten, he was over everything Makarov did to him, but he couldn't have been more wrong, the constants flashes of images appearing in his mind every time he blinked told him so, and Makarov had taken advantage of his state to pin him down to the ground.

"Only one of us is gonna get out alive of this one, igrushka." Makarov had ditched the knife and had wrapped his hands around (M/n)'s neck, sneering down at him, "Goodbye-"

Before he could finish his phrase, Ghost had sneaked up behind him after following all the grunts and groans, gripping his submachine gun and raising it, hitting the back of Makarov's head with the stock, successfully knocking him unconscious.

Ghost kicked Makarov off of (M/n)'s body, who was coughing as the oxygen returned to his lungs. His eyes saw Simon's boots, and he struggled to get back on his feet, dismissing the helping hand the blond wanted to give him.

"Let's... Just go... Fuck..." He muttered between coughs and groans as he stumbled his way out, knowing Simon was following him with Makarov on his shoulders.

He ignored the heavy stare in the back of his head as he reached for his pistol and holstered it, making the selective decision to leave his knife behind... He could always get a new one.

//////

Everyone was in the interrogation room, waiting for Makarov to wake up. (M/n) was tense and on edge, deciding on standing in the shadows, where he knew he couldn't be seen.

That's why he hated the shiver that ran down his spine when Makarov's eyes stared right into his, he knew he was there, he could hear his breathing over everyone else's. Fuck, even now, Makarov knew exactly how to get in (M/n)'s mind to destabilize him.

"It's been so long... Igrushka," the sound of his mocking voice and the words directed at him, made (M/n) blink a few times, looking away into the dark as he tried to ignore the flashing images in his mind, making him feel sick and disgusted.

"Go die, scum," Makarov laughed at his words, causing his body to shiver and tremble, (M/n)'s senses were heightened, able to feel everyone's stare on him, and he hated being in that place, in that specific situation, and Ghost had realized that, he was about to walk toward him, but Makarov spoke again.

"I guess you don't anything about him. Not at all."

Done with his games, Price pulled harder on the chain around Makarov's throat, making him choke but his expression of superiority never faltered.

"You know? I missed you, so much, we used to have so much fun together, and... We were so happy, but then you left, now I understand why," the sounds of his sweet and psychotic voice (M/n) snap. He was making it seem like they were actually a happy couple... How sickening. Everything Makarov had said made him feel sick.

With gritted teeth and clenched fists, (M/n) launched at him, fury burning in his (e/c) eyes.

"All you did was used me! You played with me! You ruined my life!" Before he could get close to hurting the men chained to the chair, Ghost and Soap held him back. Everyone watched how (M/n) struggled for a few seconds before falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face, eyes empty and void of all emotion, "I wanted to die every day I was with you, so don't you fucking dare say we were happy, Vladimir."

++++

@xdark-acadamiax thank you for your commission!

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kikarouflames · 4 months

Text

Levi x Reader: Fluff

Admiring Levi in his sleep.

He overworked himself to extreme exhaustion today, usually you have to force him to finally shut work up and go to sleep. But today when you found him already asleep, on his back, when you came back home, you couldn't help but wonder how much he must have actually tired himself out already. So you quietly slip into the sheets beside him. It is not very often you get to see him soft and vulnerable. For this wonder of a man is so busy putting up a strong front and back for everyone.

It feels so nice just to be by his side sometimes, his presence alone dissolves your fears. Nights like these, when instead of splendid, heavenly sex you just lay silently by the side of the man who never fails to make you happy, your heart is at the ease it will ever be just being with him. Small moments to cherish in hectic day to day life,coming home knowing the fact the man you would give anything for, the man who will give anything for you, is there waiting for you. Awake or asleep, doesn't matter. What matters is you finally have a place in the world.

Moonlight pours in through the window, painting the room in a beautiful hue, you just lay there by Levi's side, gazing over his face blessed with glow of moonlight. His pale skin shines, and his silky black hairs ,that are usually straight, are curled and frames his face with a magnificent contrast of dark and light, he looks so ethereal, almost as if God had sent his most beautiful boy to be by your side, to brighten your darkest night.

He shifts in his sleep, changes his position from being on his back to laying on his side. He comes in closer to you, seeking your warmth, your presence. He snuggles in, burries his face in your chest, and puts his arm around your waist to pull you in closer and entangle your legs with his. He finally settles after taking in your comforting scent, he let's out a relaxed breath, slipping back into his sleep.

You are a bit stunned by his action, you didn't expect him to snuggle in to you like a cat, but more so you were in awe at how sweetly cute he is. You can't help but grin wide, at his cuteness. You very carefully reach for your phone, making sure not to wake him up. You turn on the camera and click too many pictures of him and even record a little video of him being a sleepy cuddler. This memory will stay with you forever, and you can smile at it later at work.

You pinch his chubby rosy cheeks, sofly giggling to yourself when he let out a small groan. You gently map his beautiful features with your finger, admiring how his face looks so relaxed and even younger when he is asleep. He always gets all pouty and irritated whenever you try to squeeze his cheeks, it makes him more adorable in your eyes, but now you have full authority of letting your desire to play with the softness and smoothness of his cheeks and you record couple of videos doing that too.

Well the fun doesn't last long, when he suddenly grabs your hand and looks at you with a haze of lingering sleep, "what are you doing, baby?", God his voice is so deep yet so soft, you were caught off guard.

"Nothing, just admiring how beautiful you are in your sleep, it's nothing you can go back to sleep, baby" you say almost hurriedly, putting the phone away so he doesn't find all the cute pictures of him you just took. You feel a bit bad for waking him up from his so needed sleep but he was so adorable you could barely hold yourself back.

"Hmm is that so? okay. You should sleep as well, it is already late,darling" he says and yawns a little. He rises from his spot, pulls you in closer to him and kisses you on your lips sofly.

He falls back and drifts to sleep, leaving you blushing by the sudden romantic action. You decide to sleep as well since you wouldn't want to be late for work tomorrow but also because you were a little embarrassed.

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kryptid-writes · 4 months

Text

Always and Forever

Having known Astarion long before he was turned, an unexpected reunion with the man you once loved stirs up a whirlwind of emotions.

1.7k (angst&fluff)

To say your life had gone from uneventful to spiraling chaos in the course of a single day is an understatement. Having been abducted by mind flayers, surviving the crash of a nautiloid ship, and having a damn tadpole wriggling around your head, you’re now working with a group of unfortunate souls doomed to the same fate as you unless you can find a healer.

These strangers have all been rather welcoming in their own sense, some more than others. All of them except for one, a pale elf with a serious attitude problem. Since the moment you ran into him, he’s been very distant, always traveling behind the party or several paces ahead, never making eye contact, and avoiding conversations by all possible means.

What puzzles you is why he only acts that way towards you. He's had no problem engaging with the others. What had you done to piss him off? After all, you’ve been perfectly friendly, even offering to share your rations, an apple and a bottle of below average wine that he had so blatantly rejected without saying so much as a word. Instead, he just walked away to his tent, burying his nose in a book he suddenly found oh so interesting. The whole interaction has left an unpleasant taste in your mouth that wasn’t entirely the fault of the wine.

As night crept upon us, conversations died down and one by one everyone retired to their tent. Eventually, you follow suit, but sleep did not bless you this night. You stay awake, staring at the roof of your tent, pondering why the elf seemingly hates you so. The look of distaste on his pale face paints your mind, but the more you picture it, the more unsettled you feel.

On a subconscious level you recognized something in him. His sharp features, silvery voice, and charming smile felt so familiar, yet so foreign. Then it dawns on you. He’s someone you knew long ago. Of course, it’s been nearly two centuries and he looks a lot different now. You remember the way the sunlight brought the golden hues out of his brown hair. It was longer at the time, more neatly groomed. It was a beautiful contrast to his green eyes that were as deep as the forest itself. His skin was a warm tan from his time outdoors. Oh, how he loved the sun.

Astarion. How could you not have seen it before?

You step out of your tent, needing a breath of fresh air to clear your head of it all, and there sat in front of the weakening fire is the man you had once known so intimately. In a moment of courage, you quietly approached him, taking a seat by his side.

His gaze never left the fire, the warm glow reflecting in his dark, crimson eyes. Surely he knows you’re there, but perhaps he will continue to pretend you don’t exist. Perhaps that’s all he wants from you, to be left alone. But you’d be damned if you don’t say something. You have to know. You look into the fire, willing it to give you strength.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Your eyes stay fixed on the flames, waiting for some sort of response, if one was even to come. Astarion doesn't respond at first, your hope of getting any sort of response dwindling by the second.

“Indeed it has,” he finally replies, his voice uncharacteristically somber. The sweet man you once loved now looks as if the world has broken him into a million pieces, the warmth in his eyes long gone.

“It’s been, what? 200 years?”

“201, yes.” His gaze never falters from the fire, as if he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye.

“I almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different,” you try to say delicately, but the scowl on his face tells you he doesn’t take kindly to that comment.

“Yes, well, a lot has happened since then. I’m not the man you once knew.” His voice is cold.

“Fate is a cruel master, is it not?”

“That it is,” he replies with a somber expression. He exhales deeply from his nose, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

What… happened?” You ask cautiously, scared that he may scamper off like a wounded animal at any moment.

He sighs, his piercing eyes finally meeting yours, as if truly seeing you for the first time. It still makes your heart flutter as it did so long ago. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to share on his own accord.

“Do you remember the last night we spent together? That night at the tavern?” He asks.

“Of course I do, how could I forget? We had a lovely evening together at the tavern and spent, well, a rather intimate night together. One of many. I fell asleep in your arms, but when I awoke, you were gone,” your lips tug into a frown.

His expression mirrors yours, painting a mournful look. “I remember that night clearly despite it being many centuries ago. I had business to attend to, you know how it was. I meant to return to you before the sun rose, to hold you in my arms once again. But as it seems, fate had different plans for me.” His eyes dull as he speaks, like his mind has wandered far from here.

“I was attacked. A gang of vagrants. A tribe of wandering ‘Gur,’ took issue with a ruling I made. They beat me to death's door. When Cazador appeared, he chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life.” He looks to the sky for a moment, as if the stars would give him the chance to change the past.

“Given that my choices were ‘eternal life’ or ‘bleed to death on the streets’, I took him up on the offer.” He sighs.

“It was only afterwards I realized just how long eternity could be… an eternity without you.” His gaze meets yours, the pain in his eyes saying a thousand unspoken words.

You fall quiet, at a complete loss for words. You thought he had left you in cold blood. The love of your life gone in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. And perhaps the anger made it easier to accept, perhaps that’s why you’d let it consume you for so long. Finally hearing the truth after so many decades of anger, hurt, and confusion, leaves you with a deep feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you say quietly, the urge to reach out and comfort him tugs at your heart strings, but you resist, scared of how he may react.

He nods in acknowledgement, sitting in silence for a few moments.

“As it would happen, I became a slave, a vampire spawn kept by the Szarr family.” He looks at you with genuine care for the first time in centuries. “You must know I tried to get back to you. I tried to escape many times in hope I could see you just once more. But Cazador had a cruel sense of obedience. But being away from you when you were just within reach? That was the true torture.”

“Astarion…” Your voice comes out a weak whisper, stolen away by grief. Your heart truly breaks for him.

“The thought of being with you again kept me going. Even 200 years later, you’re my glimmer of hope in the darkness,” he says, letting his eyes fall closed for just a breath.

“Then why? Why avoid me when I'm right here?”

“Just look at me!” He snaps, centuries of pent up self hatred breaking through. “I don't need a reflection to see what I've become. A monster. A freak of nature driven by a lust for blood.” Angry tears prick his narrowed eyes. “The gentle, carefree man you once knew is dead. I’m a shell of the person you loved.”

Your heart shatters into a million pieces. Maybe it’s true, maybe the man you once knew is dead, broken by the world, but perhaps you could learn to love this version of him too.

“Astarion, you’re not a monster-”

He cuts you off before you can even finish. “You don’t know what I've done! The people I led back to Cazador, sentencing them to their death. There must have been a thousand of them, and I remember each and every one.” The chains of his actions weigh heavily on him. His body trembles, a whirlwind of emotions that he has repressed for centuries, now clashing together all at once in a miserable symphony.

“You did what you had to to survive.” You place your hand on his, the feeling of his soft skin bringing back so many memories. “That doesn’t make you a monster.”

“Could you…” He takes a deep breath, his voice shaking with nerves and doubt. “Could you still love someone like me?” His face softens, no longer hiding his vulnerability.

“Of course I could. I do. Star. My Star.” You intertwine your fingers with his. Your hands still fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.

He smiles a real genuine smile, possibly for the first time in centuries. “You… you still love me? Even after everything?”

“More than you know. I never stopped loving you. Even two centuries later, you’re who I dream of each night. some part of me hoped that one day I'd be in your arms again. I’ve never even taken another lover, no one could compare.” You lean your head against his shoulder, a gesture he gladly accepts.

“I love you too. I always will.” He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, quietly humming in content.

There's a comfortable silence that hangs in the air like a warm blanket, only broken by the soft pops of the fire and the occasional howl of the wind. For once, the world felt quiet, like it was only the two of you. When the morning dawns, so will the burdens that we carry: the tadpoles, the new form your lover’s taken, the years of conflicted emotions, but tonight none of that matters. All that matters is you’re back in Astarion’s arms once again.

A/N: I’m so sorry for my long hiatus, I got swept up in school work. But my semester is over now which gives me more time to write!

Masterlist

#Astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav

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tropes-and-tales · 6 months

Text

🤮 FINALLY

Day 9: Exhibitionism (Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Light angst, kinda; idiots in love; enemies to lovers but not really; smut (fingering; exhibitionism; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count: 5553

AN: This was requested by @elegantmusicdragon!

The cabin is small: it only has two bedrooms. The Miller brothers claim the loft bedroom on the second floor, the steep eaves of the roof leaving barely enough room for Will and Ben. Pope, as the group’s resident planner, helps himself to the slightly larger bedroom on the first floor.

It leaves you and Frankie in the living room. There’s a lumpy couch; there’s a thin, rolled-up mattress for the floor.

There’s also a fair amount of antagonism between the two of you. It’s not complete hatred: it’s love-hate, maybe. Begrudging respect. Admiration, but only if someone put a gun to your head and made you admit it.

You just irritate each other. Too similar in some ways, too different in others. Polar opposites in some aspects, the same person in others. It’s been the same as long as you’ve known each other: there’s a low-simmering annoyance with each other that eventually blows up in a fight, then cools off in a period of niceness until it cedes back to annoyance. It’s been that way for as long as you’ve known each other—for years.

The hooking up is new.

The hooking up is so new the guys don’t know about it. You haven’t been hooking up long enough to get caught. Hell, it’s so new that even the two of you can barely fathom it. Each time a dalliance ends, you both have the same stunned, sheepish expression, like neither of you can believe it happened.

But it keeps happening: Frankie shows up at your door in the middle of the night. You turn up on his porch on a Sunday afternoon. You call each other; the other comes over eagerly enough. The two of you sneak off at a group hang-out, and you reappear long moments later to the larger group one at a time, flustered or overcompensating by being too casual.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you told him the last time you hooked up.

“Obviously not,” he agreed. “This is insane.”

Neither of you really meant it.

-----

The cabin is a thing Pope is trying to do. It’s a tradition he wants to start in the wake of Tom’s death. A way to keep everyone together, even if just for a long weekend every fall: the gang may drift apart, but they can reassemble once a year at least, for good food and drink and sitting around the campfire.

Thursday, and everyone rolls into the rental property where the cabin is perched along the shore of a lake. The Miller brothers turn up together; Frankie comes alone. You catch a ride with Pope since he flew into your hometown.

Thursday, and it’s just take-out pizza and beer from the nearby village. It’s stocking the cabin with provisions, unpacking, settling in, claiming where you’ll each sleep for the weekend. Pope builds a fire in the massive fire pit outside just as the sun is setting, and Frankie feels a calm settle over his nerves. He’s been clean now for over a year, but the cravings come and go. He glances across from him and studies where you sit between Will and Pope: the firelight casts you in an orange light, throws your features in sharp relief where shadows fall. You’re quiet tonight—maybe your nerves are bad too. Frankie knows you have your own anxieties.

Thursday, and when it’s time to turn in, you don’t even bother to fight Frankie for the mattress on the floor. You take the lumpy couch, and you fall off to sleep within minutes, leaving Frankie to lie awake with his own thoughts for a long while.

-----

Friday, and everyone is back in their groove with each other. There’s the usual laughter, the usual ribbing. Pope knocks Frankie’s hat off his head. Ben feigns a series of punches at Pope. Will wraps his arm around your waist and spins you until you slap at his arm and shriek for him to release you. It’s easy and familiar, like slipping into a faded old t-shirt washed to velvety softness.

Pope organizes a hike to the summit of a nearby mountain. The weather is so crisp and the air so clean it hurts Frankie’s sinuses to breathe. At the summit, the views are spectacular, stretching for miles in all directions, the hills and dales and low-slung mountains of this patch of Appalachia. Frankie is reminded that not everything is so complicated: there are swaths of wilderness where life is simple, where his problems seem small and inconsequential.

You all settle on a flat stretch of rock and eat lunch, sandwiches and apples from a farmstand in town that you packed in for the hike. Frankie watches you peel out of your boots and socks and stretch your bare feet against the sun-warmed rock. The conversation flows naturally; everyone shares their latest life updates, their hopes for the near-future.

If Tom is with you, his ghost rests lightly between the five of you.

On the hike back, there’s a tricky stretch of the trail, a switchback that was easier to climb up than it is to climb down. Frankie is behind you, taking up the rear, and he loses the rhythm of his hiking cadence when you suddenly balk. He pulls up just in time to not run into you.

“C’mon,” he grumbles, exasperated. With Pope at the head of the group, Frankie has just been on auto-pilot, his feet leading him forward, but now he’s been yanked out of his reverie by your sudden stopping.

“Ground’s covered in scree,” you reply. Frankie watches as you take a tentative step forward, reach out a steadying hand along the outcropping of rock. You do this sometimes, he knows—you have sudden moments of freezing up, afraid to fall, afraid to stumble and jam up a wrist or twist an ankle. Frankie watches in exasperation as you suddenly transform from an assured hiker to a bumbling newborn foal, all shaky legged and trembling hands.

“C’mon,” he repeats. “Move.”

“Don’t rush me.” The words come out tense, pushed out between clenched teeth. You hate being weak, sure, but you hate being weak in front of others—especially Frankie.

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not.” You take another careful step forward, your toe knocking some of the scree loose.

“It’s not even that steep here.”

“I’m going as fast as I feel comfortable.” You turn your head, glance at him, and Frankie sees the animal panic in your wide, unblinking eyes, your nostrils flaring as you take shallow breaths. “Go around if you have to.”

He doesn’t have to go around you but he does. He heaves a sigh, edges around you on the trail, and he doesn’t miss the quiet little whimper of fear as you press yourself against the face of the mountain to make room for him. He doesn’t glance back to see that you’re fully frozen now, not moving at all—until Ben notices and reverses back to rescue you.

“Overthinking it?” he asks. Frankie can’t make out your reply, but it makes Ben chuckle, then add, “well, let’s get you off this part then, yeah?”

Friday, and Frankie learns that there’s an ugly streak of jealousy in him. Ben manages to peel you off of the mountain face with gentle teasing and good humor, and Ben is the one to wipe away the couple of shaky tears that squeezed out during your crisis of courage. The group rearranges itself: Pope then Will, then Frankie, and you and Ben at the rear, and Frankie seethes the rest of the hike back to hear the two of you joking and teasing.

Friday, and Frankie learns that he can be jealous over you. He’s quiet over dinner as he turns over this new intel about himself.

Friday, and when it’s time to turn in, you take the couch again. Frankie lies awake and watches you in the faint silvery moonlight streaming in through the curtains, and he berates himself for letting Ben step in where he could have intervened. Frankie could have been kinder, could have helped you. You’ve never been cruel to him about his own struggles. A little episode of panic on a low-stakes hike would have cost him nothing in terms of kindness.

Frankie does something he’s never done before with you.

“Hey,” he whispers. “You awake?”

You huff out heavy breath, a low groan. “I am now.”

A long stretch of silence passes. Frankie can’t quite get the words out; his tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth. Enough time passes that you sigh again, roll over on the squeaky couch.

“Sorry,” he manages to mutter. It comes out gruffer than he’d like, more mean-sounding.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” Now he sounds defensive, a bit petulant.

“Oh.” A beat, then, “for what?”

He rolls over on the mattress and faces where you lie feet apart from him, slightly higher than him on the couch. “For being a dick on the hike.”

“Ah.”

There’s another long beat of silence, and then the room lights up as you turn your phone on. He hears you tapping on it, and he asks what you’re doing.

“Just marking the date and time. Latitude and longitude.” In the white light cast across your face, Frankie can see your smirk. “Need to know where to put the memorial plaque when the time comes.”

“Huh?”

“You know.” You lock your phone and toss it aside, and Frankie hears you roll over to face him. In the scant light from the moon, he can just make out your face, still smirking. “The commemorative plaque. On this place and on such-and-such date, Francisco Morales offered the first apology in his life.”

Frankie bristles. “Funny, but I’ve apologized lots of times before.” He thinks of his ex-wife, his mother, Tom’s wife. He’s apologized plenty: for his bad behavior, for his poor choices, for all the ways he’s lacked as a son or a husband or a teammate.

“Not to me you haven’t.”

“Bullshit.” He rolls onto his back and stares up at the rough-hewn boards of the cabin’s ceiling. “I probably have.”

“Bullshit,” you retort. “You haven’t.”

“Well now I have, and I damned well regret it.”

You laugh softly, but it doesn’t have its usual bitter edge to it. You don’t add anything for so long that Frankie’s eyelids start to get heavy, but just as sleep starts to lap around his ankles, he hears you say, far softer than before, “I appreciate it, Fish.”

Friday, then: Frankie learns he has a jealous streak for you, and he learns that he can feel ashamed of how he sometimes treats you. Both revelations pale in comparison to how he feels to own up to his less-than-stellar behavior…and how he feels when you accept his apology rather than retaliate with your own less-than-stellar behavior.

-----

Saturday, and the day starts promising: sun in the blue sky, bird song, the wind rustling through the leaves. Storm clouds gather after noon, low and fast-moving, blotting out the sky, and the evening turns into a torrential storm.

You and Pope go into town to pick up more beer, a bottle of wine for dinner. Frankie and the Miller boys stay behind. Ben gets a headache and goes to nap it off, which leaves Frankie and Will alone on the cabin’s porch, watching the rain disturb the mirror surface of the lake as they nurse a couple of longnecks.

“Good to have everyone here,” Will offers after a while.

Frankie grunts in agreement. He doesn’t mention Tom, and neither does Will.

Will handles the bulk of the conversation, which is really just gossip about you and Pope and Ben since you’re all absent. It doesn’t come across as especially catty, though, since Will spins everything in his motivational lingo.

Then Will touches on you and Frankie’s rocky relationship. He takes a sip from his bottle and gives Frankie a sidelong glance, says, “heard the two of you talking last night. Surprised it didn’t end in yelling.”

Frankie snorts and takes a drink of his own beer. “First time for everything.” He shakes his head, rueful, and adds, “we’ve just never got along. You know that.”

Will nods in that irritatingly sage way he has now. “Well, you’re both crabs.”

“She makes me crabby. I’m usually fine otherwise.”

The man chuckles and shake his head. “Nah, I mean you’re both crabs. You’ve both got tough shells. Even if you could get out of your own shell, you’d have to get past hers and vice versa. Double walls up, whatever you want to call it. Makes it tough to connect.”

Frankie bites back the obvious response: that you and he connect plenty, in a carnal way, and that Will’s dumb analogy would crumble the moment Frankie mentions that the two of you fuck often, and that you don’t have a tough shell when he’s balls deep in you. Instead, he snorts again and says, “okay,” heavy on the sarcasm.

“The problem with a crab’s shell though,” Will adds in that faux-wise tone of his, “is that if you don’t shed them once in a while you can never grow.”

Frankie almost wishes you were here to hear this bullshit too. You’re irritating, but as a fellow crab, you’d tell Will to fuck off, to go play shrink with someone else.

-----

You and Pope return, and the two of you handle dinner together. Pope sears the steaks on the grill outside; you make fresh pasta and sauté late-season vegetables. Ben is pulled from the loft bedroom by the scent of the food, headache gone, and everyone circles up around the table to eat and drink.

The fire snaps in the fireplace and the rain drums against the roof, and Frankie hasn’t felt so relaxed since South America and the scramble over the Andes that ultimately claimed Tom’s life. He glances around the table, and it occurs to him that aside from his parents, the people he loves best in the world are all right here with him. Even you, he supposes.

He lets the good food and drink and warmth of the fire work against his anxiety. He feels the snarls and tangles of his tight muscles—those perpetually tense shoulders hiked up near his ears—unlock. He feels all those bad feelings, the constant self-doubt and low-level depression ebb into the distance. He is lulled into a drowsy state as he eats, as he sips at his wine, and he rejoins the conversation in process and finds himself jolted by its subject.

It's Pope needling you, and the man is clearly picking up a thread from earlier between the two of you. He’s asking you about some guy, some guy named Paolo, and Frankie feels an uncomfortable prickle along the back of his neck.

“Just call him sometime,” Pope tells you. “Grab a coffee or something.”

“Nah, Santi.” You push a bite of steak around your plate and don’t look up. “I don’t think so.”

“I think the two of you would get along.”

“I’m not really interested.”

“Why not?” Will interjects, catching up faster than Frankie. Then to Pope, “you trying to set her up?”

Pope nods at Will’s question as you shrug and mumble something about being out of the dating game for too long, and Frankie stares at you, wills you to look up at him, but you don’t.

“Which is why this is perfect,” Pope replies. “Paolo is coming out of a long-term thing. He needs a gentle reintroduction to dating too. C’mon…what would lunch hurt? Or dinner?”

“You should think about it,” Will adds. He glances over at Frankie, catches his eye. “Might help for you to get out of your shell.”

You laugh at that. “I think I’m good, William, but thanks.”

Then Ben gets in on it, Ben and Will and Pope cajoling you into dating this Paolo guy. The Millers point out your paltry dating history, your lack of serious relationships—you’ve never even lived with a guy, let alone edged up against an engagement or marriage. Pope tells you about Paolo, some coworker in his contracting work with a failed marriage, something about cheating, the man is hurting, blah blah. Frankie is shocked to find that his jealous streak isn’t just wide but deep—it feels like a bone-deep ache, a cold searing in his gut as the guys egg you on, try to convince you to just meet the dude.

“What do you say, Fish?” Pope asks, and Frankie glances up and finds your eyes settled on him. There’s a question there, but Frankie can’t see beyond his own tough exterior to know what it is.

“Sure,” he replies with a shrug he hopes looks nonchalant. “I’m sure this Paolo guy would love to be disappointed by you.”

Which earns him a punch in the shoulder from Ben, who’s sitting beside him, and rolled eyes from Pope, and a disappointed tsk-ing from Will.

Frankie doesn’t see how his barb lands with you, though. As soon as he launches it, he looks away, looks down at his plate, so he can’t see if you are hurt or not by him.

But he hears your reply to Pope. He hears you say, “you know what? Sure. Give him my number. I don’t have any better prospects.”

-----

The rest of the evening is a blur. There’s a robust game of poker, low stakes, and the beer flows steady as the conversation.

Frankie goes mute, only mumbles out monosyllabic answers when the conversation turns to him. His thoughts turn maudlin.

He always felt a step ahead of the guys. More mature. More of a man. Him and Tom, both: making the adult choice to marry instead of drifting around in the chaos of the post-army bachelor life. Where Pope and the Millers lived in bland beige apartment complexes, strung together short-term relationships and hook-ups, Frankie had a house with a wife. He felt a smug satisfaction when he’d meet up with the guys back then, like he and Tom were the sage elder statemen of the group.

You had been there too, of course, but it was different with you. Back then, Frankie used to compare you against his wife—you were the other woman in his life, so you were a handy comparison to his wife, Sophia. You were prickly where Soph was sweet. Opinionated where Soph wasn’t. When Frankie held the two of you up, it made Sophie shine brighter.

But now hindsight is twenty-twenty. Because Frankie always compared the two of you, he can’t help but craft an alternate universe where a marriage to you had faltered and then fell apart. With Soph, it had been ugly: she never spoke up, never held him to account for his increasingly bad behavior as his addiction took hold. She merely left one day—Frankie came home to an empty house and instructions to not reach out to her, that her lawyer would be in touch.

You’re the one who had confronted Frankie. You’re the one who arranged for the intervention, who chased him when he stormed out, who grabbed him by the arm and shook him, told him he had to get his shit together and get help. You’re the one who handled everything: packing his bag, getting him on the plane to the rehab. You found him a place for when he got out, you and Pope salvaging as much as you could from his marital home before it was sold as part of the divorce.

And now he’s back to square one, but even more so. He’s divorced. He’s a recovering addict. He’s got a bad back and a suspended pilot’s license. He’s nobody’s bargain, as the song goes, but he wonders how much his low mood right now is linked to you. Pope and the Millers talk you up, gas you up for this date with Pope’s buddy, and Frankie feels worse and worse the more he realizes you may slip away from him.

It's a startling revelation that he even cares. If asked, he’d lie and say he doesn’t, that you can date whoever you want, move away to wherever. That if he never sees you again, he’ll be perfectly okay, because the two of you have never gotten along and the hooking up has just been two bored, lonely people mutually using each other.

But he remembers a million little moments of you being…not kind, maybe. You’re prickly with your kindness, you sigh and roll your eyes when you do nice things for him, but you’re the one who started him on the path of recovery. You’re the one who stood in front of him at Tom’s wake and told him in a low voice that it wasn’t his fault, it was no one’s fault but Tom’s own greed.

Hell, he bets you’ve even taken the couch this whole time in the cabin because of his bad back.

Frankie feels like he’s close to some world-altering revelation, but it’s just beyond his grasp. Instead, he just stews: his memories circle around his failed marriage, how he was never further ahead than the guys after all. His memories shift to you then, circle around you: the most irritating person he’s ever known, yet the one who probably saved his life. The frustrating woman who has had his back for years, who squabbles with him and argues with him and (lately) has been fucking him with equal aplomb.

-----

When everyone turns in for the night, Frankie waits a long while before he hisses out your name. You don’t sigh or groan like he’s woken you up; you answer him by saying his name back with a questioning lilt.

“You can take the mattress if you want,” he whispers. “If the couch is uncomfortable.”

“It is, but I’m fine.” A beat, and you confirm his suspicion by adding, “your back.”

“Mattress is wide enough for both of us.”

He hears your quiet snort of laughter. “Nice try, Fish.”

“What?”

“You know what. If I lie down with you, you’ll get all handsy.”

Frankie smiles in the darkness. “You don’t mind my hands usually.”

Some spring deep in the couch squeals as you roll over. “We said we weren’t doing that anymore.”

“We say that every time,” Frankie points out. “And then you call me at two in the morning because you need it so bad.”

You snort. “I never need it.” You’re silent for a long moment, then add, “and anyway, I’m actually looking forward to meeting Pope’s friend.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.” Your voice does lose its snarky, insouciant tone—you sound uncharacteristically somber. “I need to get my shit together. I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

That stings Frankie a little, like all those moments with him don’t count, even though he knows they don’t. You’re talking about being alone, all those times you need someone to talk to or cuddle up with or just be with. Frankie and your hooking up isn’t any of that; it’s a lone moment of physicality without any of the intimacy.

“And you think Paolo is the one then?” he asks, and the name Paolo drips with disdain that he doesn’t bother to hide. You hear it, too.

“You sound jealous, Fish.”

“’m not.”

“Because I thought I was just gonna disappoint him anyway, so why would you be jealous?”

“Said I’m not.” He’s not jealous. He isn’t. The bloom of hot acid in his gut is something else entirely. Maybe Pope didn’t cook the steaks thoroughly enough. Maybe it was too much red wine.

Now your voice turns faux-casual, conversational, like you’re just gabbing with a girlfriend. “Do you think Paolo is hot?” you ask.

“Probably looks like a troll doll.”

“I bet he’s big. Huge.”

“Gross.”

“Bet he’s slinging a real hog around.”

Frankie scoffs. “Pope said he’s divorced because his wife cheated on him. He’s probably tiny.”

“Ooooh, you’re definitely jealous.” Another rustling of your blankets, and then Frankie feels it—your bare foot reaching down and out to where he lays, your cold toes kicking him lightly in the side. He swats at you, but you pull your foot back at the last minute with a laugh.

“Fuck off,” he grits out. “I’m not.”

Another playful kick that clips him in the shoulder. “Aw, Fish, did you fall for me? Are you in love? Are you—”

He’s quicker this time, and he catches your foot, catches his hand around your ankle and tugs you towards him. You squeal; he gets you halfway off the couch but not entirely and there’s a moment of tug-of-war. Frankie doesn’t release your ankle, and you try to break his hold, but Frankie (who knows how strong you are, how good you are at self-defense) doesn’t think you really fight him that hard.

Instead, you let him pull you the rest of the way onto the floor. You let him tug you across the short span between the couch and the mattress, and he’d smirk and gloat at how willingly you come to him, but within a second you are beside him. You smell smoky, like the snapping wood fire of the evening has burrowed into your hair, and you smell like the wet, washed-clean earth and loam, and you smell like the slightly-metallic water of the lake, and Frankie’s mouth finds yours, seals over yours, steals away any other teasing or arguing you may do.

Part of him hates how well the two of you fit together. For as much as you squabble and irritate each other, in these moments, you are perfectly in line with each other. On the same wavelength. Frankie kisses you deeply, tastes you beyond the mint of your toothpaste, and he still—even after all these moments, all these stolen interludes—gets a fluttery swoop in his gut when you slide your tongue against his.

He maneuvers you underneath him and you go willingly. Eagerly. He wishes sometimes he could read your mind. He wonders what you’re thinking in these moments. Have you been lying beside him the past few nights, wanting this to happen? Or are you only riled up and slick to his searching fingers because of the idea of this Paolo, a man who could theoretically assuage your loneliness?

The thought makes that deep streak of jealousy pulse inside him, so he breaks the kiss as his fingers slide into you. He feels how wet you are, always wet and hot for him, and he hisses into your ear, “this for me?”

“Fuck off, Fish.” You whisper it back, and in the wan moonlight, Frankie can see you glaring up at him.

He pulls his finger out, adds a second, pushes both into you. He catches how your eyelids flutter, how your lips part at the stretch of his digits. He studies your face as he pulls out, pushes back in a handful of times.

“Tell me,” he demands. He keeps his voice low, aware that the Millers are asleep in the loft above you and Pope is asleep in the bedroom just beyond the small galley kitchen.

“I said fuck off.” You enunciate the fuck clearly, catch your lower lip between your teeth as you hiss out the eff. As guilty as Frankie feels to compare you to his ex-wife, the differences are never more stark than here: Sophie had been completely soft, completely submissive in the bedroom, never quite willing to do more than a handful of positions or situations. Fucking you is like wrestling a wild cat sometimes, and you make him work for it, and Frankie kinda loves it.

He clucks his tongue in mock sympathy. He pushes his two fingers into you as deep as he can, then crooks them inside you, strokes your inner wall until you gasp underneath him.

“There it is,” he croons. He dips his head, drags the slick muscle of his tongue along your pulse point where your heartbeat jumps and thunders away. “Knew I’d find it.”

“Fish—”

“Always find it.” He moves his thumb, presses it lightly against your swollen clit. “Pope’s dumb fucking buddy could never.”

You laugh but it’s breathless as he works his hand against you. You tangle a hand in his hair and tug against him, steer his head back to you.

“Knew you were jealous, you asshole,” you whisper. You surge forward and nip at the side of his neck, and he bites back his own groan, hushes you, reminds you that the guys are nearby and you have to be quiet.

Frankie reaches down and shoves his sweatpants down enough to free his aching cock, and he doesn’t even bother to get you out of your sleep shorts. He only shoves them to the side and then removes his hand, guides his cock to replace his fingers. He hears the low groan you give at the contact, so he reaches up a hand and covers your mouth and pushes into you in one firm, deep thrust. His hand absorbs your moan as he mounts you, but he looses his own groan to be back inside your clenching heat. You both freeze for a long moment—his cock twitching inside you, your cunt bearing down on him—but none of the guys make a noise, so you proceed as quietly as you can.

You’re not nearly quiet enough.

*****

Pope is woken by the sound of a thump, like a body hitting the floor.

That’s exactly what it is: Frankie yanking you off of the couch, and just as Pope starts to wake up, starts to swing around and put his feet on the floor, he hears a moan.

Ben sleeps like the dead and hears nothing: not you and Frankie squabbling in whispers, not you and Frankie fucking, and not the furious clicking of Will in the other bed, texting back and forth with Pope. He’s only woken up later.

Will hears everything. He never fell asleep at all, only drowsed a bit, so he heard you and Frankie talking down below.

Then he hears the same thump as Pope, then the same moan.

His first thought is that Frankie has made you cry, that Frankie has said something mean enough to break that tough dam that holds back your emotions. But then he hears a gasp (yours), a low chuckle (Frankie’s) and he realizes what he’s hearing.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “No way.”

His cell phone, silenced, lights up with a message. Will unlocks it and sees that it is Pope.

Please tell me I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing, the text reads.

Will responds. Not sure, he types.

Pope: You got eyes on them???

Will: No way

Pope: Sounds like she’s crying. Need confirmation.

Will: NO

Pope: Ur in the loft. Confirm.

Will sighs, mutters “fuck.” It does sound like you’re crying and trying to hide it, breathy, bitten-back moans that could be crying or could be…you and Frankie fucking.

The former seems unlikely. Will’s never seen you cry, and he thinks he’s only heard you once—a similar gasping sound, through a flimsy motel room wall in Central America as you made your way back to the States with Tom’s body.

The latter—the thought of you and Frankie fucking—seems even more unlikely. Yet when he freezes, when he holds his own breath so long he hears his heart beating in his ears, Will swears he can hear the quiet rustling of fabric, heavy breathing that sounds more like Frankie.

He moves as slow as if he were on a mission. He turns around on the trundle bed and crawls to the edge of it, a millimeter at a time. He reaches the open doorway of the loft; there is no door, and it looks down at the first floor, and when he peers over the railing, he sees the two of you awash in silvery moonlight.

Frankie, on top of you. Your knees on either side of Frankie’s hips, one hand gripping his curls at the nape of his neck, the other hand reaching down and grasping his ass, guiding him where he fucks into you in slow, deep strokes.

Will doesn’t know why he never saw it before. This can’t be the first time between you—you move too well together. The two of you have always grated against each other, but no one ever really thought it was hatred. You and Frankie love each other in your own way, Will guesses, and maybe this is just a facet of that.

You helping Frankie get clean: another facet of that love.

Frankie going silent at the thought of you dating Pope’s work buddy: another facet of that love, perhaps?

Will retreats just as slowly. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, though he thinks he’ll need therapy to erase the vision of the two of you fucking from his mind. He climbs back into bed carefully, then texts Pope.

She’s not crying, he types out.

She’s not??? Pope replies.

Yeah, dude, Will types. She and Fish are fucking.

Pope responds with a puking emoji first, but then he adds, FINALLY.

#frankie morales #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales x reader #catfish morales #catfish morales imagine #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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cybercl0ne · 5 months

Text

Mine. // Stalker Shigaraki x f!reader // Part: 1

Summary: shigaraki has you in his arms and doesn’t plan on letting you go.

TW: 18+, stalking, non-con (rape), knife play, mentions of breeding, size kink

You wake up hazy and not in tune with much of anything. It’s pitch black and the atmosphere feels cold and thin. You frantically tried to remember the events that led you to this predicament but came up short when you blanked.

“Finally, you’re awake. I started to think I gave you to big of a dose.” A voice echos. You move your head in an attempt to identify the scratchy par-asocial voice. When you head the small chuckle the mystery man let out your mind glazed through the horrors that you forgot. You tried to move your arms and legs but quickly found out that they were bound. You mustered up your pride and opened your lips to beg.

“please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I’m begging you-“ you plead, rambling unknowing what the intention of this man was. Your face felt sweaty with fear as you felt the man’s hand graze your body. His hand tracing your collar bone, slowly traveling down your sly, clothed breast and down to your sleek calves. You shivered unintentionally under his touch, his slim cold fingers still feeling present on your skin.

“I’ve waited so long to have you. 2 years darling…~” the man says, lowering his fingers to uncover the blindfold that was attached to your face. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you say clearly of the man’s features. His blue and frizzy hair that looked unkempt, his slim appearance with an ounce of lean muscle, defined enough. “W-why are you doing this?” You cry out, looking for sympathy in the situation. But when you say the way his eyes were shielded by hearts and sinister thoughts you knew there was no sympathy to be given.

“To be honest I’m not so sure myself. I saw you one day and knew you were different from everyone else. You had a spark that ignited something in my dim world. I’d only been in your presence for a second but it felt as if I’d known you my entire life.” He rambled, his tent in his pants growing as you squirm to get away from this all to creepy confession. You swear you saw him drool as he confessed, his face locked on yours.

“I know this isn’t ideal but it’s something that we’ll work on together, and maybe soon you’ll even warm up to your new life, then we can start our family. Oh I can’t wait to stuff you full of my cock and breed your cunt.~”

you shiver on the last part, your eyes growing but as you realize your situation. You looked around for any sign of life. You screamed as loud as you could, tugging and fighting against the hard restraints. Shigaraki rushed to close your mouth, wrapping the blindfold over your mouth.

“Darling I know this is a hard adjustment but trust me when I say screaming is not in your favor. If you wanna make it through our first time together without losing your tongue I strongly suggest keeping that voice down.” He warns, flashing his knife to your face. Your wide eyes trace it, mewling and whimpering as it drew closer to your cheek. you tried to protest as best you could, only gurgling nonsense through the gag in your mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch your precious body while you were awake for so long baby.~ I promise we’ll have lots of fun.” He says as he traces your chest with his lips. You whimper under the weird sensation of skin to skin, as you try to wriggle away. For the moment you completely ignore the fact that this man is responsible for all the weird and unexplained events that happen in your life that you always quickly dismissed. You squirmed harder, yelling muffled curses at him as tears fell down your face. “I wouldn’t be so quick to move.” He warns, bringing his knife with his lips as he moves to your supple breast, kneeding your nipple through the cheap thin fabric. You continue to whimper and fuss under the gag, it getting darker as it collects stray spit.

“it’s so lovely to hear you sing whimpers for me~ I want to take your gag off? Can I do that darling? Can I trust you’ll be a good girl and not scream?” You don’t respond as you continue to mewl under his touch, feeling and watching as he closes in on your pussy. Shigaraki unwraps your gag off your mouth, his face leaning into yours as his fingers glide to your wet panties.

you shake your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment, not wanting to see the man’s face as he smirked. “All for me baby? Your all soaked for me? I’m flattered.” He snickered as he took off your clothes, your bottom half coming off first, your upper half growing goosebumps as he shook it off of you. He slipped your homemade gag off in the process.

“p-please don’t I-I’ve never done anything like this before…” you whisper, your face feeling heated as you admit it. If Shigaraki could he would cum right now, the only stopping him is that he was saving it for you. So much of his cum wasted on his hand when it could be inside your body, a piece of him with you no matter where you are. Not that you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

“don’t worry we’ll go nice and slow~ at least I’ll try.” He added, whisking his fingers over your unprotected pussy, your slick coating his finger as he pushes it past your barrier. You arch your back instinctively, his long fingers reaching places you wouldn’t have thought they could go.

“I knew you’d like my fingers darling, I’ve seen the way you masterbated. Never being truly fulfilled by rubbing your poor clit. You need someone to satisfy you.” He ranted. Your pussy only grew more wet as he explained while thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “p-please… I-I don’t want it!” You begged, huffing as you pleaded, your body betraying you as a wet spot grew on the bed.

Shigaraki laughed, adding another finger in while thrusting his thumb onto your clit. You screeched, moaning for him to stop. “You know you can’t deny me! It’s what your body wants. You might be spewing no but your body tells me what you really want. What you need.” He monologues, giving your pussy a strong slap. You both listen to how your cunt squirts a small amount. You feel your stomach coiling as his hands speed up, your cunt squeezing around as he hits plush parts of your organs.

“I-I can’t hold it any longer! I-I’m gonna-“ you groan, closing your eyes tightly as you squeeze against his hand feeling yourself lose control. “yes baby, that’s it, cum on my fingers like the happy slut you are.” He says, placing his face close to your cunt to get front row seats to your cum. You rut your hips into his fingers as they ram their way in and out of you. As you arch your back you release, squirting hard over his fingers and face. You stick your tongue out as your mind goes blank. You’d never felt that way in your life, you saw mini sparks flying through your vision as your clit throbbed. Shigaraki happily slurped any parts of you he could catch, cunt hungry as he went into your pussy to suck and prod at your pussy for more of your sacred juices. You moaned, trying to shield them with your hand over your mouth, your cunt hitting his mouth heavily. “It seems like your sweet pussy wants this.” He chuckled under his breath, lapping up the last of your juices. You flinch as he gives your lips a hard smack, your slick bouncing off of your needy cunt as it clenches around nothing. “P-please just let me go… I-I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me-“ He quickly hushes you by pressing his lips on yours.

“Darling why would you wanna leave now? The fun’s just starting. This is just the beginning of our new life together!~” He rambled, kissing back down your body as he stroked his cock above your pussy, his pre cum dripping down your stomach. You observed his dick, watching as it twitched while you made consistent eye contact. Your eyes grew wide as he leaned his tip into your slit, lining it against you. You felt the small yet tense pressure as he gently pressed it against you. “N-no way! I-it’s not gonna fit!” You shrieked, wriggling around. Shigaraki pressed his hand down on your thigh, gripping you in place. “It’s bigger than it looks. I’ll make it fit baby, don’t worry you just lay down and keep crying tears for me~” he teases, stroking your face with his available hand. You shook your head, groaning at the tight intrusion as Shigaraki starts plowing through your cunt.

You arched your back, feeling your body set on fire as he kept going. Your eyes could shed tears fast enough as shigaraki finally bottomed out, finally inside you. You panted hard as Shigaraki paused for a quick intermission, taking the time and to kiss up and down your face, peppering you in praise. “You’re doing so damn good, taking my cock like a good girl. I told you it would fit baby, don’t you see my cock bulging your stomach, twitching just for you? Isn’t it beautiful?” He questions, staring at you smiling as brightly as possible while you closed your eyes and begged for this all to be some really fucked lucid dream. The searing pain went slightly down, your wincing slowly turning into neediness. Shigaraki took note on your reaction and took it as a sign to continue. “Is my cock hungry whore desperate for more? I guess all that begging was for foreplay.” He adds, coming close to your ear, rutting gently in and out of you, your stomach squeezing at every vein that hits past your walls. Shigaraki bends down to your face, kissing you passionately, also taking the advantage to thrust. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he locks his lips with yours. “Does it feel good honey? Do you like your lovers fat cock ramming inside you?” He playfully teases, pulling all the way out before slamming back in with a speedy pace. You cry out, for what you can’t be sure anymore. At first it was about being let go but now your mind was blank and the only thing stopping you from passing out from the rough pace was shigaraki’s soft yet menacing voice, scratching at your ears in the right place. You nod hesitantly, tears blinding you from clearly seeing his face. He grunts, his cock twitching as if he’s about to explode. “I said…” he winded up, pulling out of you and rubbing his tip on your clit, his twitching rose colored tip glazing your bruised hole. “Do you like my cock ramming inside you?” You wriggle to purposely pop his cock where it belongs, only to look desperate. You whine, feeling your close climax winding down, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Say it baby so I can stuff your pretty cunt~” “Say it so you can cum with me…” He glares, waiting for your words to fall from your lips, his red eyes blazing down on you. “Y-yes! Yes I love your big fat cock ramming into my little cunt!” You give in, swallowing your shame for sweet release that awaited you. Shigaraki made no attempts to hide how pleased he was with your lewd confession, slowly yet happily sliding his cock deep in your cunt, easily gliding to your cervix. You arch your back, the tense shock of intimacy driving you mad. Shigaraki loses control, feeling your neediness for him drove him over the edge as he grips your thighs, taking a bite of them as he pounds you crazily. Your tits bounce around so hard you get fearful they might come off. Shigaraki kisses praises into your collarbone, biting and licking it, leaving his mark as he feels himself drawing close. “g-gonna cum…g-gonna cum again!” You scream, clenching onto his shoulders, looking down at your pussy getting demolished by the fuck machine above you. “Shigaraki! D-don’t stop! God so good!” You say, your nerves sensitive as Shigaraki grunts, his eyes filled with desire as he dives for your perked breast, biting the hyper sensitive nipple.

“gonna cum to baby, cum on my cock. Go on, cum for your man!” He shouts, feeling himself drive over the edge. You cum, closing your eyes as they spark. He follows close behind, slamming on last time as deep as he can inside you, unloading his cum. You touch your stomach, tired and fucked out, you feel the warmth that burrows inside you as shigaraki slowly pulls out, his cock still twitching. He lays beside you, wrapping his arm around your naked body, his other hand holding your waist tight. “So fucking good, you’re such a good girl…” he whispers, kissing your hair, falling asleep.

As you come down from your high, your heart goes back to sinking, your pussy inflated with cum that’s still dripping out, and your mind a jumbled mess. You stare into the darkness, deciding that you’d wait a couple of minutes, hell, hours for him to fall asleep before you try and get up and move.

The clock shined bright, 6:00 A.M, the only thing in the room with light. You slowly got up, plucking his hand from your body carefully. Shigaraki rustles, grunting as he tightens for a second. His face growing into a scowl before he transitions back into a peaceful rest. You sigh a short lived breath of relief, not wanting to think about the consequences if he found you doing this. You got up, walking. You didn’t know where you were walking to. You didn’t even know if you were in an apartment anymore, you did know you needed to keep moving. So that’s what you did. “If I can just find anything…” you whispered to yourself, a sad attempt to soothe your fears. You felt like you were walking on pins, taking any wrong step could result in him waking-

“going somewhere?” Shigaraki said blank. His voice was flat and surprising. You jumped and didn’t dare look behind you, knowing whatever face he was making, he wasn’t gonna be any happier to see yours like this. He doesn’t wait for your reply, instead gripping your hair rough and clicking his tongue, disappointed. “Y/n I’m not new to this. I’ve stalked you for a long time now, you don’t think I wouldn’t notice that you weren’t sleeping? I’m almost hurt more by the fact you’d try that on me more than I am about your little “attempt” to leave me.” You kick and scream, shouting every curse in the book but he doesn’t respond, only gripping your hair tighter and dragging you down the hall. “I was just getting a drink! I-I wasn’t leaving! I-I needed to pee really bad I-“ He cuts you off, throwing you in a room. It’s almost as dark as the one you were just in, the only light that sourced you was the natural light of the sun that beamed through a very small window. “When you’re ready to behave and come out with a changed attitude we’ll try again. Until then, I’d recommend getting better at tricking me, don’t worry you’ve got a few days to practice.” He says, closing and locking the door quickly before his quiet footsteps leave you alone.

{—————————} Taglist:

@kai-213

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benkeibear · 1 year

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☰ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⧫ Characters: Ran, Kazutora, Nahoya

⧫ Reader: female

⧫ Summary: They were scared of this day - losing you due to their way of living

⧫ WARNINGS: major character death, mentions of violence and blood

⧫ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! (This is a repost from my old blog)

☰ Ran:

Ran wasn’t with you when it happened but He knew something was wrong when Rindou carried you like the most fragile doll across the parking lot, tears running over his cheeks as his jacket was stained with blood. Ran didn't waste any time to rush to his little brother, taking the love of his life out of his arms “what happened? Did you call an ambulance?” He asked concerned, the panic in his voice clear. Rindou nodded, frozen from the shock “K-kisaki… He got her with a bat” He mumbled through the tears and Ran knew that this was bad news, praying that the ambulance will be here in time as you kept slipping in and out of consciousness. “You will be okay Princess… We will marry next week just like we have planned… We will grow old together, I promise” He whispered to calm his own nerves and you gave him a weak smile “I love you Ran… Promise you will never forget me” you whispered, voice weak. He only shook his head, having to stay strong for you, lying to himself that you will be okay "I can't lose you princess, you need to stay with me, keep those beautiful eyes open" He begged, knowing it's too late. You couldn't stay awake any longer, feeling the darkness pulling you away from your lover. The second you went limp in his arms He let out a heartbreaking scream which made everyone around stop in their tracks. Ran Haitani has lost the love of his life and He will not rest until everyone responsible for this has suffered enough before He will personally end their lives.

☰ Kazutora:

Kazutora always knew it was a mistake to let you in his life, you were too good, too pure, too innocent to be with someone like him, having spent half of his life in prison. But you still stayed and loved him, having him swear on his life that He will always protect you and keep you safe. But here you were now, crawling towards the man you loved once you woke up again, head spinning but you wanted to be with him when you left. Your whole body was aching but you needed him, you needed to see him one last time. Kazutora tried to stop them but got hit as well, by far not as bad as you had been. You shook him gently and cuddled up to him, craving the warmth his body gave you on the cold concrete. He groaned out of pain when He came by, seeing the puddle of blood around you and quickly jumped into action, picking you up and trying to get help but you kept slipping away, making him panic even more. The times you were conscious you smiled up at him, trying to reassure him that it will be okay, that you're not in pain anymore and it broke him, knowing that He will lose you. “Please don't leave me Tiger, I can't do this without you…I need you… I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you…i love you” He sobbed but it was too late, your skin was ice cold and your eyes empty, staring right past him into the sky where the sun was setting as He saw life leave your features. He still carried you to the hospital, begging for help but no doctor was able to help you, it was too late as He sat beside your lifeless body, slumped over your lap "please Tiger...you have to come back... Don't leave me like this" He sobbed but it was in vain. Kazutora lost the only good thing in his life, the only thing He truly cared about.

☰ Nahoya:

Nahoya cares about exactly 2 things in his life, his brother and his lovely partner. He knew that if it would ever be required, He would step in harms way to keep you safe, but what, if He wasn't even there to protect you? The moment you called him, voice weak as you sobbed for your boyfriend, He knew it was serious, rushing to your location without anything but you on his mind. When He finally got to you, He found you slumped over in the middle of the road, a path of blood trailing to where you were laying and He knew that this was not going to end well. He sat down next to you and pulled you on his lap to keep you warm, your hands gently holding onto his now blood stained shirt “Hoya… I’m scared” you croaked out, unable to cry anymore from how exhausted you were and He nodded, trying to stay strong for you, a soft smile still on his lips “you know I love you, right? Know that you’re the most important person in my life... Just stay with me, alright?” He said serious, tears in his eyes as you didn’t answer “right y/n? RIGHT?” His voice got louder, desperate to hear your voice, to know you’re alive but the way your body went slack was all the answer He needed. Nahoya has lost his lover, one of the two things in his life He ever cared about. His smile hasn’t returned to his face ever since.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x female reader #tokyo revengers angst #ran x reader #kazutora x reader #nahoya x reader #ran angst #kazutora angst #nahoya angst #ran x female reader #kazutora x female reader #nahoya x female reader #ran haitani angst #ran haitani #kazutora hanemiya #nahoya kawata #tokyo revengers ran #tokyo revengers nahoya #tokyo revengers kazutora

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kichikichiko · 11 months

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Luckiest man

First time writing for Honkai star rail! Enjoy everyone

Here I am also, trying a new format of writing 🫶🏻

Synopsis: things you do that make these hrs men feel like the luckiest man in the universe

Pairing: Dan heng x gn!reader , Sampo x gn!reader, Gepard x gn! Reader

Cw: fluff, headcanon, not proofread

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DAN HENG

Dan Heng always feels like the luckiest man when hes with you, but something about waking up with you beside him either still sleeping soundly or awake gazing at him hits different.

The intimate moment you both share when sleeping together is something he wouldnt trade for the world

Its one of tbe only times you both get peace and quiet around.

If you still end up sleeping, he'll observe your features. The quite snore you make, the way your brows furrow from time to time, like your dream was extreamly serious

If you wake up before him though, he gets a bit flustered when he finally wakes up. Seeing your eyes look at him longingly as you broke the silence between the 2 of you "morning dear". It gets him everytime

he truly is the luckiest man in the universe.

SAMPO

Sampo is a comic relief. Hes an idiot and a pain in the ass

All of which you have grown accustom to over time

Lots of people dont get how you can put up with his pathetic ass but here you are.

Sampo is well aware on how lucky he is to have such a patient partner like you and wouldnt dare take advantage of your kindness towards him.

He tries to make it up to you, be it giving gifts, acts of service or intimate moments between the 2 of you

You appreciate it all, but Sampo felt like he didnt hit the spot yet, one of which would make you truly appreciate what hes got to offer

After all youve given much more to him than you know,

You gave him many opportunities. You have him patience, kindness, love...

He feels like he needs up step up his game.

He finally found out what truly gets you to appreciate Sampo Koski

Its the jokes he makes, its when he embarrasses himself infront of you when he tried to look cool, its when he gets clumsy.

You laugh, and its a genuine laugh.

Whether or not your laugh was suppose to be a laugh of pity or not it was still genuine in the man's eyes

And thats what matters.

Because anytime he gets you to laugh, you'd help him back to his feet and give him a sweet kiss on his lips.

He starts making a fool out himself more often, of course not too often...

That would be concerning, but he does so when he knows you need it the most.

When you laugh, you make him feel appreciated

he starts chanting prayers to the Aeons above, thanking them for making him the way he is, and for bringing you to him.

GEPARD

Gepard is a general, a Landau. His family was known to be warriors of Belobog. Serving until the end

As he made his way to the top, he got busier and busier. Coming home late, or even coming home the next morning.

When you both decided to make it official between the 2 of you, he told you about the late nights he may come home, and you stayed by his side anyways.

Accepting that, although it can get lonely sometimes, you are willing to wait for him to come home, and finally get the rest you both deserve together.

The general came home one night, to see a dim light coming from the living room.

It was you reading a book on the sofa, and he knew you were waiting for him again.

He felt guilty, for making you stay up and lose sleep, just to wait for him.

Gepard insisted that you shouldnt wait for him to come home next time, as he might come home later or even the next day. But you told him the same words he heard the first time he told you about the late nights

"Im aware and I dont care. I'll keep on waiting for you to come home. Whether it be 10 minutes or late into the night. I want to be able to welcome you home, and I want you to be able to sleep well, knowing that Im here right beside you."

Your patience and determination was what got him and

He knew he was head over heels for you now. My my what a lucky general this Landau became

──────•❥❥❥•──────

REQUESTS OPEN TEMPORARILY

Masterlist here!

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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Gathering side story: Tasigur the Golden Fang

“Sho wake up,” Chaewon said as she shook me awake. I sat back up with expedited force

I wipe the sleep out of my eyes “What's up Chae?” I say as I recover. Chaewon chuckles before answering

“The Nightfall Ritual is starting,” Chaewon said excitedly. I nodded and watched the fireworks start(not literal fireworks) the first part of the ritual was boring a lot of talking about generations of werewolves and otherkin working together to protect the pack, yadda, yadda, yadda.

“To that end and to stay in line with our roots we have our new brood fight for their mates,” Voruna said. I perked up at hearing fighting. Silently Voruna admonished me with just a look, and it took the wind out of my sails. Chaewon noticed this and grasped my hand tightly.

“First can we have the omegas declare the desired partners.” I watch as Chae gets up when I'm mentioned. The other standout is a guy who is exceptionally dressed in white and gold, but I notice he's standing funny. It takes me a quick gaze at his stance to notice he's favoring his right leg. I look around as if everyone just accepts this as is.

“Hey, Chae I'm going to be right back.”

I get up and walk to the young man who looks at me terrified. In the background, I hear people asking if I'm challenging his claim I turn to Duskana

“What no I'm trying to see what's up with his leg now if you'll excuse me,” I say. The packs watch me vehemently until I find the culprit there. His leg has a broken bone that didn't heal properly.

The young man looks at me terrified

“What's your name boss?” I ask sternly.

“Preston why?” he asks as he stands on guard

I ignore his attempt at bravery, I'm not here to step on his claim, “No reason hey is your right leg bothering you?”

Preston eyes me worried before I gesture for him to sit. Thankfully he does “Yeah ever since I was a kid why?”

“I'm going to fix it,” I reply

“Wait how?” Preston inquires

“Best not to think about it” I answered as I put his leg up.

“What hobbies do you have?” I say as I search for the incongruity.

“Um, I play Magic the Gathering,” Preston answers confused at the situation

“Oh word me too. What's your favorite colors?” I ask having found the break and getting ready to fix it.

“Orzhaaaaah,” he says as I snap his bone before setting it. He looks at me with intense hate until he begins to move his leg and notices the pain he feels is gone. He stands up and pirouettes of all things. He looks at me confused.

“We will finish this talk later. Your uneven gate was annoying me and I needed it fixed.” I turn to the rest of the pack who look at me in complete confusion and disbelief. I walk back to my seat with Chae who's trying hard not to laugh. As is Voruna. Duskana is less than pleased. she decides to finish up the omega before giving us a 45-minute break. I decided to go back to sleep. Well, Chaewom forces it by laying me down on her lap and caressing my head. I look up at her and she gives me the cutest smile. Her blonde hair only amplified her cute features. As I began to fall asleep I felt Chaewon lightly tap my shoulder. I yawn and get up from our seats to see Sakura, Yunjin, Connor, Dexter, Eunbi, Siyeon, Gahyeon, Preston, Karina, and Daewon approach. Chaewon and I waved to them as they sat around us. Preston was the first to speak.

“Um, you are…not what I expected you to be based on the rumors.”

“What did you expect?” I ask intrigued

“Less feral manchild, and more untamed monster,” Preston answered. I should have expected that. I looked at Preston perplexed but chose to ignore it, then I considered his words at face value and decided a teaching moment was in order.

“What exactly do you mean by “feral-Manchild,” I ask because it's said so often feels like that word has no meaning,” I ask pointedly. The room goes silent enough that you could theoretically hear a pin drop

“Um it's just that you disrupt the ritual for childish reasons, an annoyance over my gait?” Preston questioned

“Would you rather me fuck up your leg again. Because I can do that? Or is this more about the principle and respect of hierarchies in place?”

Preston looked at me shocked before saying, “The latter.”

“Okay let me break it down for you. I don't respect the hierarchy present or the leaders (except Voruna) for very legitimate reasons. I won't bore you with the full story but I will say this if it were not for Voruna andbChaewon I wouldn't be here. The nightfall ritual is antiquated, barbaric, and not reflective of the community it serves. Especially since several members are practicing nonviolence religiously. So for me someone who “lives and breathes violence” this is an insulting waste of my time. However, because I love Chaewon I'm here going through it.” everyone except Chaewon looked at me with befuddled intrigue.

Chaewon looked at me with lustful pride, but she has gone on the record saying “I love when you show your intelligence.”

“Oh right, I'm just supposed to be a big dumb oaf sorry,” I added to the conversation

Preston’s confused intrigue swept away before saying,” But shouldn't you integrate with the pack better if you worked with them and within their constraints.”

“I would but I lack the finesse and sympathetic story to make that stratagem work. Especially when they find out who I am and what the Machinist did to me.” I stated calmly. Preston looked at me confused before I heard Chae’s stomach growl. She gave me a shy look and I responded to it by saying “Oh this is an excellent time to go on our first date.” Chaewon smiles as she gets up

“Let's do it.” she says fearlessly I give her the thumbs up then I turn to everyone else and say “Well be back in like 15 minutes or so.” before creating a small warp gate and walking with Chae.

I walked inside of my parent's house who looked at me surprised as I took off my eye patch.

“You can see out of that eye?” Chaewon said incredulously.

“Yeah, the only reason I cover it is because well look.” I show Chae my “evil eye.”

“Oh yeah, you can't go parading that around. Do your parents know about it?” Chaewon affirmed

I shook my head vehemently as I answered“No they don't know about my extracurriculars or me being…well you know.”

Chae looked at me terrified before saying “Wait why not?”

I squinted before explaining “Mostly because they are an extremely anti-magic household.”

Chaewon's eyes widened with understanding as she said “I see I'll be on my best behavior then.”

I smile and then say, “Thanks, Chae.”

I open the door and our big dog approaches Chaewon curiously. Chaewon smiles as my dad's dog sniffs her then gives Chaewon her signature smile. Chaewon instantly falls for her like everyone does.

“Oh so cute,” she says to the dog as she goes to pet her. The dog in question loves the attention after a few minutes my mom walks over

“Oh Pj you're back I thought you were spending the night with Connor and Dexter?” she says

“I am just in the area. Hey mom is there any Gumbo left?”

“Yeah in the fridge (my mom notices Chaewon) oh who is this young lady?” my mom asks surprised. My dad also walks in at this time.

“Mom, Dad this is Chaewon she's my girlfriend.” my parents look at me processing the information before

“Nice to meet you,” Chaewon says politely. My parents give polite smiles that I know are hiding concern.

“Chaewon and I were hungry so I figured why not come back for a bit. Persephone and August aren’t here right.” My parents nodded and I led Chaewon to the kitchen.

“Your house is so nice.” She said as she followed me. My mom smiled before saying thank you. Chaewon sat down on a stool as my dad’s dog (named Noelle) came up to her while I got bowls ready.

“So Chaewon how did you meet PJ?” My mom asked as I put the soup in the microwave.

“Oh, we met at a pizza place. In…” Chaewon looked to me for help

“In Buena Park” I responded

“Yeah, Buena Park.” She said with her cute accent. “Hey came up to me and started chatting with me and my friends who were there.”

Things began to click for my dad.

“She’s the one you have the picture with on your home screen.” My dad exclaimed.

Chaewon looked at me after hearing my dad’s statement. “Jinja?” She says laughing

“What was that?” My mom asked

“Oh, Chae just said “Really?” I answered

My mom nodded and then asked Chae where she was from because her accent seemed “foreign”

“Oh, I’m from Korea,” Chae explained. My parents gave me an oh face and then left us alone for the time being as we ate.

“Mmm delicious,” Chaewon said after her first spoonful. “What is this?”

"Gumbo. You like it?"

"I love it!" Chae answers happily. I smile at her enthusiasm. after we finish eating my watch goes off telling me it's time to go back to the ritual. I groan. While Chae smiles

"Come on it won't be that boring." I shrug, and her response is to scowl cutely. When we leave I get a text from my parents saying "We need to talk later about this Chae situation." I reply "Sure" and we head back into the building. we cross the threshold through the door to the alphas and Chae points to my chest. I go light-headed and look a my chest as a sword with green light impaled me. As it recedes I hear Duskana and Voruna arguing. I fall backwards as Brok an omega from earlier walks in front of me.

"Huh, that was easy." He chuckled

I lay in a pool of blood I look over to Preston who is holding Chaewon back as her eyes go crimson and she shifts. I sigh and I summon all my strength to get up.

Using the last remnants of my werewolf and tech powers I grab Chaewon and warp the two of us to safety. I set her down and let her rest. I try to as well but every time I close my eyes flashes of them attacking me go through my head, and at one point those images switch from me to Chaewon and that's when all hope of civility and peace negotiation goes out of the window. I run my finger over my ring of the apexes as I sit with Chaewon. Her exertion caused her to pass out. Her tiny body wasn't used to the new powers yet probably.

The air begins to heat, and the room begins to humid, and announces his arrival.

“You're cured,” the voice says

I raise my face and turn to my old mentor “What do you want Archipelago?”

Archipelago smiles then says “Well my apprentice I came to finally finish what we started, but it seems I've come at a bad time..”

I nod and reply “A little bit.”

Archipelago raises an eyebrow before asking “What happened?”

I shrug and reply “An omega and hisPimarch attacked me with a moonlight great sword.”

Archipelago looked at me confused “Wasn't that supposed to be legend though? According to Voruna?”

I nod as I answer “Yes, it was.”

Archipelago grimaces “That would explain the stab wound. What did you do to make them that mad?”

I shrugged as I was always annoying but not threatening “Had too much power.” I figured

Archipelago nodded in understanding “Oh yeah, that. I told you people love strength until it's out of reach, especially when it costs what you paid. Speaking of why have you been so willing to sacrifice for power? I mean you haven't needed it in a long time being on par with pretty much everyone except that one guy with the Mordeo powers?”

I turned to him curious “Wait who is that?”

He shrugged before answering “Some guy named Theodore Sobek…something. He's American and Egyptian, but that's not important why the obsession with power…minus the discipline practices?” I wonder if it's the same Theodore that Sakura mentioned earlier

“Because at any point I need to be ready for someone to take their shot, and I need to be strong enough to protect those I care about,” I answered dejected

“So fear of losing?” Archipelago concluded

I acquiesced “In a reductive way yeah.”

Archipelago put his hand on my shoulder “But that's not you though. You are the bare-knuckle brawler who gets hit and strikes back 11 times harder. Your power is retaliation, and I think all of that nanites and magical druids stuff got to your head and made you lose sight of that. You are no grand protector or hero that's loser shit. What matters is power and using that power to create the world you want. There is no good or evil. That's all cowardly shit they use to manipulate and control the masses and you are not one of them..”

I laughed at Archipelago’s conjectures but ultimately he was right no one remembers the loser or the good guy unless they win.

“Don't let these people make you a mediocrity. You are too brilliant for that.” Archipelago asserted “I mean you walked off an attack from a legendary weapon. Fuck what they think of you. Get back up dust yourself off, clean the blood off you, and spill theirs.”

“That's super evil but ultimately I agree. Good evil. It's all pointless. Had I kicked Duskana’s face in when I had the chance I'd not be in this situation but then I'd probably have had other issues…ugh well no time like the present.” I got up showered then changed my shirt. When I was walking back out Archipelago smiled

“Looking sharp,” he said I smiled.

“Yo, you got any silver weapons?” I asked.

“No, but I do have your old gear,” Archipelago said as he handed me my old "trick weapons". I laughed as I grabbed them. As I did Chae began to stir.

"Oh looks like your girlfriend is waking up, which means it's my turn to leave. Well, you know the drill. Knock 'em dead." Archipelago says before disappearing. I groan before Chaewon gets up.

"OH Sho you're safe," she says

"Um not exactly," I say while showing her the scar. Chae looks worried and unconvinced. "Look we are going to go back and I am going to deal with this directly and then after we can cuddle," I reassure her. She doesn't buy it but follows me regardless.

We get back to the ritual sight. Before we enter I turn to Chae and say "Um you are going to see some pretty horrifying things please don't hate me for them. I like you and what I saw earlier today made me realize that I don't want to lose you, or die without you. .where several people are surprised to see me. before any of them can react I take out one of my many weapons. and shoot Duskana in the face. several pieces of her flesh fly off. She screams as she roars. I summon two knives and pin her feet to the ground. she tries to shift but before she can I am in her face with my hammer and I turn her face into a red paste.

After making sure she was dead this time I laughed. I turned the rest of the pack.

"Any more questions?" I ask maliciously. to several faces that shake no.

Brock stepped forward and before he could say anything or make any type of move. I take out my revolver and shoot him in his chest. He falls as his blood pools at his feet.

I look at him with detached coldness, “So that's how it looks to bleed out. Weird.” Brock looked up at me gurgling blood and spat at my face

“Coward,” he said flatly.

“No cowardly is stabbing someone in the back because their mom told them to, at least this way you die faster. I could have brought out the sword and slowly cut you to pieces.”

“What kind of sick freak are you?” Brock spat again.

I sighed as I got up not wanting to be bled on anymore, and I shrug at him. I turn to the rest of the people there and walk back to Chaewon. The pack is silent until Voruna speaks.

“That was quite reckless Percival.” she chided

“Hey I got stabbed,” I replied

“Yet you still live.”

“Because I have too much I need to get done.”

“So you shrugged off an attack from a weapon that ends immortals.”

“Well if memory serves correct it just resets the person to “their normal status.”

“If you're worried about me killing more people (I point to her friends, both dead and alive) I will do my best to avoid it.”

Voruna scowled at me.

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