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racinggirl · 10 days

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you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

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tac-the-unseen · 19 days

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Lost Boys x Injured Reader

CW: Gang violence, guns, blood, description of unlicensed surgery, minor gore

You and David were by a small brick wall with all of the boys parked bikes. While Marko, Paul, and Dwayne ran around and had fun with each other, you and David stayed behind. David stayed because he was scouting victims, and you stayed behind because you were incredibly tired. You had to work earlier than normal which threw off your whole sleep schedule, and the headache you were sporting wasn't helping either.

Dwayne had already told you how unnecessary it is for you to work. Not only do the guys have a huge amount of money and other values stashed away, you’ll only end up burning yourself out. You however were firm with working, it gave you something to do. While sitting back to never work again sounds like an absolute dream, the sinking pit in your stomach told you otherwise. You felt too lazy. Mix that with anxiety and you swiftly found yourself a job at the local mall.

You laid on top of Dwayne’s bike, the (arguably) most comfortable bike, while humming to keep your mind busy. You cross your arms over the handlebars and use it to cushion your head. Your legs are just short enough to miss the ground, so you swing them back and forth. Your eyes slowly start to close as your mind slips away into a light nap, but that's when your body jolts itself upright. Your body reacts before your brain fully understands what was happening.

Gunshots, several of them.

The fast pops whip through the air, then are quickly followed by more. It's not rare that Santa Carla has a few idiots with guns, but what is rare is a full on shoot out. You see several people running away from the middle of the boardwalk. You watch as they push past each other and you even catch sight of the poors souls that get knocked to the floor. You know those people will be trampled to death by the terrified crowd, but you can't help but briefly think about how horrible that cause of death is. Head trauma, crushed ribs, pierced lungs, snapped neck, all happening to you in a matter of seconds. It's truly a brutal way to go.

David grabs you by the arm and pulls you off Dwayne’s bike and into his chest. David turns himself around to cover you and put you onto his own bike. That's when a sharp, burning pain hits your shoulder. By the time you know what's wrong David has already started his motorcycle and is speeding off. You hissed in pain as the warm California air hits your red, hot, open wound. While David drives you slide off your jacket and press it into the hole in your shoulder. You lean into David's shoulder and bite down onto his leather coat. The stinging pain mixed with the bounce of the trail makes you nauseous, but before you know it, your home.

David wastes no time parking his bike and grabbing you, pulling you into the cave. He runs past the common room, kicking shit out of the way, and sets you into the nest. David is fast, his movements show panic, But oddly enough not his face. He's stone cold, you'd be almost offended if you didn't see the way his pupils are blown wide open. He is panicking, he's just not showing it.

In his haste he grabs some old clothes of his from what you can assume was the 1800’s. Lucky that old thing is clean, you know because you're the one that washed it. He presses the white cotton button up into your shoulders, your body reacts by trying to pull away, but David doesn't let you get far. “Hold still love.” He pleads gently.

You hiss at the touch, Your shoulder burns and stings with a dull throbbing pain. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears while David does his best to stop the bleeding. You're lurched back into reality as someone pulled you into their chest by the waist. You look back to find Paul pulling you in and hastily kissing the back of your head. You look around to see Marko and Dwayne finding more cloth to stuff the wound.

By the four shirt the bleeding slows and your vision is swirling. Dwayne holds your hand and presses kisses into your knuckles while Marko and David are setting up supplies to dig out the bullet and sew you shut. You see them using a lighter to disinfect a pair of tweezers and two needles. Your tears blur you vision so much there's no point in keeping them open.

“I know baby, I know.” Dwayne tries to reassure you, but they all know that's not going to work. You hear footsteps and open your eyes to look up. David is crouching down with the sterile tweezers and you catch the look in his eyes. He's clearly anticipating your reaction, they all know it's not going to be fun.

Paul grabs your other hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, Dwayne is quick to do the same. Another wave of panic shoots through you, while this is an act of love, they're also holding you down.

“Ready?” David says in the most delicate voice you've ever heard from him. You sob out and brace yourself, David knows you're never going to be ready, but has to do this either way.

When he begins digging you're met with what is now the worst pain you've ever been in. Being shit was one thing, this was 10 times more intense. You feel every jab and poke, the pain is nearly indescribable. You seriously would have rather been stabbed.

While you violently sob and scream, Paul and Dwayne hold you down tightly. You legs twist and almost kick David, but Marko was quick to swoop in and pin them down too. With all this chaos David is apologizing with every movement he makes. He shushes you while digging into your bleeding wound until he hits metal.

He slowly drags up the bullet. When the Damned thing is dislodged from your shoulder David quickly packs the wound again. “I'm sorry love, you did such a good job.” He praises while getting up.

They wait until your crying slows and you're no longer trying to kick the air...or Marko. Marko lets go of your legs slowly and stands you. He hurries over to the cabinet and grabs an already threaded needle. “It's not over yet, love.” Paul whispers in an apologetic way. Marko sprays the wound with a disinfectant before he begins his work. David is now the one hugging your legs as Marko gets in close to sew you together. “1…2…3!” Marko says before the needle pierces the lower part of the wound.

Your voice is hoarse from David's previous excursion, but you still manage to hiss and cry. Marko’s work is quick but not sloppy. He too is spewing apologies like a prayer. By the time he's done you've lost all your fight and lay limp and sobbing against Paul's chest.

Marko sprays some disinfectant on your wound and patches you up with cotton pads and a cloth wrapping. As soon as he's down you're pulled into a laying down position by Paul and all four boys start cooing at you.

You're surrounded by purrs and buzzing, praises and kisses, all around you. But that all combines into mindless ringing as you stare up at the ceiling. You still feel the stinging, pinching, and throbbing burn. The thumping of your heart hasn't stopped either, you're still in pain.

Finally your body gives in and your vision fades.

The first sight you're met with is the ceiling. As you blink away the sleep you catch a glimpse of fluffy blonde hair. You turn your head to see Marko asleep and more of Paul's hair. As you come too you realize you're still on Paul's chest. You look to your other side and see both Dwayne and David also asleep.

You gather that it's probably morning and that you probably missed your early work shift. While that thought flies through your head the second one to follow is ‘I’m fucking quitting.’

You slowly wiggle yourself out of your mates arms and the nest, and quietly leave the room. You're still in pain, and the wiggling around you just did wasn't helping, but it was manageable. What really bugs you right now is how thirsty you are. Your body is screaming for water like never before. You guess it made some sense, you did lose quite a lot of blood.

You shuffle over to the living area, in the corner are stacks of water bottles. You remember when you first began staying in the cave how you complained that the cave didn't have any running water. You half jokingly said you'd start bring jugs of water when you stayed over. The next day when you complained of thirst Marko busted open a large crate and pulled out a plastic water bottle with absolute glee. Bastards had waited for you to complain all day so they could show off the water they stole for you.

While making your way to the water supply you hear a similar shuffling behind you. “What are you doing up this early?” you hear Paul's groggy voice behind you. You lean over a grab a bottle, you don't even attempt to talk, you know your voice is gone by the way your throat is still raw. You just hum at him and chug your first bottle.

By the time you reach for your next his arms are around you and gently rocking side to side. You untwist the cap and chug your second bottle. “You're gonna need vitamins and shit.” he grumbles into your good shoulder.

“They’re gonna need more than that.” Another voice murmurs from the dark. You don't have to turn your head to identify David’s voice. “We'll get you plenty tonight, but for now we all need sleep.” He promises in a sleepy tone. You finish your second bottle but your thirst is still unmatched

With Paul holding onto your middle you make grabbie hands at the water stash. David grunts in response but get you your third water. “Finish that and we'll go to bed.” Paul says and kisses the side of your neck.

When you're done you're hauled off to the nest and tucked into place. Dwayne and Marko are just slightly awake and mumbles out incomprehensible words. You're put in-between them with Paul and David quickly to snuggle into your lower half.

Its uncharacteristically gentle of the, but you definitely don't hate it. Even more kisses are pressed into your hips and forehead, as they all settle back into sleep. You too fall under sleeps spell while you plan out what food you're gonna eat when night falls.

The last thing you hear are soft purrs.

Thanks for reading <3

I know it's not the greatest but I have like 5 finals to do. I'm in my last couple of days before I graduate.

#slashers #reader #x reader #the lost boys #fanfic #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #tlb 1987 #david tlb #dwayne tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb

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hykwrld · 1 year

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𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 + 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀

pairing: nct dream (mark + 00 line) x gn!reader (afab anatomy)

contains: consensual!!! somno, slight dirty talk? it’s like one sentence (jeno), dom/sub dynamics, subby renjun <3

a/n: it’s my birthday!!! so please take this as a small gift from me to you 🫶🏼 i don’t rly like this but i hope u guys enjoy and i’m so so so sorry that it took me like 2 months to write this :’) i promise that i’m working on the other requests and the markhyuck 3some and i hope to be able to write/post more consistently <3 ily guys mwah mwah

MARK LEE

mark’s a little hesitant about it at first when you bring it up. you’ve told him over and over again that you’re okay with it, that you trust him to know your limits, but he’s worried that he’ll accidentally lose control and go too far, especially since you won’t be conscious to stop him. you don’t push him, of course, wanting him to be just as comfortable as you are when trying something new. you add, though, that unless you explicitly say otherwise, he always has your permission to test it out. about a week after you initially discuss it, mark comes back to the apartment to find you fast asleep in bed. he gently peels back the blanket to get in beside you, seeing that your top has ridden up a little to reveal your abdomen, soft, slow breaths passing your lips as you occasionally murmur something incomprehensible.

he chews on his lip, taking in your sleeping form. you look so peaceful and innocent like this, lips parted a little and he feels his mind begin to wander. he thinks about pushing your top up a little further, the thin material of your shirt out of the way to show off your tits, your nipples perked up because of the sudden exposure; if you’d even wake up when he started playing with your pussy, how quickly he could get you to soak through your panties. before he can stop himself, his thoughts become a reality and his hand is shoving your top up, groping your chest while the other slips under the waistband of the shorts you had on, starting to rub through your folds. a little whimper passes your lips, thighs closing around his hand, making mark’s cock swell embarrassingly quickly. as he continues his ministrations, your moans only grow, a damp spot forming on your panties. your breathing grows heavy, cheeks warm and mark decides that he might just prefer this over your initial look. he feels perverted getting off on this, but his mind is running wild and he can’t stop, especially with the way you’re starting to squirm from the pleasure. maybe this isn’t so bad, after all.

HUANG RENJUN

renjun acts like he despises the idea, but secretly, he loves it. in some ways, it’s a romantic thing for him. there’s so much trust involved and he enjoys being able to make you feel good in any way, this included. he just hates (read as loves) how much control you can gain over him when you touch him in his sleep. there’s a fairly equal power dynamic between you, taking turns being in control when you’re in the right mood, but when he’s asleep, he becomes putty in your hands, pliant as he melts into every touch. that just so happens to be the very reason that you adore it. waking him up with your lips wrapped around his hardening cock or, even better, your warm walls clenching around him guarantees you the best reaction from him; whiny, little moans mixed with whimpers as his tired eyes flutter open and he tries to figure out what’s happening in his sleepy daze before giving in and letting you milk his cock. you’ve reassured him dozens of times that if he doesn’t like it or the dynamic that tends to arise, he can always tell you to stop, but with flushed cheeks and a downward gaze, he tells you that it’s okay, that he loves it.

that’s why you know he won’t complain when he wakes up to your hand slowly stroking him, his bottoms and boxers tugged down his thighs, precum dripping onto his stomach. his face looks calm and peaceful, long lashes fluttering occasionally, lips parted slightly. it isn’t long before he starts whimpering, soft, little sounds passing his pretty lips. his expression shifts a little, breathing starting to grow heavy as you continue to work him up. you settle between his legs and start kissing at his thighs, lips sucking faint little marks into the creamy skin when you first notice him start to stir. his moans are getting louder and his brows furrow, hands gripping the sheets below him. he wakes just as you dip your head down to wrap your lips around him, barely comprehensible pleading falling from his lips as he grows closer and closer to his high. he’s whimpering and whining, body so pliant under you as he looks down at you with dazed, teary eyes.

“p-please, please, please let me cum, ‘ve been so g-good for you.”

LEE JENO

as much as jeno loves the idea of touching you while you sleep or being touched in his sleep, he prefers both of you being awake. jeno gets off on seeing you feel good, seeing him make you feel good and he feels like he’s being deprived of that if one of you is asleep. that doesn’t mean that he won’t try it though. he knows your body so well, knows just what to do and where to touch you to have you writhing under him in minutes. he takes his time despite that, pressing soft, little kisses down your jaw and neck to your chest, letting his large hands roam over your body. jeno spreads your legs and gets settled between them, slowly tugging your bottoms off. his earlier actions have your panties growing damp, cute, little spot growing as he continues to gently grope your body. his fingers slowly start rubbing you through the fabric and he relishes in the sweet moans you start letting out. he quickly grows impatient though, tugging your panties down to bury his face in your sopping cunt. you smell so good and taste even better, and jeno would happily die like this, drowning in you.

your noises only grow as he starts eating you out, tongue lapping through your folds desperately like a man starved. your fingers start curling around the sheets, body twitching from the pleasure. his nose nudges your clit, the sensation making your thighs threaten to close around his head. he uses his hands to keep them apart, determined to wake you up to the best possible climax. your head is foggy with sleep, but you quickly register what was happening, crying out as he brings you closer and closer to your high. you make eye contact and that’s what sends you over the edge, releasing on his tongue. he licks it all up thoroughly, looking up at you as you slowly relax.

“sorry, baby, you just taste so sweet, couldn’t wait.”

LEE DONGHYUCK

he practically dragged you to bed the first time you mentioned it and it’s become a fairly regular thing since. hyuck loves the idea, loves that you trust him enough to let him touch you while you sleep. the two of you had always been experimental, this being a random suggestion that had come up and donghyuck can’t get enough of it. this night, he can barely sleep, half hard in his shorts. he debated touching you now, reaching down to feel your cunt throbbing with need for him, but he always preferred waking you up in the morning so he forces himself to wait.

he wakes up a little bit earlier than usual the next morning, happy to see you still curled up to him. thoughts of his plan from the night before fill his mind and he observes you for a little, trying to figure out if you’ll wake up any time soon. once he’s sure that you’re still fast asleep, he pulls the blankets that cover the two of you down. he’s thankful that you don’t wear a bra to bed, nipples hardening under your top from the cool air. he plays with your tits through your shirt for a little, relishing in the sleepy, little moans you let out. when he pulls away, you seem to settle a little, but when he pulls down your bottoms to reveal your soaked panties, he knows you’re affected by his touch; maybe you had even gone to bed with it on your mind like he had. he quickly pushes your panties aside, running his fingers through your folds and watching you twitch. he pulls his shorts and boxers down, stroking himself a couple times before slowly easing into you. you’re so warm and tight, hugging his cock perfectly as he thrusts shallowly. you’re moaning softly now, fingers gripping at the pillowcase. you clench around him, still somehow asleep and he nearly cums then and there, willing himself to wait a little longer. his thrusts get a little quicker, reaching deeper parts of you and that’s when you stir, whimpering as your sleepy eyes look up at him. his cock is nearly pistoning into you at this point and you cum shortly after, face warm and head a little fuzzy.

“h-hyuck?” you whimper and that’s the last straw for him, one final thrust and filling you with his cum.

“morning, baby”.

NA JAEMIN

there’s nothing that jaemin loves more than waking up to feeling your messy cunt clenching around him as you fuck yourself on his cock. he loves watching you use his body for pleasure, especially when he’s sleeping; it just shows how desperate you are for him. both have you have set your boundaries and there’s enough trust there to know that the other won’t go any further than you’ve specified. you couldn’t lie, jaemin’s willingness to let you do almost anything you wanted worried you at first, but after the first time you rode him while he slept, you couldn’t get enough. something about having sex with him while he slept so peacefully made it that much hotter. he always wakes up just as you cum, catching your fucked out look through his tired gaze and you can practically see the lust once he realizes what’s happening.

it’s perfect when he had a rough day, waiting until he’s fully drifted to sleep before tugging his boxers down to reveal his soft cock. just a couple slow strokes has him hardening in your hand, precum gathering at the tip soon after. using that and some spit, it’s easy to sink down onto him, walls stretching around him. you always wonder how he doesn’t wake up with the way you’re moaning so lewdly, bouncing on his cock so that his tip reaches your sweet spot every time. the way he stretches you out no matter how many times he’s fucked you along with the visual of him still asleep and the groans that begin to slip past his lips is enough to bring you to your orgasm fairly quickly. jaemin always wakes up at the perfect time, seeing just how far gone you are from his cock, watching you with a tired smile on his lips. he hasn’t touched you once and you’re falling apart, his cock and your thighs sticky with your release, eyes dazed and a little teary, lips shiny with your spit. he thinks you look heavenly, especially with the way you’re practically chanting his name.

“having fun, angel?”

#nct dream #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #renjun smut #huang renjun smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut

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waywardcrow · 4 months

Text

This is a request from @tianalsworld and I loved it so much! Hope you like it!

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x f!reader.

TW: Very light talk about the mob, sexual innuendos, suggestive comments, a little of angst and threaths from reader, no use of y/n, minors dni. English is not my first language so let me know if I make any grammar mistakes.

Graphics by @ firefly-graphics so all the credits to the creator.

“Hello, doll, you look astonishing today” you rolled your eyes at Bucky’s greeting, ignoring the jump your heart gave in your ribcage, you hated this man.

“Don’t call me doll, Barnes” you hissed, focused in getting the right amount of glass sugar in your mix “save that for the rich ladies attending your party tonight.”

Without giving him a glance you moved around your kitchen, the sun was barely up and your staff would not be there for another half an hour, still you couldn’t sleep. This was your first big event, you were working for a criminal family, yes but you were finally being recognized for your abilities, no longer shoved aside by stupid snobs who believed they were better than you for attending international schools and a manwhore like James Buchanan Barnes would not ruin this for you, no matter how hot he was.

“It’s jealousy what I hear?” he asked and got hit in the hand by you when he went to touch a hot tray.

“In your dreams, Barnes” his mother, the one who hired you, gave you full permission to deal with her son’s antics, knowing damn well his Casanova attitude.

“In my dreams you are sweeter with me, love”

“Well, in reality I have very sharp knives so go and bother someone else” you ordered and his laugh echoed in the empty fancy walls.

“Always making me smile, doll. Keep up with this and we’re going to end up married” Bucky stole a sugar cookie before you could react and walking backwards to the door, he blew you a kiss.

“When hell freezes over!” still, you didn’t believed a word.

Hours later, your kitchen was the complete opposite of what it was in the morning.

Chaos reigned everywhere but you controlled it, disappointing Winnifred Barnes wasn’t an option. Your hands ached, your feet were numb but the adrenaline running through your veins was enough to keep going shouting orders and prepping dishes, your brain going faster that your body and before you could notice, it was over.

The waiters were bringing everything back; the guests went home and your boss went to kiss you twice in the cheeks, beaming with happiness.

“It was perfect, dear, I knew since I saw you that you could do great things” Mrs. Barnes was like the classy ladies you used to see in magazines but she was always so nice to you, you couldn’t help but smile at her, happy for having her approval.

“I’m glad you liked it, Mrs. Barnes”

“I loved it but now, it’s time for you to rest a little, you earned it, we can talk about this and everything else in the morning” with a soft touch to your cheek, she left the kitchen, thanking the staff one more time.

You did the same minutes after, excusing yourself to go for some air you made your way to the garden.

It was only your first month in the Barnes mansion but it felt like a whole life, this could give you a lot of trouble but it was the best job you had so far and if you were totally honest with yourself, you were too enamored with the Barnes family to leave them.

Winnie was so sweet to you, so was the youngest daughter Rebecca and Mr. Barnes was always so polite, asking about your day and if you needed something, then there was Bucky.

The first time you saw him, you thought he was the most beautiful man you ever met and you still thought that way but being familiar with the endless list of women he slept with, it was the safest choice to stay away.

“There she is” Bucky’s voice broke through the night and then he was standing next to you “come, sweetheart, I have something for you.”

He pulled you by the hand and took you inside the house again with little effort, you were so tired.

“Barnes let go, I’m not going anywhere with you” making him stop you tried to pull your hand from his but he didn’t listened.

“Relax, doll, here is not where I go on my knees for you” the lack of food was playing with your mind, did he said what you heard he said?

He made you go in the balcony where a table was set with dishes of your food, candles and wine.

“What- what are you doing?” was your only question when he led you to your chair to pull it and help you take a seat.

“I figure you haven’t eaten all day so I picked your favorites” he explained like if he did this every day while pouring some wine for you.

It was true all your favorite foods were there, even the wine you were dying to try since you saw it in the mansion’s cellar.

“I mean, why are you doing this?” you asked taking a sip of your glass, it would hurt when he finally give up on you and go to the next conquer but it would be for the better.

“Because you take care of everyone here, I thought someone should take care of you for once” Bucky explained unfolding his napkin with something that looked like a nervous attitude but that wasn’t impossible, he was a fuckboy, a manwhore, the type of man that sleeps in a different bed every night and you were… you, there was no way you made him nervous.

“That’s very kind, Bucky” you admitted and his smile was shiny enough to dare the stars in the sky.

“Maybe this way you would see I’m a good guy and go out with me” he winked and maybe it was how tired you were or the wine but you laughed.

“When hell freezes over, Barnes.”

Here I am, obssesing over one more mob!Bucky and it feels great! Let me know what you think.

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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sanspuppet · 5 months

Text

MDNI - smut

professor!Mingi x afab!reader

W/T: University AU, unprotected sex, breeding, public sex, quick dick sucking, reader’s first time, pet names (pretty, lovely, darling)

A/O: @ahimhere here’s your request for the prompt “Shush, we can’t have anyone hearing this”, i figured some professor Mingi, hope you can enjoy hehe <3

When the bell rang, and all the people that frequented your course left the classroom, the professor called your name once you walked next to his desk.

“Y/n, Miss. Can you please come over to my office? We need to talk about something.” Your body blocked, hearing his low voice demanding you. You couldn’t deny that he’s the finest, the most handsome man that you’ve ever seen, and the classes you had with him were always hard to focus on, as you were completely infatuated by his hot look. You shook your head to turn again to reality, pressing hard your books against your breast due to nervousness: why would he want to talk with you?

“Oh… Yes, surely Sir” you headed to his personal office, after walking over the class door. Your gaze was locked down your shoes, your cheeks felt burning at the thought of being alone with him.

You turned around to see him walking behind you, he reached the door and opened it with one of the keys he hold in his pocket pants. The man nodded to you as he sat on his chair. You walked over him and sat shyly on one of the two other chairs in front of the huge desk.

“So…” he opened a drawer, where he placed his books before closing it back. “You’re seriously a model student” his eyes were locked on yours, he had his fingers crossed when he continued: “You still have great grades, even though you seem very distracted during my lessons”

“Oh, uhm…” you blinked while staring at the floor, your mind was elaborating a good excuse, but the man beat you on time: “I’ve started to think that the reason you can’t focus properly is because of me, do i bother you?” You were confused as you saw a slight smirk diving onto his face, waiting silently for you to reply him.

“Yes- i mean… kind, of. I’m sorry.”

The man nodded, shaking slowly his hand to you. “You don’t have to be, i only need you to explain why you’re being distracted by me, so maybe we can work on this together.”

You played with your hands nervously, chuckling shyly and shaking your head before articulating the dumbest thing you could have said: “Oh no, no i shouldn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow, standing up to get closer to you. He held on his knee with a hand as the other lifted your chin. “Why shouldn’t you? Miss, i have already figured out why. But i want you to say it, so i can be sure of that”

Your heartbeat accelerated at the idea of him knowing that you use to fantasize about him during his classes, mixed with the sight of his face close to yours enough to feel his warm breath.

“I dream of… you, during lessons” you weren’t actually going to say what you daydreamed of him, right? It’d be so shameful, for your imagine of perfect student, but you couldn’t do anything about being a fucking pervert when it came to that professor.

“About? Keep going.” His hand never left your chin as he kept trying to make eye contact with you, despite your eyes were forcefully locked on the floor.

“H-having…” you gulped before continuing. “sex, here.”

He pulled back, murmuring a long: “Ooh~” with his arms crossed. “Just as i thought” He supported himself with the desk top. “I still don’t blame you, every student has his specific distraction… what i am asking to myself and obviously you, is… What should we do about it?”

Your mouth hung open waiting for your mind to elaborate anything, but the only thing that left your mouth was a simple: “i don’t know Sir…”

He scratched his chin, widened his eyes once he chose the best option: “Tell me y/n, if i fuck you and consequently fulfill your needs, will you focus better during my classes?” He got closer to you again.

The air inside the room felt heavy, you were struggling to breathe, and you could feel drops of sweat resting on your forehead as soon you realized how hot it was there. You were fatigued by some unknown reason before, but now the heat between you and your professor seemed uncontrollable to you, so couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Yeah, i think.” you murmured, finally looking at him. The man was loosening the knot of the tie to breathe better, you watched him unbuttoning his shirt, every movement of his got you wetter as reaction. You stood up and bent over his desk, your skirt was already on the floor when you dragged down your panties, a string of arousal connecting them to your pussy.

He groaned once he turned to see you prepared to take him. His hands were caressing your hips, his eyes inspecting every detail of your bare skin, even though you were one of his students, he couldn’t deny that you’re a hot yet pretty girl.

“I know i shouldn’t make preferences, but you’re my favorite student y/n, such a beautiful and smart girl.” You shyly chuckled, but the slight laughter quickly turned into a needy moan as soon as you felt his fingers slicking against your sticky cunt. “Shush, we can’t have anyone hearing this” You obeyed him, biting your lower lip to muffle any sound that could have escaped your mouth.

“Unfortunately i don’t have any condoms here with me, i will have to breed you, if it isn’t a problem.” You nodded, turning your head to try to look at him while he unzipped his pants. “You can”

In less than a minute he was already buried inside you, pumping as fast as he could without making any sound of skin slamming against skin. His hands were gripping your waist to hold better, your suffocated moans made him even hornier. “Fuck it’s so tight, is this your first time lovely?” his pace slowed down to help you reply easier.

“Y-yes” you layed on your elbows, your face was pressing against the wood of the desk.

“Oh so bad, your boyfriend should have been your first.” He was already tired of the sleepy pace, so he started to hammer again roughly into your pussy. You breathed deeply before talking back:

“It’s o-okey—fuck, i- i’m in love with you” you were so embarrassed to say it, even though it was the truth.

“We’ll se what we can do about it, but for now, let’s focus on orgasming, got it pretty?”

In effect, you found yourself really close to your high, but you still wanted to fuck with him more. The nasty and squelching sound was too loud that there was no fucking way it couldn’t have been heard from ourside, but even if people were probably thinking the professor was having a quicky with the sexy English teacher, he was actually fucking “the sexy student” as how he used to call you for himself. You could notice that the thrust became sloppier at some point, warning you that he was close to climax soon.

“God, i’d like to fuck you all day long but we have other classes in five minutes” He slammed his big cock inside your throbbing cunt enough to make your clit red from how he was balls deep in you. The heat turned into pure desperation of cumming as you two kept fucking.

“Sir… i’m close” you whined with your face squeezed into your arm to muffle the occasional loud noises.

“Gonna spurt my cum into you very soon lovely, get ready” he couldn’t hold back his groans, too.

You came the same second you felt a hot liquid releasing into your pussy, mixing it with your own. The man behind you groped your ass, spreading your ass cheeks to admire the mess leaking slowly out of you.

“Does it bother you if you keep it inside until you get home, darling?” he asked you, dragging your panties up to put them in place again. “it’s fine”

Once you were fully clothed, you turned around to look at him. Quite to your surprise he pointed at his still leaked crotch.

“Could you please clean it up, quickly?”

You immediately kneeled, licking down on all his length until all the cum on it was in your stomach. You took him out of your mouth with a pop, he didn’t wait any longer before putting back on his pants along with the boxers.

“I had a great time y/n. About what you said to me, maybe we can give us a chance, don’t you think? Let me give you my number, when you’re completely sure about that, we can hang out together.” he smiled at you, after asking for you phone where he could type his phone number.

After a minute, when the bell rang again, he opened the door holding it for you to leave his office first.

“Thank you, Sir” you cooed, a genuine smile popping out your face.

“You can call me Mingi, now go, maths is waiting for you” he chuckled back.

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milaisreading · 5 months

Note

Hiiii, it's me again, I saw you posted that your request are open, and was thinking if you could write something about Sae and Manager reader please? I really miss himmm, and maybe add to it wherein he gets to spend most of the time with reader making him him all smug towards the other players. That's all thank you!!! I really love all your works ❤️.

🌱🩷: This one was just dusting away in my drafts! Hope u like it!!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

It felt like a dream to Rin that he didn't hear of or see Sae for 5 months. No mention of him on the news, the other players, or magazines. It was heaven for Rin, but all good things have to end somehow. And today it was the turn for Rin to remember the cruel reality of his brother being in the same facility as him. And, truthfully, it would have been more bearable if Sae minded his business and wasn't hogging all of (Y/n)'s attention right now!

"Rin..." The said boy turned to look at Karasu, who was resting his head on the table, glaring at the older Itoshi's back.

"What?"

"I will be kind enough to warn you now, your brother will be dead meat by the end of his stay here."

"Whose genius idea was it to host Re Al, again? This is hell." Otoya added in, narrowing his eyes as Yukimiya kept quiet. He was pissed just like the other three were, but he needed to keep quiet. He didn't want to have an outburst in front of (Y/n). Speaking of her, where was she? Well, (Y/n) was occupied with catering to Sae and whatever his needs were. The JFA did hold him to a certain standard, so someone making sure his needs were met was expected by the Blue Lock team. But why did (Y/n) have to be that someone?! She was their manager!

"I am tired to this. Can I just go and punch him?" Otoya asked as he looked at Rin for approval.

"Make sure to knock his teeth out." Rin narrowed his eyes as Sae moved closer to the girl, who was busy explaining something to the redhead.

"Don't do that. You will make (Y/n) mad." Karasu groaned, looking away from the scene.

"But-"

"Karasu is right, Otoya. Sae might use that as a way to hog even more time with her." Came Yukimiya's response.

"Sae-san, you really aren't listening, are you?" The group of four turned to look at the said boy and (Y/n), who had an annoyed look on her face.

'Adorable!' Otoya thought.

'Like an angel!'

'Can she look at me like that?! God, please.' Yukimiya and Karasu's thoughts followed after. Rin started blushing himself, not paying attention to Sae moving closer to her to look at some note she made. That was until Sae sent a small glance at Rin, his face decorated with a satisfied smirk.

'Jerk bastard of a brother!! This is war now!'

"(Y/n) this and (Y/n) that. Ahh.... when are Re Al leaving again? Why do I have to cater to Sae-san's every need?" The girl groaned as she held a basked of freshly folded laundry. Not just any laundry, but Sae's. He was training with his team so she had to finish some arrangements for him.

"(Y/n)!! Where were you?! We need your help!" The girl jumped in surprise and turned to look at some of the Blue Lock players running towards her.

"Bachira, Chigiri, Isagi? What did you three need? Also, you have a substitute manager for now?"

"It's hell! (Y/n), we need you back! The manager mixed up my shampoo with Nagi's, now my hair smells like wood." Chigiri whined, hugging the girl tightly around her shoulders. Isagi nodded, chiming in as well.

"And it's boring without you, too. You always make training more fun."

"And you don't mind feeding me. I miss that." Bachir added in as he and Isagi moved closer to her.

"Please come back."

(Y/n) blushed a little and laughed in amusement, trying to get Chigiri's hold off of her.

"You guys are being a little too dramatic. I will be back soon. After all, Re Al won't be staying here for too long."

"I hope so. They got annoying." Isagi rolled his eyes as Chigiri let her go, pouting a little.

'I lied. It's only Sae who is annoying."

"Can't you at least hang out with us now?" They turned their attention to Bachira.

"After all, you aren't doing anything with Sae now."

"Hey, yeah. You can join us now!" Chigiri said with star eyes.

"Sorry, you three. I need to bring Sae-san his laundry."

"What?! He can do it-"

"Ah, (Y/n). There you are. I need your help with something." Isagi got interrupted by Sae's voice echoing down the hallway. (Y/n) immediately looked away from the trio and back at Sae, nodding her head.

"Sure. Sorry, I need to go now." Giving them an apologetic smile, (Y/n) turned and walked to where Sae was. The trio felt deflated for a moment, but their anger ignited as Sae discreetly sent them a satisfied look.

'Sucks to suck.' What what that look read.

'Bastar!!'

'(Y/n) is my manager! Not yours!'

'Stupid Itoshi!!'

"Was it necessary for me to eat with you?" (Y/n) questioned as she took a bite from her salmon. Sae stopped eating for a moment. The boy looked around for a bit, as if in deep thoughts before nodding his head.

"Of course."

Inwardly, (Y/n) groaned as she started eating her food again. It was silent for a bit as she kept on looking at her food, but when she looked up, she felt like screaming in fear.

'Does he hate me or something? The glare is frightening.' (Y/n) thought, looking down at her food again. It was true, Sae was glaring in her direction, but not at her. He was glaring at two peers of his from Re Al, as he did notice them trying to walk up to their table.

'Nobody is interrupting my lunch with her.' The boy thought, sighing in relief as the two teammates finally backed away. Sae returned to eating his food, ignoring the glares he was receiving from the players of the Blue Lock team.

'This isn't fair! I was supposed to eat with her tonight!' Hiori thought. A gloomy aura had surrounded Niko, who was glancing at them from time to time. Barou was the most frustrated of the bunch, nearly breaking his knife in half.

'That reheaded bastard.'

'This is just a slap in the face. I wanted to eat with her. Why him and not me? I have red hair, too... kind of.' Kurona thought, putting his head on the table. Aryu kept on huffing from time to time, trying to ignore the jealousy he was feeling. It was, in his words, not stylish to feel it.

'Stupid Itoshi.'

'Is it because he is a pro that (Y/n) hangs out with him more now?' Tokimitsu gulped a little. Kunigami was gloomier than usual.

"Hmmm... I lost my appetite..." Gagamru pouted, playing with his food as he stared at (Y/n).

"Reeooo." Nagi groaned, his eyes never leaving the duo. The said boy, who was beyond annoyed by now, sharply looked at the albino.

"What, Nagi?"

"Do you know people who can make someone disappear?"

"I wish I did..."

"Hmmm? You have food there." The group that was present watched in shock as Sae took a napkin and removed some of the food that was near (Y/n)'s lips.

"T-thanks." The girl said, blushing from the embarrassment.

"It's nothing." Although he sounded bored, Sae really enjoyed the view.

'Losers.' The redhead thought, feeling their glares even more.

'This is war!'

'Why him?! Why not me?!'

Sae eventually learned what sort of annoyance the Blue Lock team felt as he watched his captain, Luna and (Y/n) interact. The older was giving her his usual nonchalant smile as the girl was clearly flustered. He kept his annoyance in for a good 5 minutes.

"Thanks again for the help, (Y/n)."

"Ahm... No-no need to thank me, Luna-san! I will gladly help you out with anything-"

(Y/n) let out a startled gasp as Sae grabbed her wrist and dragged her away.

"Come. I need your help with something."

"You just said you didn't need anymore-"

"I lied." Sae shrugged, keeping up his cool act.

"You Itoshis are confusing."

Luna's laugh was heard from behind them, already understanding what was going on.

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multi-fandomfuckboy · 2 months

Text

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 27: Gifts

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 27, Part 28 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Sorry about the wait Word Count: 3,816 Warnings: none

The rest of your night is spent tossing and turning in bed. The prickling along the skin of your hand and wrist are your only reminder of what happened in the car, not to mention the memories that flood your mind every time you close your eyes. Billy’s coy smile, how his eyes devoured your every move, the hungry glint in them at the sounds you made. Your stomach writhes, flipping and swirling the more your mind lingers on the interaction.

It irritates you, the effect he has on you. Every smirk, or touch sends your heart into overdrive. It doesn't help that your experience with relationships up to this point have never gone further than hand holding. But, this electricity that exists between you and Billy seems to be short circuiting all your logic and reason.

You’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about things like this, you’re not a child, Nancy has told you plenty about her relationship with Steve. You just never took any interest in it. Until now it seems. You're plagued by thoughts of Billy pressed against you, his calloused hands holding you tightly, his lips against your skin, the feel of his hot breath mixing with yours. Fuck.

You turn your head, releasing a pent up scream into your pillow until you're out of breath.

When exhaustion finally wins out, you’re cast into another restless sleep.

———-

You’ve been here before. It’s dark and cold, familiar. Home. It’s quiet right now, for now. You’re not needed, yet. Fear twists through every tendril of your being, as much a part of you as the darkness. You can feel the shadow in your mind, waiting. Ready to bend, break if needed. You’re tired. But, there is no rest here. No peace. No hope. Forever.

———

This is different. Not cold, warmth washes over you. The sound of crashing waves is rhythmic, almost like breathing. It soothes the initial panic of being in a new place, so bright and peaceful. It’s so different from the other place. You are able to glance around, there is no one else here. An empty beach. It’s nice.

———

The sound of your mom trying to sneak out of your room wakes you the next morning.

“Mom?” You ask, propping yourself up on an elbow, wiping sleep from your eyes. She stops, her hand on the door. She’s still in her scrubs, the only illumination in the room is the light coming in from the hallway.

“Hey sweetie.” She greets you softly, turning to face you, an apologetic smile already on her lips. “I was just checking on you, go back to sleep.” She tries to reassure you. Your gut twists, you can barely see it in the dim light but it’s definitely there. The ever present worry you inspire in her. You were having some kind of nightmare, you can feel it in the tense in your muscles and the ache in your bones. Feeling the exhaustion that plagues you from the tension your dreams bring into reality.

“I’m sorry mom.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair feeling the dampness of sweat. Her smile falters, pulling tighter at your apology.

“Don’t be sorry love. It just takes… time.” She reminds you. You know it’s what she needs to believe. That with enough time your mind will heal, that the nightmares will eventually fade.

“It’s getting better.” The lie tastes bitter. Her shoulders sag slightly, like she can feel the lie physically. She won’t press though, both of you are happy to let it sit between you. It’s easier than facing reality.

She pads over to your bed, gently stooping to press a kiss on your brow.

“I love you.” She says softly. You can’t help the small smile that pulls from you.

“I love you too.” You reply reflexively. You always say it back, just in case. It’s an easy truth, for the both of you. She pulls away, her smile a bit more relaxed than it was. “Go back to sleep.” She says again, patting your head as she steps back towards the door. She gives you a pointed look you know she normally only reserves for unruly patients, leaving no room for argument.

“Alright. No need to pull out the nurse mom voice.” You joke, lying back down. She laughs lightly at your joke, slipping out the door.

“Goodnight kiddo.” She says softly. You roll onto your other side, your back towards the door. You watch the light narrow into a sliver of the wall opposite you as she closes the door, leaving it open only a crack. Then laying still, you focus on slowing your breathing, listening to the sounds of your mom moving around the house getting ready for bed. She’s awake for another half hour, eating leftovers, looking through the mail, showering, and finally you hear the springs of her mattress creak as she gets into bed.

You listen to the silence for a little bit. You like the quiet. Your life has been chaos for so long, from the moment you woke up in the hospital and every day since it feels like the world has erupted into too many sounds. Everyone talking, a constant low level buzz of activity. It’s sometimes enough to drive you crazy.

When you're certain your mom is asleep, you quietly slip out of bed and get dressed. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you note that it’s only 6AM, still early enough for your morning walk to be peaceful. The house is still dark, but you move through it easily navigating in the dim light of morning. You gather your journal, and fill your water bottle placing both into your bag. When you go to put on your shoes, the dangling remainder of your sole catches your attention. You inspect the dilapidated sneaker for a moment, trying to think of the best way to cobble it back together. You eventually settle on duct taping the pieces back together, wrapping the tape around the shoe a couple of times to make sure it's secured.

It’s not pretty, but technically it’s a whole shoe again. Satisfied that your solution is functional, you lace up your shoes and grab Steves’ jacket from the coat rack. Slinging your bag over your shoulder you head out the door. The dawn is cold, the sky a dim shade of gray, everything still cast in shadow the morning fog slowly creeping over the earth.

You pick up a steady pace, heading for your favorite sunrise spot. There is a hill about a mile east that looks out over the currently barren fields and will be the first spot in Hawkins to see the sun. It also happens to have a very comfortable rock that is perfect for sitting and writing.

By the time you reach it, the sun has just started to peak over the horizon, bathing the top of the hill in golden sunlight. You can feel its warmth on your exposed skin, the cold morning air still clinging to the shadows. You take out your water bottle and notebook, setting the empty bag down on the cold rock. You sit down, positioning yourself to face the sunrise, taking a moment to watch the earth in front of you slowly brighten, the light washing away the remaining shadows. It’s quiet here, as quiet as it can be in nature. There are still the chirps of the birds and the rustling of dead leaves as small animals pass by, but peaceful.

You know that you can’t stay out too long. You may not notice the cold but your body still has a physical response to it and it's still the middle of December. So you open your notebook and begin.

The story you’ve been working on is not peaceful. It is a terrible story about a young boy raised to fight monsters. He’s known no other life, he was born with the burden of being the only one who can see these monsters, and he can never stop. But the older he gets, and the harder he fights to protect the world from evil, he realizes that a bit of that evil has taken root in him. It starts small, a black spot behind his ear, but it grows. It digs its roots in deep, twisting its way into his soul.

In the beginning the young man starts off as the hero, but eventually the evil will consume him and he will become what he fought so hard against. You know the ending, but it’s not written yet. There is still hope in the middle of the story.

When you notice the red tinge in your fingertips brought on by the chilly December air you stop and pack up your things. Taking one last glance around at the now illuminated field, you turn and head back home.

You arrive at the same time Steve pulls into your driveway. You can see him through the window as you approach and he looks a bit worse for wear. His hair is damp, hanging loosely around his pale face. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses but are no doubt blood shot with circles under them. He cuts the engine as you approach the drivers’ side, opening the door to haul himself out with a grunt of effort.

“Alright grandpa, how’s that hangover treating you?” You ask, unable to stop your teasing smirk even for his sake. He sighs heavily, closing the door just to lean back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What kind of friend are you?” He asks, lifting a brow. “How could you let me drink that much?” You come to a stop in front of him, crossing your arms to mirror him.

“Because according to you, you’re ‘a grown ass man’ who ‘knows how to handle his alcohol’, and because I ‘never let you have any fun’.” You say, throwing air quotes around some of the excuses he gave you when you tried to get him to slow down the night before. A bit of pink brightens his cheeks at the reminder, but he laughs good naturedly at your teasing.

“Stop holding me accountable for my own actions.” He groans. “I don’t feel good, so I’m just going to blame you to make myself feel better.” He goes on, pressing his finger tips against his temples. His small smile brings a bit of life back to his ashen face.

“Oh of course. Whatever makes your life easier Steve.” You concede, your own smile pulling at your lips. He huffs a laugh, lifting his sunglasses onto his head. There is a beat of silence before he clears his throat, his cheeks flushing a bit more.

“And- uh- thanks. For, you know, babysitting me last night.” He says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his beck. Your stomach drops at the reminder, you didn’t think Steve was sober enough to remember much but apparently he remembered enough. You wonder if he remembers how he had held you against him, crying quietly in the kitchen while you whipped his tears. How he had gently lowered his forehead to yours and held your palm against his beating heart. You don’t want to press the subject, especially if he doesn’t remember everything.

“Don’t mention it, I’ll bill your parents later.” You joke, forcing yourself to chuckle. Steve laughs lightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks you up and down, nodding his head towards his jacket you’re still wearing.

“The jacket looks good on you.” He says. You look down at the old bomber jacket, moving to unzip it.

“Yea sorry I just borrowed it to walk home last night. I, uh, couldn’t sleep.” You tell him, the unspoken truth behind your words not lost on him. He’s familiar with your anxious habits that don’t always make sense. That you have a tendency to walk away when your brain won’t settle down. His hand stops yours on the zipper, pulling it away.

“It’s okay, you can keep it.” He tells you. “I don’t wear it anymore anyways.” He explains, looking down at his hand encircling your wrist.

“Thanks Steve.” You beam up at him. He smiles back , his thumb running over the underside of your wrist. Your heart leaps. In that moment you wonder if he’s somehow feeling where Billy’s lips had been the night before. But that’s ridiculous.

“It will be a nice reminder of me while I’m gone. Along with this.” He says, pulling something from his pocket. Your eyes widen at the sight of a delicate gold chain, glinting in the sun, a small pendant hanging perfectly in the center.

“What is that?” You ask in confusion. Steves’ smile only grows as he drapes the shining metal over your wrist, easily clasping it in place.

“It’s your Christmas present. I’m giving it to you early cause I won’t be back until after new years.” He tells you, one hand still gently cupping your wrist. “The lady told me it’s real so it won’t leave a ring or anything.” He tells you as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.

Heat flushes your cheeks as you inspect the bracelet. You take in the intricate beauty of the simple chain, small links twisting and interlocking into a light strand of glittering gold. A simple pendant hangs from the middle. A brilliant shining sun, catching and reflecting the light, casting off its own rays as it hangs from your wrist. It’s beautiful. More elegant than anything you’ve ever owned. Something twists low in your gut.

“Steve, I can’t take this.” You tell him, moving to unclasp the chain. He instantly pushes your hand away.

“Of course you can.” He insists. Suddenly his eyes fill with worry. “Do you not like it?” He asks, his smile falling. Your stomach sinks.

“No, I- I like it, it’s really beautiful. It’s just too nice.” You try to explain. Steve sighs with relief, his smile returning in an instant.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a bracelet, it’s not like I bought you a car or something.” He laughs at his own joke. You struggle to maintain your smile. You know that money isn’t really an issue with Steve’s allowance but it doesn’t make you feel any better. He should be saving his money for school, not spending it on pretty things for you. Steve’s eyes catch on to your discomfort almost instantly. “Please accept it.” He pleads sincerely. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” He explains, one of his fingers flicking over the sun pendant.

Your heart swells at the sentiment. It’s unbearably cheesy, and very Steve. When your eyes glance up to meet his you’re once again met with the big brown puppy eyes, the hangover makes them look especially sad. You have to suppress a groan.

“Okay.” You finally give in, earning an ear to ear grin from Steve that pulls a smile out of you as well. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Merry Christmas, Babysitter.” He says, pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Merry Christmas.” You reply, wrapping your arms around him. He holds you tightly, pulling you up and into him. “I didn’t get you anything.” You admit, shamefully burying your face in his shoulder. His responding laugh shakes both of you.

“Can I request an official document declaring that I’m your best friend?” He asks. Your cheeks burn at the memory of you and Steve admitting that you are each other's best friends the night before. You laugh, trying to swat at him but he keeps his arms locked around you. “Can I get it notarized as well?” He adds, still laughing.

“Oh shut up.” You groan, earning another laugh. When he finally lets you go, you take a half step back. You’re hyper aware of the bracelet, holding your arm slightly away from your body to keep it from catching on any of your clothes and potentially scuffing it.

“Aren't you flying out today? When are you supposed to head to the airport? ” You ask, glancing at your watch.

“I was supposed to leave 10 minutes ago.” He tells you flatly. You gap at him.

“You what? What are you doing here? You’re going to miss your flight you dork!” You practically yell at him, giving his arm a shot towards his car.

“I had to come say goodbye.” He says, laughing as he opens the door and allows you to shove him into the driver's seat.

“You could have just called!” You say, slamming the door closed as soon as his legs are in. You see him laugh again through the window. The engine roars to life as Steve cracks the window, still smiling.

“No I couldn’t.” He says, like it’s a fact. That gets an eye roll from you.

“Get out of here before I’m stuck with you all winter break.” You tell him, unable to stop the small smile that he always manages to drag out of you.

“I’ll call you from the resort!” He tells you, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the drive. “Don’t miss me too much!” He calls from the end of the driveway. “I’ll try!” You call back, waving goodbye as Steve gives you one last smile before pulling into the street. You watch the car speed down your street and disappear around the corner before heading towards the house.

An uneasy feeling settles over you as you make your way to your door. You and Steve had quickly become inseparable since the night the gate closed, it was a seamless partnership. It made you feel like there was someone there who had your back. You know that Nancy and Jonathan are still close but the knowledge that Steve will be alone for the next two weeks fills your mind with a low level of anxiety.

A chill snakes down your spine and your hurry into the house. You feel unsettled from the thoughts of Steve being so far away and practically unprotected, your palms itch with the need to do something. Instinctively you begin checking the safety of your own home. Moving quickly and efficiently you check locks on all the doors and windows, then lay hands on all the hidden weapons in the house. When you’ve checked all of them, you settle at the table with your fathers Barretta, pulling out the cleaning kit. It's monotonous work, but cleaning the pistol always seems to ease the itch in your hands when your anxiety picks up.

Rolling up the sleeves on the jacket your attention catches on the glint of gold around your wrist. You examine it for a moment, looking at how the delicate chain contrasts against your sun damaged skin. How it stands in opposition to your calloused hands, your fingernails chewed down to the quick, cuticles picked to an angry red. Your stomach twists.

It really is a beautiful piece of jewelry, delicate and perfectly balanced. Traits you can’t see in yourself. It really is too nice for someone like you.

What if you broke it or scratched it? What if you lost it on a walk? What if you fucked it up?

It’s too good for you. You wish it wasn’t, but it is.

You carefully unclasp the chain, lying it gently on the table before you start cleaning. You lay out the cleaning supplies, setting the pistol down on a rag in front of you. Then you settle into the process of disassembling and cleaning all the small pieces of the weapon. You remember when Hopper had taught you how to properly clean a gun. He told you that he and your dad would sit in silence for hours just sipping on drinks and cleaning the small harmless parts of the deadly machines. He always stressed that it was vitally important for you to understand the inner workings of a gun before ever picking one up. How all the pieces fit together, and if even one small part was missing or broke it would alter the functionality with devastating results.

Your fingers slowly darken with the combination of CLP cleaning oil and burnt carbon. You work diligently, rubbing at any blemishes remaining. When you’re satisfied that the gun is clean, and the anxiety in your mind has lessened slightly, you reassemble your gun and pack up your cleaning kit.

You move to grab the pistol, intending to put it back where it was hidden in your nightstand but pause your eyes catching on how dirty your hands are. You go to the sink and scrub at your hands until they are rubbed raw. When you’re sure that no remnants of carbon or oil cling to your hands, you pick up the gun in one hand and the gold bracelet in the other. You walk to your room, securing the pistol to the underside of your nightstand and placing the glimmering chain on the surface.

You can’t risk accidentally damaging it. Better to keep it here, safe. Your fingers ghost along the edges of the sun pendant, still managing to catch some of the light, glimmering up at you.

The sound of a revving engine causes you to jump.

Billy.

Your eyes dart to the time. 1156. You had lost track of time and nearly forgotten that Billy told you he would pick you up at 12. Not knowing what to expect, you just grab your bag, still packed from your walk, and head out the door before Billy can make enough noise to wake your mom.

Before you step out the door, you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you have killed monsters before and faced shady government agencies, you should not let Billy fluster you the way he does. You are going to be so calm, he’s going to get bored and stop teasing you. That’s the plan.

His eyes are on you from the moment you step out of the house, his gaze follows you all the way to the car. Climbing into the passenger seat you notice he’s playing a cassette, it’s the first time you’ve actually recognized the song. You can’t remember the name, but it’s one of the songs Max showed you that day after school.

“You didn’t have to drive me.” You tell him, buckling your seatbelt. Billy immediately rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.

“Yea, tell that to the duct tape holding your shoes together right now, loca.” He shoots back.

“It’s only one of them.” You grumble, settling into your seat. Billy just chuckles.

“It’s just a ride crazy, don’t make a big deal about it.” He tells you, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of your driveway.

AN: sorry this took so long 😬

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heliads · 3 months

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Hey babe, if you're still taking requests, can I request something for Harry Hook from descendants? It takes place in an AU where basically all the kids are "chosen" to be parts of fairytales. (Think Ever After High mixed with School for Good and Evil). This world is complete with everything you see in disney movies with epic fights and songs. Heroes get love ballads and villains get traditional villain songs. Reader and Harry are friends (with feelings) on the isle and get chosen for a story, and are both super excited because they think they'll both be villains together. So imagine their surprise when they get their first song together and it sounds an awful lot like a love song.

This AU has been living in my head for a long time tbh but I have no writing skills T-T. Feel free to ignore it this is not your style or I accidentally sent this after requests closed.

'one story leads to another' - harry hook

masterlist

On the Isle of the Lost, a story is everything. Receiving a good story catapults a promising villain into a fantastic life of infamy, but a lackluster story seals your fate forever to menial satisfaction alone. Henchmen, not gods. Lackeys and thugs, never the criminal boss in charge.

Then again, a worse fate still could befall you. Many would-be villains go their whole lives without receiving a story. They’re not meant for everyone, at all, even if they mean the difference between a true life or a false existence. You can’t fathom training your whole life just to go without, but it’s the reality for many on your island. Even the deck swabbers get to go on exciting adventures with the great pirates of the sea, and even the lowliest prison guard will still live in a cursed palace.

The story controls your life, both literally and figuratively. Once you’re given a story, you’ll have no choice but to follow it out, even if it ends with your death. Then again, a story isn’t over in a matter of days. It’ll shape your life for decades. Even if the main plot is over, you’ll still be someone, and maybe you’ll feature in other people’s stories, too. There’s no way to make it without a story.

That’s why you’ve been throwing yourself into the pursuit of becoming the main character of your own story. You’ve perfected the arts of all things villain– sword fights that always end with you pulling a secret dagger out of a sleeve to tip the scales in your favor, maniacal laughter, elaborate plotting. You could scheme in your sleep or double-cross a traitor with your hands tied behind your back. Although it’s been a long time in the making, everyone on the Isle can admit that you’re the best of the best, and that a story surely has to be coming your way.

The problem, then, is attracting one. Although no rules are set in stone, there are expectations for how one’s story will come about. There will be an inciting event, of course, and then the songs will begin to appear in your head, the footwork and movements placed in your memories without a second thought. You’ll know you’re in the story, and then your life will change forever.

You’ve already seen one play out with some of your closest friends. Mal, one of your best friends since you were kids, got to live out her nefarious dreams, although even she didn’t see the twist coming in her story. Then again, becoming queen of Auradon is certainly a fine trophy for the child of a villain, even if a true marriage of love isn’t quite the way anyone expected her to steal the crown.

Mal has assured you many times over that your story will be coming too, it has to. There’s no way the magic would skip over you, not when you’ve dedicated so much of your life to being the perfect villain for any role. You can lie and cheat and maim with the best of them, surely you’re shaping up to be the arch nemesis in some hero’s grand journey? Your story will be coming your way. Surely. Surely.

And then, all of a sudden, it does. You feel it like a puppet knows its strings. All of a sudden, you have a purpose that you didn’t before. Your feet carry you out of the training yard and out into the sprawling mess of streets that makes up the Isle of the Lost. Your heart soars, and you take to the roofline, staring out at the world before you. It’s yours, all yours, and you know it’s true, so you sing it. The words come to you in a flash, perfect rhymes curling around your tongue as if they’d been there all your life.

This is what it feels like to be in a story, then. It feels right, more right than anything you’ve known before. Easier than breathing. Simpler than hoping that something like this would come your way, and at last, it has. Nothing could make your flinty heart more proud.

The song ends, and you can hear a ghost of a distant chorus fading out as you make your way back to the ground once more. Your stroll is casual, but the steps are definitely in a specific direction. The last notes fade from the air, your feet stop firmly in place, and you realize that you’re not facing down a potential heist or daring escape but the end of the dock leading into the sea. Directly in front of you lies a pirate ship.

At first, you’re thrilled– an adventure on the high seas would be fantastic. You’re friends with many of the pirates, even if you haven’t yet gotten a chance to test your fortitude against seasickness before. You cast your mind back to the words you’d just sung, trying to remember if you’d chorused anything about an exciting voyage ahead, or maybe the possibility of sunken treasure.

Instead, your heart sinks as you realize you were talking about exploring what was right in front of you. More specifically, someone right in front of you. And, as you stare with no small amount of trepidation at the pirate ship in front of you, you discover that someone else seems to be in a similar situation as you. Someone who’s just stopped singing a very similar song, who’s standing directly opposite you as if placed there by some immortal hand. Someone you know already.

Someone like Harry Hook.

A belated understanding is beginning to nestle itself between your ribs like a knife in the heart. No, this can’t be. You refuse to believe it. Still, when Harry is the first one to make a move, and walks briskly down the gangplank to stand in front of you, and says in an increasingly cavalier tone, “So, you’ve got your story started too, haven’t you?”

“Harry,” you say weakly. “I didn’t realize that you’d also gotten a song.”

“More than a song,” he says grimly. “I’ve got the whole story.”

You stare at him. “You know how it’s going to end?”

Harry had been doing his best to keep his gaze firmly pinioned on a nearby wall, but his eyes flicker briefly, traitorously, over to you when you pose the question. They snap back immediately, though. For a pirate, he’s never been the best liar, although he tends to make up for it with excellent swordsmanship. “No one knows how their story is going to end until they follow it through.”

You narrow your eyes crossly at him. “But you have a guess, don’t you? Spit it out, Hook. I don’t have all day.”

“Actually,” Harry contradicts, seeming to take great joy in the opportunity to be bothersome, “you do have all day. You’re a part of a story now, love. Your whole life is going to be wherever the wind takes you.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Harry. Very helpful. Don’t try to dodge the question, though. You know how this is going to end, right?”

He sighs. “I have an inkling. Very vague. Probably untrustworthy.”

“All pirates are untrustworthy,” you remind him.

He grins broadly, sharklike. “And all children of villains are saints like you, of course.” He groans at your exasperated expression. “Fine, fine. Although I’d suggest you get better at pretending you like playing my little games if you’d like to keep this up.”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve guessed it already, haven’t you?” Harry says testily. “Think about the songs, Y/N. The melody. That wasn’t a villainous monologue, not even your basic pledge for debauchery and ruin. That was a love song.”

You shake your head frantically. “No, Harry. That was so not right. What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” Harry says slowly, “I ‘spose it means we’re meant to fall in love.”

You draw back so quickly that you think you’ve insulted him. “No. Absolutely not. No offense, Harry, but I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he says dryly.

You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not about you, I swear. It’s just– this was supposed to be my story, you know? My whole life. I was supposed to have a glorious adventure, or engage in fantastic battles, but I get one chance at a story and it’s about falling in love? No way. I won’t accept this.”

“You’re acting like I enjoy this too,” Harry retorts. “Quite the contrary, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming about their story for ages. How do you reckon I’m meant to tell my father that I got a love story? He’d laugh at me so hard he’d probably stop getting scared of that crocodile once and for all. I’m just as unhappy with this as you are, but I’m willing to do something about it.”

You eye him cautiously. “Like what?”

“Let’s play along,” he suggests, and when you look like you’re going to snap at him, he raises his hands defensively and adds hastily, “I know, I know, but hear me out, will you? The faster we get things going, the sooner this ends. You know as well as I do that characters from other stories can take part in other ones, too. ‘Sides, maybe this one isn’t just a love story. Maybe we do travel somewhere exciting, we just don’t know it yet. You don’t have to fall in love with me, alright? We can pretend. We’ll sing our songs, then do whatever we want with our hearts. Me, I’m planning to show my strength by carving mine out of my chest and wearing it as a necklace. It would make a pretty pendant, I wager. Plus, all the crew would be awestruck over it.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. “Harry, if you cut your heart out, you’d die. If you want a necklace like that, use one of your enemies’ organs.”

He nods appreciatively. “That might work better, I think.” Then, eyeing you apprehensively, “So, does that mean you’re willing to do it? To play along with our story?”

You sigh. “I think it does. It’s not like we have any choice, do we?”

Harry pulls a face. “A girl is cosmically destined to fall in love with me, and in the heat of the moment of her confession, she says it’s because she doesn’t have any choice. Be still, my heart.”

This makes you smile. “You know it’s not personal, Harry. We’ve been friends for ages, I should hope you know when I’m teasing.”

“And I should hope the same,” he says with mock solemnity, although his faux stony demeanor cracks with a wide grin within moments.

You hold out your hand for him to shake. “To falling in love?”

“To falling in love,” he says, and shakes it. So the story begins.

You’re not going to say that it’s difficult, pretending to be in love with Harry Hook. You’ve never had an issue with his company; he’s one of your oldest friends, all of the villain kids on or around the Isle of the Lost have come in contact with each other before, and you and Harry just so happened to cross paths more than a few times. In fact, you’d go so far as to say that if you were forced to sing love songs with any of the villainous children on this island, Harry would be your preferred choice.

And– the problem with that, see, is that it makes this whole thing sound like something it isn’t. You’re not in love with Harry, even if your story seems designed to make you think otherwise. You know how you felt about him before the story began, and a couple of ditties about finding something special in a person you previously overlooked isn’t going to change anything. Harry is your friend. Nothing more than a potential ally.

But then the story takes you two away from the island for a spell, the two of you co-captaining a small sailing vessel by yourselves in search of a magical talisman that would have the power to make every one of your days enchanting. You had assumed it would be a talisman of some sort, that is; yet when the two of you arrived at the hiding place of this supposed treasure and split up to each pursue one length of a split crossroads, your paths looped around so you came face to face with each other again.

No artifacts, no charms. Just Harry almost stumbling into you, having to wrap one arm around your waist so you don’t fall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’d been running in an attempt to beat your time. You’d chastise him for it were it not for the fact that you were sprinting, too. You wait for Harry to let you go, but he doesn’t, and instead leans closer, so close you can feel his breath hot on your cheek, and then–

You pull away quickly. Harry looks at you like a wounded dog, which makes you feel sick to your stomach. “No,” you say through gritted teeth. “This isn’t– this isn’t us. It’s the story.”

“Is it really just the story?” Harry asks you.

“Yes,” you say, refusing to consider any other option for a second. “You didn’t love me before it started. The magic is messing with our minds. This isn’t real, Harry.”

He starts slowly walking towards you, and afraid you’ll make a mistake you’ll regret once the story ends, you back up in turn, up until the point when your back hits a wall and you can go no further. Harry, however, has nothing in his way but you, and there is nothing to stop him from closing the gap between you once again.

“Tell me it’s not real,” he says lowly.

“It’s not real,” you repeat.

His hand rises to your chin, tilting it up so you have to look in his eyes. He drinks in the sight of you like he’s been marooned alone for days, like salt water has been his only benediction for as long as he can remember. “Tell me,” he says again.

“It’s not,” you insist, but your conviction is gone, drifted away from you on uncertain tides. “It’s the magic. Not us.”

“Not us?” He asks, and kisses you. Slowly, terribly slowly, he kisses you, and in between silently begging him to move faster, do more, you think about all the times you’ve been under a spell in the past, and how this feels nothing like that. Not at all. Whenever you’re under an enchantment, some small part of you knows it’s wrong, giving you just enough hope that you might be able to fight free.

When you kiss Harry, though, you don’t want him to stop. Not at all. Every single particle in your body is beating along to the same erratic pulse through your veins, the one that leans into his touch, reaching for the front of his salt-stained shirt to pull him ever closer to you. If this is your story, you don’t ever want it to end. If there is a writer out there somewhere, feverishly scribbling out your chapters, you hope they never cease, that every one of their movements until the day they die and then past that will bring you more moments with Harry, moments just like this one in which you never have to let him go.

“It’s not just the story,” you tell him amidst ragged breaths when he finally breaks away.

“No?” Harry asks, one brow quirked. Usually, he’d never pass up the chance to gloat, but he looks sorely disheveled, and he can’t take his eyes off of your kissed lips long enough to give him the chance to revel in his victory like he normally would.

Just in case, though, you distract him from the triumph by kissing him again. Somewhere in the surrounding uncharted territory, the waves crash against the shore, the seabirds wheel and sing on the marine breezes, and you find the magic in the one boy who has always been there for you, and always will be, even after your story ends. That is the magic of love, you suppose. Adventures come to a close. Battles are won, heists are accomplished, but what you and Harry share will go on forever. A fitting legacy for the best two villains who ever lived.

#harry hook #harry hook imagines #harry hook x reader #harry hook oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #descendants harry #descendants harry imagines #descendants harry x reader #descendants harry oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot

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chihoshisai · 22 days

Text

Guitarist Ace

Ace x Reader

Part 1

cw : self-sabotaging Ace, drinking, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, Ace needs serious therapy // wc : 3.8K // I'm really loving toxic guitarist Ace to the point i'm planning on writing more of him ♡

tagging : @littleleelee @taylor4taytay @seillarium @acpola01

A Drowned Temper Part 2

Ace wasn’t sure when he blacked out. But when he did wake up, the harsh colors of sunset were creeping all around his apartment. Irritating every cell in his body as he winced while the feeling of consciousness regained him. His brain thumped in his head. His eyes burned. Everything seemed to feel too bright or too noisy. And worst of all, the wretched heated sensation that started to make its way up from his stomach to clog at his throat, before getting released once his head had found the toilet bowl. God, he just wished for every part of his body to stop throwing a tantrum and behave so he could get ready to go on about his business.

Right, now that his emotional probation day had passed, now that he had drunk away his feelings, it was time for things to get real again. The routine — head to his part-time job, go to the studio to practice and maybe hit the bar with his friends. Practice being the highlight until the time they settled for dripped away. Which was a mere two to three hours. As for food? A mere afterthought. Whenever he had time to grab a bite or two in between transit from one place to another. Things were too hectic for him to slow down.

In all honesty, with the way his body felt, almost like it was mutilated, Ace did not have enough willpower to think about you. Nor about the things he had said that had driven you to exit his apartment with a rainfall of tears staining your features. Right now, all he could do was dissociate. Put his brain on autopilot, and do the things he usually did when he wasn’t completely wasted.

The truth was that he feared to take a step back, to consider and analyze things, and that in turn he would come to realize the ugly truth behind his reality. That he needed help. But why ask or seek for it when dreams and opportunities are right around the corner? Why sacrifice lifelong efforts just because you’re having a hard time? Ace was the type to suck it up, letting it explode inside of him rather than coming to terms with his weaknesses. Even if one of them was you. He owed you not one, but many apologies for his shitty behavior. And even if he wasn’t ready to properly own up to it, what with refusing to change and treat himself better, then he’d make up for it with what he did best. Music. Signing, flowers, soft yellow fairy lights mixed with an astonishingly sweet and romantic candlelight homemade diner. The perfect combo that he would accompany with pleading eyes as the cherry on top.

Yet again, you weren’t the priority right now. Finding pain relievers was.

Ace busied himself through a disheveled morning routine — a quick shower, the first clothes he saw and the usual skipping of breakfast as the finishing touch. He would make it up to you eventually. He truly would. But only after the storm that raged inside him and between the two of you yesterday had passed. After all, you were his brightest light of hope and inspiration.

Eventually he made it outside, grunting under the sunlight that discomforted his still present hungover. He survived work, as easy going as it was by working in an instrument shop and using his expertise to guide the clients that wandered in. Work was a breeze of fresh air for Ace. A way to connect and be in constant proximity with his interest while also not being too demanding. And let's not forget the discount, a blessing for not only him but also to his members, providing a comfortable cushion for the otherwise rigid budget spent on instruments and tech. Surprisingly, the pay was good and for some reasons the tips he received were even greater. It was a given that he was attractive, even if he never considered himself that way, but Ace preferred to believe that his sales skills were the cause rather than suspecting his appearance.

With the relief that work had brought on the sensitive body of Ace, late afternoon had managed to come by and announce the end of his shift. As such, he bid farewell to his coworkers and headed to the studio, his feet's dragging along the sidewalk with the nearing of his demanding reality. He sighed, sliding his hands in his pocket, thinking how positive he had to be for the infinite time in front of his band. It was so so fucking exhausting. If not for his believing in his skills and worth, along with his member's, he would've screwed the whole thing a long time ago. Most probably spiraling in the unknown reality that would've welcomed him like a cold shower. Hanging in there was hard. But giving up and trying to pick things up again after some time, with the past possibly repeating itself like chains pulling you down, seemed even harder. Scarier in fact.

Therefore Ace readjusted the guitar case on his back, feeling it heavier than usual as it was the reminder of his journey, clenched his jaw and instead thought ahead for which way to uplift his friend's mood.

The studio in which they regularly performed was situated upstairs with the first floor being for dancing, giving off a cool air with its black walls while also looking quite elegant with leather couches in the lobby. Ace arrived with a yawn that quickly got replaced by his customer service smile upon greeting the manager and a slight bow once learning that the price had been paid and the others were already inside.

However, the true colors that etched at his heart quickly clawed their way to his face once his back had been turned to the lobby's counter. And it was with a scowl that Ace led his feet amidst the corridor, recognizing each door with the inhabitant it housed as a potential threat before stopping in front of one. The only threat behind it being himself. At least once he had stepped in. And his members also. If we forget the other bands and the industry, the greatest obstacle an artist could face was inevitably themselves.

With those last thought echoing in his mind like a warning to give his all for the upcoming three hours, Ace's lungs found themselves rising before emptying themselves of all the inhaled air and consequently providing a counterfeit comfort to his nerves, before a firm hand opened the door to allowed the muffled voices and instrument symphony to pass through the forged smile that stretched Ace’s lips.

There it was again.

The subtle stolen glances of worries. The averting gazes when confronted by eye contact. The pretending to appear busy by fiddling with the instrument. The compassionate smiles.

Ace did not ask for any of it. And because their concern was genuine, he turned a blind eye to it all as there were more pressing issues at hand than nitpicking his bandmate's expressions.

With his positive facial features, he closed the door behind him and let a greeting that had been polished for such situations slide from his dry throat. “Hi, it's good to see you guys are always so early!”

“And you're right on time,” the bass member Marco pointed out nonchalantly.

The drummer Yamato, who until now sat on his chair, rose with a smile. “To be honest, I was starting to wonder where you were, but now that you're here I'm relieved.”

“Sorry, got a busy day at work,” Ace laughed through his lie, depositing his instrument case agaisn't the wall to take out the guitar.

Truth be told, it was quite rare for Ace to arrive remotely at the appointed time, but with the rough evening he's had with you, let's just say that things had hit harder than usual. His feelings. His tears. His anger. His frustration. His increased alcohol intake. His black out. No wonder coming here almost felt like a chore, especially when he was aware that you knew the band's practice schedule.

“Is your girlfriend not coming over tonight?” The pianist Izo asked, his serious expression piercing through Ace's mask.

His smile twitched at it's corner, but by placing the guitar around his body and keeping his gaze on the strings while tuning them, it was enough to appear unbothered despite the complex hurricane that bit his insides. “I don't know, she didn't tell me anything.” His heartbeat raced in anxiety by placing the blame on your silence.

After making sure that the guitar had been plugged in the amplifier, Marco went on to change the mood that started to appear like a morning fog. “Alright then, since we're all here let's get started.”

“Let's play loud enough for everyone outside to hear,” Yamato cheered.

“You're overestimating the sound proofness of these walls,” Izo pointed out with arched eyebrows.

“Who cares, we have to be able to make our music reach the people standing at the far end of the audience after all,” Ace grinned, taking his usual position in the center, turning his neck with a nod to give Yamato the signal.

Three drumstick click traveled through the room, before the harmony of different instruments went on to echo through the walls. Ace, who despite all things considered had been waiting for this moment allowed his voice to be carried by the melodic notes. His sense of loss and failure, mixed with the complications of relationships seeped through his pore by his every breath. Record companies be damned. Auditions be damned. And fuck romance for being so damn difficult. So damn demanding.

Even if he loved you.

In that single moment all that mattered was the polishing of their skills. Until the exhilaration of the practice came to an end, the heated up muscles relaxed, puffed breaths came to be heard and the intensity that once seized the room came to be blown away by the silence of instruments. Their time was up.

“Good job y'all, tonight was a good one!” Ace praised in between breaths, turning to face his band with a proud smile now that his passion has been fueled. Looking at them and the sweat that dripped from their skin was enough to remind him of his faith in them, as well as how he could keep on doing this vice cycle over and over again.

If he wasn't broken, he could keep going. If his fingers still moved, he could keep playing. If his voice wasn't gone, he could keep signing. If his heart was still ablaze, he could keep the band living.

With everyone busying themselves with packing up, Marco took that opportunity to slide himself beside Ace. “You probably shouldn't tag along with us after this. Go and get some rest,” he hushed in a whisper.

Offended by the words, Ace's lips thinned in a line, “what makes you say that?”

“Just some concern for our leader, you know,” he placed a hand on Ace's shoulder, squeezing it in compassion. “I'll handle stuff here so get some rest at home, okay?”

Deep down, granting himself a distraction through the evening merry of eating and drinking with his friends was what Ace desired the most. It would in turn cloud his return home, with an unfocused mind that would cease to think of the difficult stuff and lull him to sleep proficiently. But going home sober meant facing a reality he had yet to swallow. A reality that had been postponed by his hangover. And with his mind finally free from the haze, he would undoubtedly think of you. Of the vile speech he gave you all while standing in the cold night veil of his apartment. Alone. Clear headed. In silence. More than anything, he dreaded the direction his thoughts would take towards himself in the solitary confinement of his head.

“What are you guys whispering about,” Yamato asked with furrowed eyebrows. The drums belonged to the studio, meaning that he only had his sticks to pack.

Bending to pick up his guitar case before putting it on his back, brushing away the hand simultaneously, Ace gave an innocent smile. “It's nothing,” he spared no look towards Marco, knowing full well he failed to answer his question.

“Then let's go eat already,” Yamato chirped, wrapping an arm around Ace's shoulders.

“About that,” Marco began, forcing both to look in his direction, along with Izo who had just finished packing his piano and turned to join the conversation, “Ace won't be able to join us tonight. He's quite tired you see.”

The nonchalant attitude almost made Ace burst out in anger. But his mind knew that the words were spoken out of worry for him, and therefore used that knowledge to lock in the emotions alongside the thousands of others ones who had met the same fate, preventing them from seeing the light. Instead, his lips pursed in a weary way while he nodded.

“Is that so. Then get some rest,” Yamato voiced with a nod accompanied by an encouraging smile and a fist bump on Ace's shoulder.

“Get home safe,” Izo added in turn.

The words forced to come out of his throat with an unsuspicious tone while anxiety dreaded in the pit of his stomach unnerved Ace. “Yeah, I'll see you guys tomorrow.” He forced a smile to crack on his features before silently following the group outside and parting ways with a wave of hands.

As his body neared home, every muscle dragging Ace in an aching manner made him aware of the truth. He was physically tired. Thankfully that wasn't a lie. But that didn't guarantee that the exhaustion would travel to his brain and shift him to sleep like alcohol would. Once the habit was settled, there was no getting out of it quick and easy. As such, with the brisk night air pricking his skin, his thoughts, while reenacting the events of practice, made Ace take a mental note to pick up more of the bittersweet substance after dropping off his guitar at home. The last memories of your times together were still too fresh for him to analyze them radically.

Having finally reached the floor of his apartment, Ace momentarily froze.

Shit.

He considered turning back. Pretending he saw nothing. Maybe even crash at one of his brother's place under the excuse that it has been a while since they met. Even crazier, go back to the orphanage in which he grew. Anywhere. Anywhere would do.

But he had spent too long considering his options because your eyes turned to fix him with a blank look. Running away now would only add oil to the fire. However his heart could not permit him to fumble twice in less than 24 hours. But it was far too soon for you to show up. Far too soon for the shrouding feelings that swelled inside Ace to have cooled down.

His brain hurled profanities, while his legs headed towards the door in a slower way, his face trying to remain calm as he eyed you crouching by his door. Meanwhile his mind was completely panicking. Trying to pinpoint the reason behind your presence. Almost choking him by entertaining the thought that a breakup would follow. God this was awful. A bitter taste settled in his throat while time stretched into eternity.

As the distance closed, Ace watched you stand up, your body language bare from any sort of emotions when his feet stopped inches away from you. The fire of yesterday shouldn't have extinguished in you yet. Maybe you were here to pick a fight in turn. What a poor consolation these reflections were. He remained silent, unsure of the correct approach to take and hoped you would voice your reason for being here.

“You're back early today. Did you skip the after practice hangout?” You asked with genuine curiosity.

Ace couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes. “Yeah well, things happen.” He shrugged. Frankly it annoyed him — that you were making small talk after deciding to show up unprompted and how he wasn't ready to deal with you just yet. He had never expected you to come for him when it should have been the other way around and now he wished you'd get to the point before his temper got the best of him again.

“Is it okay for me to come inside?” You pointed a finger towards the door.

“Of course,” Ace brought out the keys from his pocket, tinkering them inside the lock. Best have a talk inside than out for the whole world to hear. Plus with you inside, it would overwrite the self isolating scenario that would've happened otherwise.

An increase of heartbeat found itself ringing in Ace's chest. While he deposited the keys. While he put down his guitar. While he ran a hand through his hair. While he sat down on the couch. While he watched you stubbornly stand across the room, refusing to sit. Everything made him and his poor heart uneasy. Terrified. Palms sweating. Eyes unable to do nothing but fixate on the ground.

The reality was that he should have given you an apology the moment he saw you. Begged for forgiveness even. It might have been enough to salvage the situation. It might have prevented this thick tension from staining the air of his home. And because he hadn't spared you a single thought throughout the day, he wasn't ready. Now with his skin growing hot with the passage of time, he sat awaiting for your judgment to come.

“What's wrong?” Your words, softly spoken, carried over while you eyed Ace.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed, and finally after getting inside he looked at you.

“I'm asking you what's wrong,” you began. But as the confusion remained you further added, “you were right to say that I can't understand all you're dealing with since I'm no artist. But I think there's more here than simple frustration over a rejection. Speak to me not as a musician but as a person.”

Ace parted his lips as if to say something, but quickly shut them. It felt too anticlimactic. And he wasn't going to jump on the opportunity to make amends without addressing the elephant in the room. “Do you have nothing to say about yesterday?” His gaze found the floor again in guilt.

You sighed. “Not particularly. I just came at the wrong time,” you admitted. Truth be told, your entire being had grown soft towards Ace, almost like a sponge that would absorb all of his ugly and release it through your personal methods for the sake of your sanity. You loved him enough to make a sacrifice. The tears. The pain. The misery. All were temporary. But the happiness. The laughter. The warmth. It was enough to overwrite the bad and fuel your down bad passion for this man. Even while being aware that the whole thing felt like the thorns of a rose.

“Don't give me that crap,” Ace raised his tone in annoyance. “I owe you an apology,” he mumbled sourly, clenching his now intertwined fingers, unable to face you still.

“And you think you can give one in this state?” You asked with an arched eyebrow.

God did Ace hate being sober.

“But if you want to talk about yesterday then fine. Why did you say those words to me? Why did you push me away? Why did you treat me that way?!” Your voice grew in melancholy with each sentence bringing back the ache of another day.

Ace racked his hair once more with a hand, according occasional glances at you. Your tone ripped at his heart even though he was the one that brought forth the conversation. “Because I was drunk,” he whispered in shame, cheeks reddening in self awareness.

“What?” You scoffed, baffled.

“Because I was drunk okay!” he raised his voice along accusatory eyes in your direction at the sound of your bewilderment before regretting it through a sigh. “Look I'm sorry.” He said in a softer tone.

You crossed your arms, “that's just your excuse!”

“Then what do you want me to say?!” Ace's voice threatened to reach the roof. To him, this was his reason. His truth. And to see you blatantly deny it proved quite painful. Almost unfair.

“Alcohol is a bridge between your pent up emotions and your mind. So I want you to be honest with me,” you paced the room, closing the distance that fermented the argument.

With you standing so close, Ace found his sight robbed of the ground and instead directed an annoyed look to your face. “What the fuck are you talking about?!” Truly he had no idea. All he wished was for you to accept his apology and move on. But now that you were the one who ambushed him, holding the reins of the conversation it made the struggle quite difficult. It unsettled his mind, leaving him feeling vulnerable. Being sober didn't help either.

“I'll ask you again. What's wrong?” One of your hands, ignoring his temper, slowly went on to stroke Ace's cheek, exchanging warmth as a reminder of the affection that existed between you two, before parting ways while your eyes egged him to answer. Yesterday had made you realize how deep Ace had fallen. How far gone he was. How unaware he remained. Therefore you weren't about to allow him to slip further without trying to catch him. Even if it meant drowning with him.

Blaming him would be too cruel.

Blaming the alcohol would be too immature.

Ace took in a deep breath, having calmed down at your touch. “I don't know. I can't understand what is happening to me,” his lips trembled, “so how can I explain it to you when I can't rationalize it for myself,” his voice cracked while his nose sniffled. The burning sensation that scratched at his eyes mixed with the prickle of his throat made Ace take notice of his first words of truth. How he had laid bare a reality he ignored for far too long. Rather than making him feel relieved however, it made his muscles tense, his heart palpitate in an uneasy fashion and his mind to grow apprehensive towards the future. A part of him wanted to blame you for bringing forth this side of him. However, his thoughts were far too agitated to fight back against your ruling of the conversation.

“That's okay,” you wrapped your arms around his neck in an embrace, pulling him close until his head nestled in your stomach while he remained sitting. “That's all I wanted to hear. You did well telling me that,” your hand stroked his hair in an affectionate way, “let's figure things out together from now on, okay?”

Ace nodded while raising his arm to circle you in turn. “I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry,” he whimpered.

“I forgive you.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece angst #ace fanfic #ace fanfiction #ace angst #one piece ace #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #ace x you #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace fanfic #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace angst #one piece x reader #one piece x you

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moonsaver · 3 months

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thinking about how Sunday would 100% use the dreamscape to brainwash you. any thoughts on that?

Definitely, but i imagine originally its something more similar to inter-dimensional gaslighting.

It takes 2 routes.

The first one, total brainwashing..

I'm not completely sure, but it's plausible.

I imagine he uses the feverish symptoms of the memoria to disorient and distort your memories and perception, mainly for his advantage. Some of these symptoms are long-lasting, so most of the time you're delirious, and just have to rely on Sunday to guide you through everything, similar to one of my recent Sunday in the real dreamscape posts.

At some point, you just don't realise how friendly he's become. The hand that originally guided you with a gentle grip on your shoulder now rests snugly on the curve of your waist, his voice reverberating through your ear as he leans in far too close for comfort, the feathers of his wings ticking your skin. He manages to completely convince you, step by step, inch by inch, that he's your lover, and perhaps the memoria is "affecting your memory again". Literally gaslights you into believing you have dementia or something.

Another is the gaslighting.

If you seem to be assimilating well into the dreamscape, exploring every nook and cranny, practically blowing through your budget as you meet with friends and family and other new strangers you meet along the way as you check out every pitstop, it would be easier for Yan!Sunday to just.. gaslight you into thinking it's reality.

I imagine originally its Sunday taking the initiative to remind you to "wake up". At some points, he starts "forgetting" or "delaying" those reminders. During this phase, he'd make sure there's so much comfort and joy in your dreams to the point you forget you even have to return. He would probably make some secretive accommodations for you, disguised as well-intentioned "resting areas" that are slowly filled with things for your daily use over a course of time. Later on, he just.. stops. He doesn't remind you at all to wake up. If you insist, he tells you the mechanism is a bit "different" now, that maybe you'll have trouble, or you'll be unable to wake up completely, but not to worry. He has everything under control. In reality, most of the functions that enabled you to return are completely, almost permanently shut off.

If it's necessary, he would probably go the extra mile to add in simulations of "texting" your friends whenever they return to "reality", which he ends up flipping as "the dreamscape". At some point, he'll just tell you that you can't enter the dreamscape where your friends are, and you have to wait for them to return, as if your body hasn't been practically simmering in the dream fluid for who knows how long in the Reverie, your friends and family worrying at your disappearance. Again, if necessary, he might as well just make superficial clones of your friends and family to occasionally accompany you instead of their presence. You'll forget you're even in the dreamscape, and carry on believing you can't get yourself to "dream".

If he uses a mix of these both, I imagine the brainwashing comes first, then the gaslighting.

Protesting is out of the question – he's so thoroughly meticulous and well-hidden that it hardly crosses your radar that something's up. By the time you realize, you're probably isolated from everyone and everything.

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr x you #yandere hsr x reader #yandere sunday x you #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #yandere hsr sunday #yandere hsr

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months

Text

Cod Men with a Monster!Reader (PT. 2)

Requested: No

Warnings: ✨Spice✨, Somnophilia, Human Consumption, some traditionally Female monsters but I wrote them GN

Alex - Naiad

Alex was on a mission in the heart of a deep and dense forest when he found you, having gotten separated from his team and left stumbling through foliage and low hanging tree branches. And then he found you. You were naked and splashing around in a river that was so clear that he could see everything. You seemed to be oblivious to his presence, your humming mixing with the sound of rushing water as you moved around.

Then you turned to him, and he was liked that your eyes completely white, ears slightly pointed at the ends, a faint shimmer like glitter on your cheeks. You stared at him and he stared back, entranced by your gaze and your beauty.

And then you beckoned him closer, and it felt like his whole brain just shut off, barely even taking the time to strip himself of his gear before he was wading through the surprisingly tall water just to get to you, watching you coyly swim backwards, a mischievous grin on your face.

It would take him a moment to catch you and when he did, it was only because you let him. Let him haul you into his arms and breathe against your face,let him run his hands over your body, cup your face and kiss you so sweetly that it could make someone cry. But all it did to you was make you hum, soft and pleased against his lips, letting him drag you to shore and invade your body, all while scraping sharpened nails down his chest and back, marking him for all the nymphs that surrounded your river to see.

Your human now. You weren’t letting him go back to his people anytime soon.

Alejandro - Succubi

Bad dreams were frequent for Alejandro. And if he wasn’t having them, then he got nothing. It was disappointing but he couldn’t escape into a more peaceful reality, even for just a few short moments, but such was his life. That was, until he started having those dreams.

At first he dismissed them as a fluke, a one in a million. It had been so long since he had had a wet dream that he was sure he wasn’t going to have it again.

But then it came again.

Dreams of you, someone he had never even met, under him. Splayed open and whining, clutching at him, calling for him, begging for him. It went straight to his cock, leaving him aching and dripping, covered in his own cum when he’d shoot up in bed in the morning. He didn’t understand.

It was affecting his day to day life too. He was more tired and that was affecting his attitude. He became more snappish, stricter, crueler almost. And there was this feeling on his chest, like someone was nuzzling against him all the time. And when he laid down it felt like he was being crush by something.

But today he was determined to get his rest, taking two of the sleeping pills his doctor had prescribed him (even though the bottle said only one), and curled in on himself like a baby, trying to ignore that feeling in his chest as he drifted to sleep.

Only he dreamt again. But this time it was different. He could tell he was more awake this time as he pounded into you from behind, bullying his cock into your entrance as you cried and writhed, trying to fuck yourself back against him, calling his name. Alejandro. Alejandro. Like it was some sort of prayer for safety as the room around you crumbled, revealing the truth to his eyes as he awakened.

You, speared open on his cock, wide eyed and clearly shocked at seeing him awake. He was certainly surprised as well. Of all the things that he expected, this was not one of them. He would have liked to pretend that you were some pervert, some lunatic that broke into his room, but your horns and tail were a dead giveaway that this was not anything of the normal variety. Especially with how your tail kept rubbing against his leg like some sort of needy pet.

He flips you under him, smirking at your squeak as he starts rolling his hips, watching you go cock dumb for him as he uses your body to his liking, determined to pay you back for all the sleepless nights that you had caused him. It was only fair after all.

Horangi - Kumiho

His things were going missing. And when they weren’t going missing, they were being moved. It was Horangi’s only clue that something was different than usual. It felt like someone was constantly shifting the world just a little bit to the left every time he turned his back or did so much as blink. It was the most annoying experience he had ever had the displeasure of enduring.

Everyone was subject to his wrath while this was happening, even his superiors. Demanding to know who was playing these “pranks” on him and why they would do such a thing. Everyone vehemently denied having any part in what he was saying but it did little to deter Horangi from interrogating each and every one of them to no avail. Eventually he got sent home to calm the fuck down while his superiors investigated.

But when he went home and found that these same events were still happening, he knew something was off. No way any of his teammates had managed to sneak home with him, let alone stay hidden. This was his home, he knew every nook and cranny of this base, down to its very foundation. If anyone was here, anyone human, he’d know.

Cue a ransacking of his own home, throwing around clothes and knick knacks to get to any sort of hiding spot in his home, checking every possible entrance and exit, a man gone mad in an attempt to find someone that wasn’t actually there.

Or so he thought, until he felt something hard drop onto his head and bounce onto the floor beside his feet. He looked down, looking at the shimmering and glowing marble by his feet, bending down to carefully pick it up. He….was sure that he didn’t own anything like this.

Something brushed against the back of his neck when he stood back up and he immediately whipped around to face it, surprised to come face to face with a….was that a tail? It was definitely a tail. A tail that was connected to a human being when he looked up slowly, your eyes wide at getting caught red handed, all nine of your tails fluffed up in panic.

Well….that explained that at least.

Keegan - Ghoul

Keegan was visiting the graveyard when he met you, flowers in hand for the mother he barely remembered at this point, just another loss that ached in his chest. He was late today, so late that the stars were shining in the sky and he needed a flashlight to see anything. The graveyard was technically closed but it was easy to hop the fence, even with a bouquet and a flashlight in his hands. He made a note that he should talk to the owner about upping security.

The walk was short to his mother’s grave but to him it felt like an eternity, especially when he kept hearing the rustling of bushes and twigs snapping, likely some sort of rabbit or deer but he was still on guard from all his time in the military.

Only, as he grew closer, he realized that he could hear a different cracking sound, something he couldn’t quite place, especially when the sound of slurping followed it. It became all the more clearer when he was but a few feet from the grave he planned to visit, a giant mound of dirt laying on top of it while there was a hole in the one beside it.

He peered slowly into the hole, shining his flashlight down and seeing….a person. You. An arm in your hand that you were ferociously tearing at with your teeth, mouth covered and dripping with blood. So busy with your feast that it took a minute before you realized that you were being watched. You turned your head slowly, following the light up to see him just….standing there.

He was in shock, especially now that he could see your dagger-like teeth. And then you were hissing and he was reminded of an alley cat he had cornered once as a small child, wanting to pet it. It had not gone well then, and it would surely not go well now. He slowly backed away but stayed close by, watching you carefully crawl out of your hole, arm tight in your jaw’s grip, watching him warily as you start to shovel the dirt back into the hole.

You watched him, he watched you.

And then you scampered off, startling him with your sudden movement. He could do nothing but stare dumbly at the direction you had run in, wondering what exactly you were.

And how he could encounter you again.

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starlightsalvatore · 1 year

Text

salvation / klaus mikaelson x reader

heyooo - dabbling with a klaus fic hehe - should I do a part two for what they get up to after this? lmk!! and as always lmk what you think :) writing for the vampire diaries is very new to me so any feedback is appreciated!

salvation / klaus mikaelson x reader

summary: after a deadly encounter with a werewolf, an old ‘friend’ comes to your rescue

word count: 1.3k (short and sweet!)

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of death, typical tvdu stuff

You shivered as Damon wrapped his blankets around you, gently sitting beside you as he held a blood bag up to your lips, which you accepted gratefully and sucked down rather feverishly. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, those intense blue eyes swimming with more emotion than you’d ever seen.

You softly shook your head, “the only thing you can do for me is to stop looking at me like that,” you whispered and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Alright, Miss Conceited, I’m not looking at you like anything,” he teased and you chuckled though it was immediately followed by a wince as pain reverberated through every nerve ending. “You should get some rest, okay? I’ll come check on you in a little bit.” You nodded as he left, letting out an exhale when you were finally alone for the first time since it all happened. You were putting on a brave face for everyone else, assuring Elena you were going to be okay and making her promise she wouldn’t come by the house for her own safety and you’d kept your goodbyes brief, joking throughout… saying things like it’s a miracle I haven’t died sooner, don’t look so sad, but in reality you were terrified. You weren’t ready, your life felt so... unfinished. You hadn’t truly loved anyone yet or even been loved, things were far too chaotic to even think about having a love life. The furthest you’d ever been from Mystic Falls was a family road trip to Texas for a reunion your parents dragged you to just before they both died.

Your dreams felt muddled, a mix of childhood memories and moments with your friends when shit wasn’t hitting the fan… it genuinely felt like your life was flashing before your eyes as you slept and you awoke suddenly unrested and straining to hear a voice on the other side of the door. “You know, one voicemail works just as well as a dozen.” It couldn’t be.

“No…” you muttered as the door opened, shifting to sit upright but failing as you grunted in pain, watching the blonde man slowly walk towards you and settle beside you. “No, this isn’t real, this is a hallucination.”

“I’m afraid I’m very real,” he replied, accent thick as he looked down at you and you poked his arm, stunned to find it wasn’t an apparition.

“Nope, this is- this is Stefan, or Damon and my brain is just playing some really evil twisted joke on me,” you coughed out.

“I’m offended, love. I’ve traveled all this way just to see you and you liken me to the Salvatore brothers,” he said and you blinked a few times as you accepted he really was here. “Playing with werewolves, are we?” he asked, fingers delicately brushing your shirt aside to reveal the mark just above your collarbone.

“Thought it was a golden retriever,” you rasped and he chuckled.

“Your friends downstairs were very adamant in my coming to save you,” he said and you smiled softly.

“Is that what you’re here to do, Klaus? Or are you going to dangle salvation in front of me before making a ridiculous demand?” you asked and he smirked. He always found you amusing, if not annoying at times, there was a point in which you had him completely wrapped around your finger… something you exploited to the benefit of you and your friends whenever it suited you. And he let you, time and time again, because the moments in which you’d allow him to be within your orbit, or accept the countless gifts he left at your doorstep gave him a glimmer of hope that one day you’d let him give you more. He wanted to show you the world, but you’d extinguished any of that hope he’d had by slamming the door in his face the last time you saw each other.

“I’m here to save your life if you’ll let me,” he answered and you almost rolled your eyes.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, love. I’m just here out of the kindness of my heart,” he said and now you did roll your eyes.

“Come on, Klaus. I know you better than that. There’s no such thing as the kindness of your heart because it’s cold and dead,” you shot back. “What do you want?” Your tenacity with him was always the most intriguing, you challenged him… made him want to be better but unfortunately with you it seemed there was nothing he could do to win you over.

“Perhaps I do want something, the question is if your life is worth obliging my simple request?” he proposed.

“Please do drag this out further, it’s not like I’m on a clock here,” you coughed out.

“I want you to take me up on my previous offer… in exchange my blood is as good as yours,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“My answer is the same as it was then.”

“I’m afraid there’s no door for you to slam in my face, love. Would you really rather die than allow me the honor of showing you the world?” he asked and you didn’t miss the way hurt seeped into his tone, though he was trying his best to hide it.

“Yes,” you answered, voice wavering.

“Perhaps I should let you suffer, consider it a delayed punishment for your continual disrespect,” he said and you chuckled.

“Then go ahead, Klaus. Doors over there,” you said, wincing as you shifted your position. “You never had any intention of saving my life,” you accused and now the hurt was clear as day on his face.

“Do you really think so low of me?” he asked and you shook your head.

“I don’t think of you at all.” you answered, hoping he wouldn’t see right through you.

“If that’s what you’d like,” he responded and as he stood to leave you’d never been more unsure, questioning if this was the right way to play it. Just as he reached the door frame you doubled over in a coughing fit, leaning over the side of the bed as blood dribbled from your mouth and he felt physical pain at the sight. He was back by your side in an instant, tugging you into him and placing his arm in front of you. “Drink, please.” You looked up at him through your lashes, but he just nodded, eyes pleading with you and you let your fangs sink into the skin of his wrist. With each gulp you felt your energy restore and the pain disappear. As you drank he brushed your shirt aside again to watch the wound heal for himself.

You pulled away but didn’t make any move to leave his lap, allowing him to keep his arms around you for a moment… but just a moment before you leaned back, “three months.” you said suddenly and you saw an emotion you’d never really seen from him… confusion.

“What?” he asked and you smirked.

“You had your terms, I’m negotiating,” you answered and you watched realization settle across his features.

“What changed your mind?” He couldn’t stop his smile from spreading into a grin.

“I was bluffing,” you said and his grin faltered. “Yet, you still gave me your blood without forcing me to comply… maybe that heart of yours isn’t as cold and dead as I thought.”

“I thought you didn’t think of me?” he asked and you shrugged.

“Maybe I do. You get three months, no more no less… that’s the deal,” you said, sticking your hand out for him to shake and when he grasped it he yanked you a little closer.

“Once we get started you’ll be begging me for more time,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, that’s up to you to prove it worth my time… but that’s all I’m promising.”

“That’s all I need, love.”

taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood (if you only meant to be tagged in my damon fics please let me know and I’ll adjust which taglist you’re on!)

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fan fiction #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus #klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus fanfiction #klaus fan fiction #klaus fluff #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fan fiction

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stellari-s · 6 days

Note

Omfg ithaqua centric tumblrs exist/j

I don't know I'd your still doing requests but can I request ithaqua with a reader who's rlly sweet and nice and everything, but the manor did like a swap with the survivors and hunters so that the hunters are the ones that run from the survivors and when Reader is picked they go NUTS. Like everyone's out and injured in like 2 minutes. After the event reader goes back to normal but if people look closely, Reader's picked up a bit of a hunger for blood sometimes...

✨

haha, ikr, and gosh, i’m really slow, i hope you’ll forgive me! but i will try my best with your request! i don’t end up describing the details of the match much rather than implying what happened, so i hope that’s ok.

request; yes, by anon! requests are currently closed, but my commissions are open if you’re interested.

wc; 945.

tags; default! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader (who becomes hunter), reader treats ithaqua’s injuries.

summary; miss nightingale had come with a sudden announcement — survivors and hunters were going to switch places! and so, you are put into a match with ithaqua as the last one standing…

this very day was like a fever dream — but would it be a dream if one could see a subtle, yet irreversible change?

“a switch?”

ithaqua stayed silent, but he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. though he said little, his feelings reflected that of everyone else’s in the room where miss nightingale had gathered all the hunters on a whim to make the very announcement of a role switch. he honestly harbored mixed feelings on the prospect of being the one chased, rather than the one doing the chasing, but more than that...

he thought back to a certain face among the survivors. a seemingly innocent face, whose kindness knew no bounds. would they be up for the task, he wondered?

robbie’s enthusiastic voice dragged ithaqua from his thoughts back into reality.

“oh oh, does this mean we get to play something like reverse tag?”

“seems like it,” ithaqua muttered in reply.

miss nightingale nodded once everyone had settled down (or, displayed some semblance of having settled down). “i’m glad we are on the same page. gather in lakeside in one hour if you are called upon, and take care not to be late.”

when miss nightingale left, murmurs immediately broke out among the hunters.

...there really is something off with her. i don’t like it.

nonetheless, ithaqua had no right to refuse; he could only sigh and wait for an hour to pass.

“survivors will become the hunters?”

this was news to you. what in the world could have brought on this change in the manor owner’s heart?

...not that you could really understand him. in fact, many things in the manor had been intriguing.

little things piqued your interest, and whispered rumors became a source of curiosity.

“i’m not sure i feel comfortable facing against hunters... as a hunter,” helena said, “wouldn’t you agree, (y/n)?”

“hm?” you looked at helena, who had a resigned smile on her lips.

i suppose it would be difficult for her, considering she can’t see. then again, she has a cane, so maybe she’s fine, and her personality is just too kind?

some survivors were fit to be a hunter, but helena was not one of them. it wasn’t a bad thing; it simply wasn’t her strength.

you flashed her a gentle smile of your own. “it is definitely a sudden development. i can understand the difficulty in processing it.”

you neither confirmed nor denied it.

—— 20 minutes later.

there was only one hunter left now: ithaqua.

you had noticed this in previous matches against him when he was hunter, but even with those stilts that looked so easy to trip in, ithaqua was very quick on his feet. there was clearly a lot of skill in maneuvering around with those.

you would spot him, and you would chase after him, only for him to slip between your fingers like locks of hair.

while his appearance resembled that of a supernatural creature to be feared, you found through spending time with him outside of matches that he was not a bad person. in fact, he was quite nice behind that colder facade.

if it were other survivors, they would probably be more cautious around ithaqua.

finally, you caught up to him in the small boat in lakeside village. “you’re the only one left standing, ithaqua,” you said, “yet you won’t surrender. do you think two hours will pass before i can catch you?”

ithaqua chuckled. “i’ll take your words as a compliment.”

“as they are meant to be. but i think two hours is quite a long time, so will you allow me to catch you before then?”

“if you’re going to catch me, do it with your own abilities.”

you shrugged, a resigned smile playing on your lips. “i suppose it can’t be helped then.”

it turned out you didn’t need him to “allow” you.

after the match, which had lasted around half an hour total, ithaqua hissed a little in pain as you wrapped the bandage around his arm, where he had cut himself.

“would it hurt to be a little more gentle treating my wound?”

“oh, don’t you know? it’s better to wrap the gauze more tightly. i do sincerely apologize for the... slightly rough handling toward the end of the match though. so please just think of this as repayment.”

ithaqua fell silent. this was one of the rare times he had his mask off, so you could see his eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed, and his lips pursed as he averted his pale blue eyes.

“what’s wrong?” you waved a hand in front of him.

“i don’t know. but is it just me or do you just look... a little different?”

“hm?”

he turned to look at you for a brief moment before retracting his arm. “it’s nothing. thanks for treating my arm.”

ithaqua stood up and tried to walk out of the room, but you called after him as his hand made contact with the knob.

“hey, ithaqua.”

he stood in frozen in place like a statue, as if contemplating whether or not he should turn out. in the end, he stayed still as he replied, “what?”

though he wouldn’t be able to see it, you flashed a smile his way.

“i look forward to the next match.”

you could have sworn you saw his shoulders twitch slightly upon hearing your words. he then turned around (to your surprise) and, with a sharp tone, shouted “well i don’t!” before shutting the door behind him.

you couldn’t help but let out a lighthearted laugh — he kind of reminded you of a cat.

a cat surely worth chasing, you reckoned.

#divider by cafekitsune #identity v #idv #id5 #第五人格 #idv ithaqua #identity v ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v night watch #id5 ithaqua #夜の番人 #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v fanfic #idv fanfic #idv fic #ithaqua x reader #idv hunter #gn reader

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ladykibutsuji · 1 year

Text

"A Dream To Reality"

☆ MUZAN X READER ☆

GENRE: ANGST

I don't own the pictures used, a friend suggested it to me.

Do you know the difference between a dream and reality?

Because it appears, you do not.

The Air was cold, it was quiet and all that could be heard is the sounds of chemicals being combined together and a pen writing on a piece of paper.

You are currently sitting in one of muzan's table while waiting for him to finish his new experiment.

You were getting bored of just watching him mix chemicals one after another while writing on his book so you decided to start a conversation with the Demon King.

"Are you almost done?" You asked while fidgeting your Soft H/C. "Patience my dear." He responded. The man didn't even turn to look at your direction since he was too busy writing something on his book.

You let out a loud yawn while you rested your chin on your hands.

"fuck." Muzan muttered, he tossed aside his failed chemical experiments making them shattered onto the cold ground.

You noticed how upset he was so you got up from your seating position and walked towards his back to give him a backhug

Muzan calmed down when he felt your arms wrapped around his waist, You are the peace in his war.

You slowly loosen your arms around him as he turned around to look at you giving you a headpat and a warm smile.

When his body was fully facing towards your own, he grabbed your chin and brought his face closer to yours.

"You must be perfection itself"

He then pulled you for a deep kiss to which you accepted and returned, You could feel his soft lips smile against yours.

Once he pulled away from the kiss he gave you a teasing smirk and you were hoping he would give you a kiss you again because you couldn't get enough of his soft lips. He then let go of your chin to grab a flower known to be the 'red spider lily' from his table

after that he tucked in some of your hair behind your ears and putted the red spider lily in your gorgeous H/C.

You smiled at his gesture and gently placed your fingers on the red spider lily on the top of your ears, you were giggling like an idiot and Muzan was chuckling at your expression

"Thank you muzan! You know that I love you right?" You expressed while still gently playing with the flower on your hair.

"I wish I could say the same thing." He said as he turned to look away from you, once again writing on his book.

You were about to say something until he interrupted you "I'm not real."

You were about to protest but then again what can you say to deny his statement? After all what he just stated was the 'Truth'. He is not real

"Be a real person or not, my love for you is genuine and nothing in the whole universe could ever change that!" You replied while muzan was still looking away from you not even saying anything and he was still writing on his book.

You got a bit embarrassed by how he completely ignored you, "Are you listening?"

Muzan didn't replied for a few more seconds until he finally broke the silence "Hm? I didn't quite heard what you said earlier do you mind repeating it and saying it loud and clear so I can hear it?"

You got annoyed by his attitude, you know that he was just toying with you right now. But again this man is muzan kibutsuji so of course he will make you do the most random shits.

You took took a deep breath and exhaled 'Saying goodbye to your pride'

"Muzan Kibutsuji, Be real or not My love for you remains real and pure!"

You quickly dropped onto the floor and hugged your legs, burying your face onto your knees.

Goddamn your pride was destroyed

You couldn't exactly see muzan but you could feel him smirking at what you just said out loud a few seconds prior.

He then stopped writing and placed his book down on his table and he walked towards you and kneeled Infront of you.

"You are cute when you are embarrassed" He teasingly said, you still refused to look at him out of embarrassment and he noticed this making him chuckle.

"Look at me Y/N." He demanded, you hugged your legs tighter burying your face more onto your knees.

"I'll get you food if you look at me", Okay now he won, You are such a sucker for foods and he knows it.

You slowly look up at him and he gave you a playful grin "Oh?~ Aren't you easy to fool?"

"Shut up" You responded, he then put one of his hands on your cheeks gently caressing it while his other hand was holding one of your hands.

"Just like you, My love for you will always be genuine and real even if I am not real."

He paused putting his forehead against yours

"We don't live in the same universe but I do hope that the afterlife will favor us Though I do doubt it since I'm a demon..I'm immortal but it's okay to dream isn't It? I do hope that someday a miracle will happen and we will be brought to each other."

He gave you a smile and you gave him a small smile, You suddenly felt tears forming into your eyes and was saddened by realizing that all of this is just a mere dream

"I promise, I'll find you no matter what but for now...Wake up Y/N"

RING RING

TIME: 10;00 AM

You were suddenly awakened by the clock ringing and as soon as you woke up you found yourself shedding tears.

"Why am I crying?" You asked yourself.

You sat down and gently wiped off the tears in your eyes.

You couldn't fully remember what you have dreamed of but you just shrugged it off thinking it was just another weird dream, You were thinking of chatting your friend to hangout with them since it was the weekend anyways.

You were about to grab your phone just beside your bed until you noticed something next to your belonging

A red flower?

You grabbed both the flower and your phone, Trying to remember where the flower came from since You remembered locking your door and windows so it was impossible for someone else to get in

The flower was beautiful so you decided to tuck it behind your ears.

"Does it perfectly suits me?"

• FUN FACT About Muzan: He likes imported goods and his hobby is studying foreign language (STATED ON DEMON SLAYER FANBOOK)

• Should I turn this to a Isekai series?

RECOMMENDED SONG FOR THE DAY!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #fanfiction #demon slayer angst #demon slayer muzan #lord muzan #muzan x reader #Spotify

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

Note

I apologize if this was requested already after reading last night's chapter i got inspired innocence kink + breeding kink + daddy kink jewelry fetish + cum play + slight degradation + overstimulation + hand kink + exhibitionist i don't know about the daddy kink but i'm down with professor nylander

Oh, I’ve missed Professor Nylander 🫦💦 he’s such a good one to work on when you’re in need of something extra naughty and filthy 😈 😏

And babe, I don’t think anyone has ever requested all of this (at least not at the same time 😉) but it did give me a lot to work with 😊🤍 Though I did forget about the breeding kink... my apologies!

Still hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (m receiving); fingering; unprocted sex (p in v); dom/sub (ish); basically everything in the request ⬆️

Word count; 5.6K

[Prof!Willy x reader]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Please, excuse me I don't mean to be rude… But tonight I'm fuckin' you I William Nylander [AU] 🖋️⚡️💦

You just couldn't stop staring. The way his arm moved, his strong hand gripping the pen as he wrote on the board in the lecture hall had you completely captivated.

You were in your usual spot for Professor Nylander's class, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

It had been a few weeks since you'd had that little chat on the sofa, and though you hadn't talked about labels or anything further, what you knew was: a) neither of you were sleeping with anyone else, b) he'd shown jealousy when Josh Adams tried to flirt with you, and c) you didn't appreciate Angie Turner's attempts to come onto him.

And d) even though it was all kinds of wrong, you found yourself falling deeper into your relationship with Professor William Nylander.

In your mind, he was the most attractive man alive, and there was no one else for you. No one could compare to him, so all you could think was that you needed to get through the final months and exams, and then you could be together.

Well, if William was up for it, of course. You weren't entirely sure what was going on in his head. Every time you crossed paths, he kept it neutral and calm but when it was just the two of you, he could rock your world for hours.

And William was definitely skilled when it came to sex. The way his mouth worked on your sweet little tight core, could make your head spin. It was like he used magic when he added his fingers to the mix, curling them to hit your most sensitive spot and send you into overdrive.

Moreover, his member was nothing to be embarrassed about either. William had confidence, and you knew exactly why. Not just from his physical training as a child and teenager, aiming to become a professional hockey player before an ankle injury ended that dream. But also, from his skilled... well, everything. He was creative, to say the least. And to top it all off, his member had that slight curve to the right, hitting just the right spot over and over again.

However, your relationship had also slowly become more romantic and tender. Though you couldn’t go on public dates for obvious reasons, he had treated you to dinner a few times now, enjoyed at his place. Sometimes on the couch in front of the telly, which may or may not lead to passionate snogging sessions. And sometimes at the dining table, a romantic setting that may or may not end in a passionate encounter on the surface.

Alright, needless to say, your relationship was filled with raw and mind-blowing sex.

And today was no different.

As you watched him intently during the lesson, you had to stop yourself from biting your lip. His suit looked particularly sharp today, fitting nicely around his bum, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed his strong arms. He'd opted for dark grey trousers and a semi-loose white shirt, and you couldn't help but imagine how you'd unbutton it later.

Shaking your head to snap back to reality, you cleared your throat and refocused. Yet, as always, you felt a little tempted to stir things up, maybe ensuring you'd definitely get some action later. So, you sent him a text.

"Can’t wait to have those hands on me 🫦 you’re turning me on just by writing"

It wasn't anything too wild, but you knew it would provoke a reaction from William, and you couldn't wait to see how he'd respond.

You didn't feel sorry about what you’d done during the lecture. At least, not at first.

After the call, William had naturally invited you to join him for dinner, but that evening's meal turned out to be more than just a serving of Italian takeaway.

First things first were that he’d asked you to dress nicely - which you knew in his world meant something that was easy to discard and could/should include a skirt of a sort. So naturally, you opted for another schoolgirl-like outfit; the “Hit me Baby one more time” era inspired look, just a tad more modern.

You wore socks just below the knee, a red checkered skirt, a white blouse (no time for buttons), and your long-curled locks styled in a half-up 'do with space buns, giving it a cute, innocent vibe.

And William was left speechless when he saw you. His jaw almost dropped as he looked at your outfit and your cute smile. Did he maybe have a bit of a daddy kink? Perhaps, but he didn’t mind. He knew you were a mature adult, taking responsibility for your own actions, and your relationship was consensual. He trusted that you would speak up if you weren’t comfortable with these kinds of intimate actions with him, so he didn’t dwell too much on whether it was right or wrong.

Moreover, you didn’t complain either. Your professor wasn’t just attractive, but he was attentive too, ensuring all your needs were met and prioritising you first - something guys your age weren’t always too concerned about.

So, after the delicious dinner where you’d playfully re-enacted a scene akin to the lady and the tramp with the spaghetti, you found yourself swiftly in his lap, straddling him - not exactly ladylike.

Your tongues intertwined as you shared a deep, hungry kiss, his hands resting on your buttocks while yours were tangled in his hair. It was passionate and messy, your fingers lightly pulling on his locks as his hands squeezed your cheeks.

The urge to let your hips rock against him was irresistible, your pulsating core pressing against his slowly hardening member. But William stopped you. Sensing his trousers becoming tighter around his crotch, he pulled back, allowing you both to catch your breath.

“I’ve got something for you…” he murmured, his hands still holding onto you firmly.

“Mmm... I can feel that,” you teasingly remarked, allowing yourself to rock a few more times.

“Not just that, babe,” he chuckled lightly, before gently moving you off his lap and walking to the desk to retrieve a small black box. Returning to the sofa and sitting next to you once more, he opened it.

Inside was a white-gold necklace with two charms: one bearing a W, and the other a locker.

You were taken aback. Had he actually bought you a gift? Did that mean you were more to him than just a sexual partner?

Suddenly, you realised you were holding your breath. Snapping back to reality, you let out a deep breath and flashed him a smile.

“Wow, Willy... it’s incredibly beautiful,” you spoke softly. “But you didn’t have to do that…” You tried to act as if this wasn’t the sweetest thing any man had ever done for you, but you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“I know... but I wanted to... since we can’t be officially together, at least I could show you that I wanted more than just... sex,” he admitted softly, offering you a mix of a smile and a smirk. “It doesn’t have to mean anything special; I just thought it looked nice, and you deserve to be treated like a princess.”

His words were incredibly sweet, and you couldn’t help but let the smile spread across your face.

“Oh, Willy, I love it,” you replied, sincerely looking into his eyes.

“Well, then turn around.”

And without hesitation, you did. Lifting your hair, you allowed William to gently place the slightly cold piece of jewellery around your neck, followed by his lips tenderly planting a few butterfly kisses behind your ear.

However sweet and romantic the moment was, there was an undeniable sense of sincere commitment hanging in the air, alongside a mutual longing for each other.

And as William gently nipped your earlobe, he then growled deeply. “Now… where were we?”

You couldn’t help but gulp lightly as his voice sent shivers down your spine, a slight tingling occurring between your legs.

Then, very slowly, William let his large hand gently wrap around your neck, his mouth moving to the opposite side as he spoke huskily once again. “So, you want to feel my hands on you? You want me to touch you?” He asked rhetorically, referring to your naughty text from earlier.

With another gulp, you carefully nodded under his grip, a soft ‘mmm’ confirming his questions.

“Good girl…” he softly muttered, his praise sending signals straight to your eager core. “Then go to the bed and wait for instructions.”

And again, without hesitation, you immediately complied. Rising from your seat as William released his hold, you made your way to the bed and stood waiting, just as he had instructed.

You stood with your back to him, facing the king-size bed, as you heard him unbuckling his belt. And as he kept you waiting for a few more minutes, you assumed he’d undressed completely - and you were right.

As he drew nearer to you, you felt his bare chest against your back, his hands freely roaming your curves as he breathed near your hair.

“Take off your clothes and bend over,” he ordered simply. But as you slowly removed your blouse and bra, he stopped you. “Keep the skirt and socks on.”

And naturally, you obeyed. And as you stood with your arse exposed to him, hands resting on the bed for support, you once again felt his hands on you, sliding beneath the fabric of your skirt to find your underwear. With a quick motion, he pulled them down, allowing you to step out of them.

You tried to maintain your composure, but despite controlling your breath, you couldn't help but gasp as his thick fingers traced up your folds.

“Mmm… so wet for me, baby girl…”

William was thoroughly pleased with what he found, and as he continued to explore your flesh with his fingers, he relished in the soft moans he elicited from your lips. Occasionally touching your clit gently, he knew he was making you feel good, yet he didn’t give you everything right away. You had to earn it. Instead, he slowly inserted two fingers past your entrance, effortlessly stretching you.

You were dripping for him. And as he moved his fingers in and out of your core, you felt the pleasurable sensation that only he could bring. The way he curled his fingers upwards just right had him hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. And your eager moans conveyed nothing else but how much you were enjoying it.

The sound of your wet pussy echoed through the room as William picked up the pace, his other hand supporting your lower back as he noticed your legs trembling slightly.

You had to shut your eyes as the stimulation intensified, a knot forming in your stomach and your mind entering a foggy state. You sensed an impending orgasm approaching, knowing it wouldn’t be long if he kept this speed.

And William gladly persisted. Taking pleasure in the sight before him as he observed how responsive you were to him, with moans and deep breaths escaping you with each thrust, he then intensified his movements. Fingering you vigorously, he was intent on bringing you to climax, and he knew your body intimately, giving him the confidence to know just how to push you over the edge.

As his fingering sent waves of pleasure through your body, your moans grew louder, your hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. You were so close. Incoherent breaths escaped you as William drove you towards ecstasy, and finally, you felt the climax nearing.

“Mmm… oh, Willy… I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered quietly. And as he maintained the intense speed, William let you reach your peak, causing you to bow your head, moan out his name in a sensual scream, before having to take in deep breaths to recover.

It took almost a minute for you to come down from the high, and as you suddenly felt the absence of his fingers withdrawing from your pussy, you heard him chuckle darkly behind you. “Done already? Oh, baby girl, we’re just getting started.”

With those words, you realised the night had only just begun.

And it didn’t take long before William firmly grasped you, pushed you down onto your knees, and tapped your lips, signalling you to open your mouth. The ease with which he could slide his hard length into your warmth, pressing it deeper into your throat as you skilfully took him, left him thoroughly satisfied.

You were talented, he had to give you that. Working his shaft with both your mouth and hand to please him. Breathing through your nose, you did your utmost to show him just how skilled you were, while coating his shaft with saliva as he guided your head. Then pulling back to catch your breath while still stroking him, before eagerly taking him back in.

“Mmm, you're so good to me,” William moaned softly as he leaned his head back slightly, relishing in the pleasure you were giving him. His hand gripped tightly onto your hair, and as he felt his climax approaching, he wanted to pull away, not wanting to finish just yet. But you were making him feel too good to stop.

Rocking his hips slightly against your movements, he let himself succumb to the impending release. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum…” he warned. And by the time you pulled away to catch your breath, he looked down at you with intense eyes, gripping his member firmly as he eagerly stroked it. “Stick out your tongue.”

Once again, you obeyed his command. Then, with a deep grunt and his eyes rolling back in his head, William released himself all over your mouth, chin, and cheek. He painted your face like a canvas, marking you as his own.

And as he slowly opened his eyes, coming down from the high, he admired his handiwork. While you remained in position, he gently ran his thumb over your lips, delicately playing with his own cum as he enjoyed the sight of you on your knees.

“My little cum slut…” he murmured as he smeared some of the stickiness onto your lips for you to taste.

“Mmm…” you hummed as you gently sucked his thumb, then licked your lips to savour more of him.

It was intensely arousing for him to watch, but he was still eager to feel himself inside your warmth. And being the gentleman he was, he allowed you a moment to wipe your face before pulling you onto the bed, pressing you down as he pinned your hands on either side of your head.

Your core was still tingling from the first orgasm, but William was also still hard, craving for more, so he didn’t give you any time to rest. With a forceful thrust, he easily slipped his cock into your cunt, and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips.

William fucked you deeply, almost reaching places you hadn't known existed, sending your mind spinning with pleasure.

And as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot, he couldn't help but grin at the loud, uninhibited moans he was eliciting from you, which only spurred him on to increase his thrusts.

His grip around your wrists tightened as he pounded into you, his length stimulating your walls with every thrust. It was almost overwhelming for you to handle. William was relentless. His self-control waned as your pussy felt so good wrapped around his cock, and his sole mission was to push you over the edge.

And he was succeeding. You could feel another orgasm building within you, your mind clouded as you were filled inside and stimulated in your core.

“Mmm, fuck, Willy… I’m gonna cum…” you whispered in a soft cry, your eyes rolling back as he pushed you closer.

“That’s it, cum for me, baby… show me what a good slut you are for me…”

And that was all it took for you to arch your back beneath him, your walls tightening around his member as you let the ecstasy take over once more. It was intense. His dominant demeanour was overwhelming, and as you embraced your role as his good girl, you simply tried to take him so well.

Then as you began to come down from the high, William admired you, revelling in how he could make you feel. Releasing your hands and sitting back, he couldn't help but gaze at the necklace he'd given you, a symbol of your relationship's deep connection, trust, and comfort.

However, the tender moment was short-lived as he withdrew his length, took a firm hold of you, and spun you around onto your hands and knees. Which was undoubtedly his favourite position. It gave him ultimate power to thrust deeply and vigorously, while also providing you with incredible sensations.

He then gave your cheek a firm spank, eliciting a little squeak from you before plunging back into your core.

“Shit…” you muttered as he swiftly increased his pace, once again stimulating you deeply with rapid and forceful thrusts, just as he knew you liked it.

But it was too much. His hips pounded harder and harder against your bum, surely leaving a reddened mark. And as his fingers dug into your hips, you felt your cunt dripping with juices, trailing down the inside of your thigh. You cried out loud with every thrust, feeling like nothing more than a piece of meat for his pleasure.

But it was all part of the role play. As your mind turned to mush, your vision blurred, and your fingers clenched the sheets, you allowed yourself to edge closer to another climax. The impending orgasm forming as William rapidly moved his cock in and out, overstimulating your walls.

“Willy… Mmm… I can’t…” you cried out as your body started to feel numb and spent from his vigorous fucking.

“What's that?” he spoke, still thrusting at the same intense speed. “Can't handle me, baby? Not being a good little slut for me?”

But you couldn't form a coherent response. Instead, you moaned and whimpered as he delivered another hard spank to your ass, leaving it a solid red hue. Then, he moved his hand to your neck once more, his other hand finding your lower abdomen as he firmly pulled you up and held you against his chest.

His pace slowed slightly in the new position, allowing you to catch your breath, yet his firm grip remained thrilling and dominant. And as he growled once more in your ear, you couldn’t help but gasp.

“Hmm… I know you're a good girl… my little princess,” his deep voice echoed in your ear, his hand maintaining a firm grip around your throat without restricting your airways. “Your cunt is made for me…” He then moved his hand slightly to touch the necklace... “And you belong to me… you’re mine.”

His words were like a spell as he spoke huskily. And with his cock deeply buried inside you, thrusting hard and deep, you couldn’t help but surrender to him once more.

“I’m yours…”

And as if those were the magic words, William pounded vigorously a few more times before allowing you to reach your final climax, your muscles tightening around him, causing him to release himself into you. He let out a deep grunt as he spilled his cum, painting your walls just as he had your face. Then, gently releasing his hold on you, he guided you back to support yourself on the mattress.

Your head hung low as you gasped for air, your mind still fuzzy as you slowly opened your eyes. Then you heard William chuckle darkly behind you as he slowly withdrew his cock and spread your cheeks apart.

“Mmm… show me how good of a cum slut you are…”

He watched your pussy intently, relishing the sight of his dripping cum from your core. Then, delicately, he used a finger to glide through your sensitive folds, eliciting another light gasp from you. He then picked up some of his fluids and traced it up your cheeks, over your butthole, and to your lower back.

The air hung heavy as you both needed to calm down and return to reality. And when William had finished playing with his cum and marking you as his own, he broke the comfortable silence.

“Come on, baby, I think you need a shower.”

It was an unspoken way of returning to the romantic relationship that had developed between you, away from the dom/sub role play. William's attentive and mature nature made him a wonderful and caring person, ensuring you didn't actually feel like a slut, despite the names he used during your most intense moments.

And as he held you close under the water, you felt nothing but comfort and solace in his embrace. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder something.

“So… the necklace, Willy,” you smoothly turned in his arms and gazed up at him. “Does that mean… we’re exclusive?”

Your voice almost trembled as you asked. You didn’t want to seem needy or anything of the sort, but you needed confirmation. And William simply smiled as he locked eyes with you, his thumb tracing over your lower lip as he considered how to articulate his response.

And with a gentle nod, he conveyed his thoughts. “Yes, baby… we’re exclusive.

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