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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

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Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More

Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero

In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy

8.4 k words

Buy Me a Coffee, Please?

Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them.

“Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend.

Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.

A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.

The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.

She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.

Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.

Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.

Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?

(Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm.

(Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?

(Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.

(Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips.

The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?

A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.

(Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity.

(Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.

Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her.

(Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.

“Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”

Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.

The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?

This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.

A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.

The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”

The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…

A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.

She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-

“Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”

The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.

“Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.

“Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“

The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.

“N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“

“I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“

“It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead.

Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak?

“Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”

The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

“Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.

Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…

The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?

Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.

It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.

The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face.

“You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”

The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…

Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.

Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.

It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.

Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.

“I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”

The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.

“(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“

The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.

“(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”

Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.

“(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?

The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.

‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’

Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.

Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.

Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?

Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.

Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.

“Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”

Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?

(Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.

“Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”

The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.

“You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

(Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?

(Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.

“My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

(Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?

“That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

“How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.

Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.

Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.

Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.

“Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.

“Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”

“Pardon?”

“How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”

(Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?

“Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.

“You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

“Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”

(Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?

(Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.

“Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her.

A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.

“Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held.

“Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.

With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.

“Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.

“(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile.

“That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.

The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.

“Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.

“She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”

The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.

(Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?

“What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”

“Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”

“Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”

(Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”

“I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”

(Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.

“Is the wine also to you liking?”

“It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food.

A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.

“Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”

“Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.

“Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.

“Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”

(Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form.

Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.

“Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“

“Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.

Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.

“You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.

How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?

The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?

Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her.

Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.

Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.

Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.

“I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”

“But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”

Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.

“The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“So won’t you love me more than him now?”

Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.

Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again.

“I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Welcome home, (your name).”

“Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?

Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?

Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face.

Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.

It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.

No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her.

Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed.

Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.

Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?

Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…

(Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?

(Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?

“Hello-“

The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.

The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…

“Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“

The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.

“Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“

The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.

What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?

“Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”

“Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.

(Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.

Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.

For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her.

A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.

“Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.

“Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”

(Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.

Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.

Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.

Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen.

How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time.

A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.

“Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”

(Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate.

She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate.

Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.

(Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.

Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?

(Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right.

As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker.

(Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.

(Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held.

The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.

What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?

Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.

She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.

With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her. The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.

“Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.

(Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…

It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?

(Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.

(Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.

“Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing.

(Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat.

But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.

“What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”

(Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.

“I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”

“What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.

“Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”

Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?

But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.

“I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“

“Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”

Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“

“I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“

“I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“

(Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?

“What-“

“Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”

(Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?

“See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world.

“Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”

“Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.

“You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“

“Dante, it’s okay-“

Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.

“I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“

“But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.

“You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”

“Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile.

“No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms.

“I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”

(Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.

“He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.”

What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?

Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.

Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something.

Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.

“Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard?

“You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”

“No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”

“In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”

Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.

“Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”

“You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.

“I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”

Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.

“What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”

Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”

Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“

A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.

“Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”

“Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred.

“I’ll see you there in a few years then.”

“I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“

Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up.

“Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.”

“But… heroes always-“

“Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”

Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.

“Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.

“What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”

Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”

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joels6string · 5 months

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home

RE4R Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Leon's home from Spain and the only thing he needs is a familiar face.

18+ only MDNI

content: a little hurt/comfort, established relationship, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, creampie word count: 3k

There were fewer things in life more pleasant than the feeling of a warm mug clutched against your palm, a thick, fuzzy blanket in your lap, and a book resting on your thighs. Your fingers are flicking at the corner of the page as you took in the words written so elegant yet simple on the page, transporting you to world’s beyond. It’s raining, and the brisk autumn air begins to nip when the sun sinks below the horizon, but you’ve been nestled totally content in your home since well before the light had begun to dwindle. Dinner was forgotten after a quick shower to scrub the day off your skin, the world so colorfully illustrated in black and white sucking you in too far for you even to feel the passage of time.

Heroes and heroines, love stories and daring rescues, it isn’t your usual genre, but after enough recommendations you’d decided to give it a try, swallowing your pride to admit the praise was well earned to your friends when they asked.

Knock knock

The sound of a fist slamming brutally against your door has your heart skipping as you squeak in shock, your eyes shooting to your clock to find it was nearing 1 AM, a time well beyond acceptable visiting hours. Another two bangs, and your spine goes rigid with fear.

“Are you home?” Even through the door, the sound of that slurred voice has your terror ebbing and annoyance flowing in its place. “Can you open the door? Please?”

Though you already know who it is, you peek through the small round glass, a mess of dirty blonde hair hunched against the doorframe greeting you. Muttering under your breath, you undo the chain, wrenching the door open hard enough to have none other than Leon S. Kennedy toppling over face-first at your feet.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you spit, your tone laced with so much venom even you feel its poison.

“Just needed to see you,” he practically whines, groaning against your cheap wooden floors.

“We’re not doing this, Leon. I told you, I’m done.”

“Please, Bug.”

“Don’t call me that.”

It’s almost embarrassing watching him try to stand, the thick arms that usually sweep you off your feet with ease barely able to push himself up, his face falling into your stomach as his foot gives way beneath him seconds after getting himself onto one knee. Instinct has you catching him from falling, and he wraps himself around you like a life raft, breathing in deeply as if he’s been trapped beneath the rolling tides and just found the surface. The desperation of it plucks at your pity chord, and your fingers thread into his hair and scrape against his scalp in the way you know he likes, soothing hushes falling from your lips as you cradle him close.

Your past with Leon is tumultuous, he is a man torn in two by the duties he’d sworn to uphold and the one thing that could convince him to give it all up and walk away. You’d met by accident, crossing paths with him at an event and leaving when his eyes as blue as a summer sky had consumed you completely. He was as sweet and playful as he was dark and deadly, and he’s careful to keep that latter side as far away from you as he could. And that quest had begun keeping him away for longer stretches, his ability to lock away the pain and anguish that plagued him beginning to fail.

Spain had been his last location, he’d told you before he left he’d be overseas for an undetermined amount of time. It had been months. After weeks of checking reports and news articles to see if Officer Leon Kennedy had been killed daily, you’d given up. The thought that maybe he’d lied had passed through your mind, maybe it was his way of finally cutting whatever co-dependent cord that attached you to each other. Someone had to be brave and strong enough to do it, and you were certain that couldn’t be you. But here he is, drunk off his ass and clinging to you with every ounce of strength he has, and whatever his alcohol-induced plan is, you hate to admit it’s working.

You knew he was back, it had been all over the news, “President’s Daughter Saved by Hero!” That happened two weeks ago. Seeing him applauded had made your chest swell in pride until you recalled telling him this drawn-out sham of a relationship was over when he’d brought you the news of his latest assignment. You couldn’t take it anymore, the distance and the secrets, the months away and the lack of contact. It was practically debilitating, but it hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t your concern anymore in those months he was gone. It felt worse than waiting for an email he’d sneak in or a spotty phone call where you could barely make out the words but the sound of his voice still washed over you like a soothing balm.

It’s why you couldn’t truly be angry now.

“Let’s go,” you finally urge, your tone gentler now, “Bed.”

It takes every bit of your strength to pull him into your bed, whiskey heavy on his breath when he collapses on top of you while mustering enough decency to kick his boots off as he sighs in what must be relief. Your lights are still on, and you’re certain the door is unlocked, but there’s no moving now, he’s too heavy and warm and familiar. You can’t be mad, because then you’d have to admit that you didn’t want this, that you hadn’t thought about the way your mattress just feels more comfortable with his weight dipping it down to the perfect point. It would be a lie.

“Leon?” you whisper into his hair–it smells like a bar, stale, musty cigarettes and sweat–but he’s already out cold, too comfortable and content in your embrace now to stay awake.

He sees more horrors in a week than most do in their lifetime, and he finds safety here. It’s something you take for granted, especially in the long stretches of his absence filled with solo dinners and lonely nights, but it’s impossible to forget as he’s curled into you as much as his large frame allows, his breathing slow and easy. The familiarity of it drags you under, your eyes drifting closed as your fingers scratch soothingly up and down his spine.

******

Butter crackles and pops over the hum of your podcast coming through the small speaker beside the sink. Early morning light filters in through the paper shades still drawn in the kitchen, the tiles cool on your bare feet while you chop fruit and various toppings for the omelet you’ve been thinking about making since last night.

Leon was still in bed, getting out from beneath his heavy body without waking him could be considered your morning workout. He hadn’t moved an inch all night from where he’d fallen asleep pressed to your chest. When your rumbling stomach had become too much to bear you’d had to pull away, despite how little you found yourself wanting to.

“That smells good,” a sheepish voice calls from the doorway, your head turning to find Leon slumped against the frame scratching the back of his head, his eyes avoiding yours, “I’ll go. I’m sorry for showing up like this. Thanks…for not kicking me out onto the street.”

“You can stay. Just take a shower. I can smell you from here.”

He laughs, his face lighting up enough to wash away the harrowing look he’d been wearing, “You didn’t throw my clothes out onto the curb?”

“I didn’t, actually. I like your shirts.”

“Well, they look better on you anyway.”

Ten minutes later as you plate fruit and omelets and pull two slices of bread from the bag on the counter, you hear him approaching, and you don’t even try to suppress the happy little smile settling on your lips. Flicking the toaster on as you spin, you soak in the sight of him turning into the room that always looks smaller when he’s in it. His hair is still damp and hanging loosely in his face, the shirt that was too tight months ago now on the verge of tearing at the seams when he reaches up to comb his locks out of his eyes. He looks better, the color returning to his face and the glow to the sea glass eyes you’d swam in so many times before. Your throat seizes for a moment when he flashes you a content smirk.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, your breath hitching when his arms cage you against the counter, his lips centimeters from yours.

“I forgot how pretty you look in the morning,” he whispers, his thumb and pointer tipping your chin up softly.

He gives you no time to comment on the blatant deflection, his pouty lips pressing to yours as he cups the back of your head, groaning when you reciprocate eagerly. Immediately, your hands find the warm, solid stretch of his chest, your hand falling instinctually to the steady beat of his heart. You’d learned early on that every symphony it beat into your ear as you laid on his chest could be the last, so the gentle taps against your palm are a welcome reminder that he’s still here. The dangers he faced had yet to lay claim.

“Missed you, Bug,” he murmurs against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.

“Missed you, too,” you finally confirm, his relieved huff of laughter hot on your skin as he sighs in relief, kissing your forehead.

“Still mad at me?”

“Not til the next time you leave.”

“Gonna let me in the house when I get back?”

“If you’re lucky.”

It’s easy to tell he’s trying to control himself, the hardened bulge pressing against your inner thigh giving him away. His lips can’t stop pressing against yours, taking advantage of every pause in the conversation to peck at your still-speaking mouth, your arms finally wrapping around his neck warmly, his head burying into the crook of your neck. You lean your head against him, cradling him in the way you know he loves, his deep, content breaths heating the thin skin of your throat.

“I’m never lucky,” he sighs, and your heart aches for him.

This time is different, and you don’t know why. He always comes back battered and bruised both mentally and physically, but this time seems to have affected him even more than all the others. You don’t ask for details, he won’t tell you anyway, but you know he can work through it here, however slowly.

“You have a key, Leon,” you remind him with a chuckle, threading your fingers into his hair, “You can get in whenever you want.”

“You have to want me here,” he mumbles, “I have my own bed to sleep alone in.”

“I want you here.”

With those words, you pull his head up to stare into his tired eyes. You do want him here, and though your last outburst certainly had given him reason to think you didn’t, you hope he believes you now in the warm, soft realm of your embrace.

“I want you here,” you repeat, “I want you here. Not there. Do you know what it’s like when you’re away?! I make myself sick, obsessing over the news and…and obituaries…”

You pull away to read the guilt falling over his features. It had come out harsher than you intended to, but the point was made.

“I love you,” you whisper and then watch as he shatters.

“Saying things like that might make me consider retirement,” he chokes out, closing the space you’d made and leaning his forehead against yours.

“Oh yeah?” you respond, a sultry lilt to your tone as your hand drifts to the waistband of his sweatpants. “And what might convince you then?”

Before he can answer, your hand grips his already stiffened length, the way his breath trembles as you tug slowly sending a surge to your core. It takes him a moment to recalibrate as you drag your hand over him, and when he does, the ease at which he hoists you onto the counter makes you yelp, your arms wrapping around his neck as he wrestles your shorts off your hips.

As soon as you’re free, you spread your legs wide, ready for his body to notch between them in a perfect fit, but instead, he sinks to the floor. Teeth graze over your inner thighs, just the thought of how close his mouth is makes your cunt clench around nothing but anticipation. Rough hands loop around your legs, pulling you closer to the edge before pressing his lips to your clit and suckling just enough to make you buck up against his face. His hair is soft when you knot your fingers through it and lean back against the cabinet behind you, his tongue probing into your fluttering hole greedily as he seeks to reacquaint with what he’d missed.

Muffled groans are vibrating against you as he weaves through your slit, lapping at your juices leaking free before petitioning for more at your swollen bundle of nerves. You can see your arousal shining on his face when he pauses to take a lungful of air through a slackened jaw, his eyes as lidded as they were last night under the effect of alcohol. It’s shameless and unhindered the way he takes his fill, not that he was ever very timid before, but this time it feels like he wants and needs more, or maybe like he’d been afraid he’d never get to do this again.

You can already tell he won’t relent until you come on his mouth, so as the coil in your belly winds ever tighter you tug him by the blonde knots in your fist where you need him, enjoying the way he whined against your slick skin appreciatively. Two fingers slip inside you as his lips lock around your nub, curving and pressing the soft patch on your inner wall that has your vision flashing white. Every nerve is standing on edge as you lose control, your toes curling and fingers tugging on his hair hard enough it has to hurt, but he doesn’t stop or protest.

“Leon!” you cry out as you finally release his head to brace yourself on the countertop’s edge, “Lee-hmmm…”

His name is the last coherent word you get out before it’s only feral moans of bliss. You’re so close it’s like a fire burning in your limbs, every muscle tensing as you try to withhold it a little longer to prolong this moment where all you cared about was him and the way he could send you into the stars. When the tip of his tongue pinpoints and stiffens to flick teasingly before he latches once again, that’s all it takes to have the elastic snaps, sending a shockwave from your core all the way to the tips of your fingers, your scream echoing off the counters and windows. He’s satisfied with himself, smiling as he stands and lets your legs fall limply from his grasp, his hands catching your boneless body from slinking down onto the floor.

“M’gonna fuck you now,” he warns, gripping his cock that’s flushed purple and notching at your entrance, your response is nothing more than blind, sloppy kisses as you clean the taste of yourself off of his lips.

Your body welcomes him eagerly, sucking him in on his first thrust to the root. He sighs, gripping your waist to keep you still during the onslaught he’s set to release after you rip his shirt up over his head. Broad shoulders and thick pecs keep your fingers busy as you rememorize every dip and curve of his body, the slapping of skin on skin drowning out the pathetic whines falling from both of you as the sticky arousal leaking from your pussy soaks the patch of blonde hair at his base and drips down his thighs to pool on the waist of his pants he’s pulled down just enough. He’s not gentle, taking everything he needs with every hard piston of his hips, your legs quivering around him as you take every thick inch of him with no resistance.

Leon wants to slow down, to savor the friction of your silky walls over his dick that’s craved anything but his own calloused hand for months, but he can’t. Not when you’re so wet it takes all his concentration to not slip right out of your gaping hole that’s pulling him in with a vicelike grip. He wants to flip you around and bend you over the counter, take you from behind where he can arch your back by tugging your hair, your ass rippling from the force of his thrusts, but you’re still kissing him so sweetly as he fucks you this hard, his throat currently being lavished by your affection instead of strangled by a monster. And it’s that reminder that sets him over the edge.

Thick, hot ropes of cum fill your cunt as his head falls to your shoulder, his thumb flicking over your clit as he steadies his breath and his cock softens. It doesn’t take long for you to find release once again, gentler this time, quieter than the wildfire of the first and you let it ember as the mix of your releases leaks free, drenching you both and dripping onto the floor.

When he lifts his head to smile at you, his cheeks are flushed rosy pink, his eyes sparkling like gemstones before he cups the back of your head and kisses you in a silent thanks.

“I, uh, think we burnt the toast,” he chuckles, kissing you again before you can utter an unnecessary apology as the smell of charred bread finally registers, “Good thing I already had breakfast.”

Masterlist

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #re4r leon #leon kennedy fanfic #leon x reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Prelude to a Kiss

Pairings: Camboy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Camboy!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: A chance encounter with two handsome men at a bookstore brings some much needed excitement to your normal routine. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: F/lirting, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), pet name, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers being both gentlemen and menaces (they're warnings, okay?). A/N: Welcome to my Showtime AU! Excited to share my first "actual" Stucky x Reader AU and for our reader to come into her own. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @sgt-seabass, @rookthorne, and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me scream about this introduction. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a normal afternoon when you went into the bookstore, the familiar quiet greeting you as the door shut. You ventured into the shop every couple of weeks to find new books to read. The man behind the desk didn't bother to lift his head long enough from his phone to greet you. You would think after your first few visits he'd at least offer you a smile or suggestion, but he never did. You were used to guys not giving you much attention.

Too ordinary to stand out, I guess.

No, you wouldn't think of yourself that way. Just because most guys tended to gravitate toward your friends instead of you didn't mean anything was wrong with you. The right person would come along and take notice.

"I am a catch," you whispered to yourself as you walked through the shelves.

And a bit lonely.

Your phone dinged before you could dwell on that thought, smiling as your best friend's name popped up. It faded quickly when you read her message. The two of you had a dinner date, but the new guy she was seeing had tickets to some show. You understood. You really did.

Except you were the friend who always seemed to get ditched when a guy came along.

"Have fun!" you sent back. "We'll catch up later."

At least you could get a jump start on a new book and curl up on the couch for the evening. Like you did most nights. Lather, rinse, repeat. When did your life become so monotonous?

"Romance it is," you mumbled as you reached for a blue book on the shelf.

You turned it over to read the blurb on the back, a small smile on your face as you walked down the aisle. From the simpering heroines to feisty protagonists, you enjoyed immersing yourself in the emotions that poured from the pages as the heroes fought to get their girls. Confident, broody, flirty, alluring, you loved them all and wondered if such men you read about existed.

"Oh!"

For a second, you thought you walked into one of the shelves before you realized you bumped into a person. A very large person who didn't budge, even as a couple of books fell to the ground. You dropped to the floor immediately to retrieve them. Why hadn't you been paying attention?

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry," you said as the guy crouched down to help.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, his velvety voice making you lift your head.

In front of you was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Long, brown hair, close to his shoulders, framed his face and your mouth went dry as you found yourself staring into his bright blue eyes. You couldn't help but notice the smile on his face as he offered you his hand and effortlessly pulled you to your feet, your cheeks hot as he steadied you. He took up more than half the aisle with his muscular frame and you knew then that a god existed among men.

Like he stepped right out of one of these novels.

"I-I'm sorry," you said again, your gaze going to his hands as he fixed the stack of books he was carrying. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."

"It's okay," he smiled, looking you up and down with a slow and steady gaze. "You can bump into me again if you want. I don't mind."

You nearly dropped the book in your own hand as you stepped back, his smile shifting to a smirk. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was flirting with you. That couldn't be the case though.

"Oh, you are fucking adorable," he said in a low voice, quickly looking behind him. "Stevie, get over here. Found something special."

"What did you find?" The deep timbre that rang out made your knees weak.

You let out a shaky breath when an Adonis walked around the corner. Just as large as the brunette, but with shorter blonde hair, a smile didn't reach his brilliant blue eyes as he strode over. Instead of light scruff like the man you bumped into, he donned a trimmed beard. He had to shift just to fit beside his friend and you nearly shrank under his gaze. You tried not to openly gape, not knowing which one of them to concentrate on.

So, two gods among men. Like something out of a wet dream. Do I look at the veins in their arms? Do I stare at their chests? How do they even fit in their shirts? Did they purposely choose something that matched their eyes?

The brunette smirked again and gave a single nod toward you. "This precious gem here bumped into me."

You nearly melted to the floor as heat rushed to your face again. The pet name had your head spinning. Or maybe it was the intoxicating scent of their cologne. "It was an accident and I apologized."

The blonde softly smiled at that, but his eyes held a spark of mischief. "I'm sure it was, but I know Buck is not sorry that you bumped into him."

"Not sorry at all," he confirmed.

You shifted your weight and wondered if the bookstore was always so hot or if it was just them. Your skin heated up more under your clothes and your heart beat faster under their attention. Part of you wished you had a bottle of water to dump over your head and cool off. You didn't even want to think about being sandwiched between them because your legs would likely give out.

"Buck and Stevie?" you asked.

"That's what we call each other. I'm Bucky and that's Steve," the brunette smiled, nodding to the blonde. "Can call us Sarge and Cap if you want."

You couldn't put your finger on it, but something about them seemed familiar. Like you had either seen them somewhere or heard of them in passing, but that couldn't be the case. No, you would have remembered them.

Men like them were unforgettable.

"It's nice to meet you," Steve said, giving you an expectant look.

You told them your name after a second and you hoped you didn't look weird when you blinked a few times. You were trying to make sure you were awake and not dreaming. Because who bumped into two gorgeous men like this in a bookstore? That wasn't your life.

Except, today, it was.

“I really should have been looking where I was going. I mean, you're not hard to miss," you said, doing your best not to ogle at Bucky. "Neither of you are. I mean that in a good way."

"You aren't hard to miss either. I also mean that in a good way," Bucky smiled.

"I agree," Steve said, his eyes sweeping over you before you glanced at yourself.

You wondered what they saw exactly. It wasn't that you looked bad. You always left your place with confidence in your appearance. You just weren't used to most guys looking anymore.

Or maybe, just maybe, some are and I'm the one who isn't paying attention.

Bucky gently pried the book from your hand, his fingers lingering against yours. "And I'd like to pay for that."

"Oh, no. You don't have to," you argued as he added the book to his pile.

You noticed then that he held a couple of science books while Steve had novels on art. It intrigued you as both were fascinating subjects in their own way. You had a feeling both of them were the same way: captivating, wondrous, and deep.

"I want to."

"A gentleman would ask to get her a drink, too," Steve teased.

"I don't know if I'm a gentleman," Bucky mused as he looked at you. "But I would also like you to have a drink with us. Then I'll accept your apology."

What would the sassy heroine say in this situation?

"I-" you almost sputtered.

Not that.

"Now you're just being mean, Buck. It was an accident and she apologized," Steve chastised, but he smiled at you.

"I'm not," Bucky swore, clutching his chest with one hand. "Hurts right here where you bumped me. A drink with you would make us both feel all better."

Steve regarded you carefully. "Unless you have a boyfriend you need to get back to. Or girlfriend."

You couldn't help licking your lips, not knowing just how enticing the gesture was. It was dizzying to be on the receiving end of their stares again, yet you couldn't tear your eyes away as you looked between them. Was it wrong to enjoy the attention these strangers were giving you?

"No, I'm not seeing anyone," you said.

And no rings on their fingers, but no way can they be single.

Instead of turning to walk the other way, Bucky moved forward and bent his head. "Lucky us," he whispered against your ear before he brushed past you. "Mmm. You smell sweet. Like flowers," he added over his shoulder.

You bit back a whine before Steve gave you an assuring smile. You admitted to yourself earlier that you were lonely. Had you sent out some sort of vibe to the universe to get them to talk to you? Or did you manifest them into existence?

"I hope we aren't making you uncomfortable. Buck can come on a little strong when he sees something he wants," Steve said as he gently put a hand on your back to guide you. "Though I can't say I blame him in this case."

“No, it’s okay. He seems nice," you said, smiling to yourself at the compliment. "Even if he needs a drink to accept an apology.”

Steve's chuckle had you shivering as you made your way to the front of the store. "A drink he plans to pay for along with your book," he said, adding his small stack to the pile on the desk.

Standing behind them was a mistake as your gaze went right to their asses. You wondered if your friends would believe you if you told them about the two perfect specimens who could be models if they wanted to. Maybe they were since you had no clue what they did.

Stop staring. Don't think about grabbing their asses. Did they paint their jeans on? God, I need to get laid.

As if Bucky knew you were looking, he glanced over his shoulder and winked. You averted your gaze after that. He was clearly the more playful of the two, but something in his eyes told you he was a man you should take seriously. And Steve? You didn't ever want to be on the receiving end of upsetting or disappointing him.

Not like I'll ever find out. They're not actually taking me for a drink. They'll go their way and I'll go mine.

Bucky thanked the cashier before he turned and handed you your book with a card on top. "Stevie and I are gonna grab a drink at The Howling Commandos in a half hour if you wanna join us. It's just around the corner," he explained as you moved away from the counter. "If not, there are our numbers if you ever wanna chat. Just spare me the heartache and wait 'til we leave before you throw it out."

You curiously ran a finger over the card. It had both Bucky and Steve's names on them, but no business listed. It intrigued you even more now.

Who are you two?

"Thank you for buying my book. You really didn't have to do that," you said, touched that he was kind enough to do that. "And I'm not going to throw your card out."

No one in their right mind would do something like that.

"Thank you. I would've had to listen to him whine all night," Steve said, nudging his friend.

"Not all night. Most of it," Bucky teased. "And it was nothing. Does that mean you'll join us for a drink?" he added, his tone casual, but his gaze hopeful.

I would let you both devour me and I wouldn't object.

"You're really asking me?"

"Yeah, we are," Steve answered, his gaze almost as soft as Bucky's.

You wondered if it was a good idea. As charming as they were, you didn't know them. They didn't give you bad vibes though or the impression that they were playing a prank. Your gut told you to take a chance. Because your couch and books would always be there, but how many opportunities like this would you get?

Maybe they see that I'm a catch. And if it's just a drink and nothing more, it's nice to make new friends.

"I'll join you," you replied, your heart racing when they both smiled. It gave you the boost of confidence to flirt back a little. "If only to spare your feelings."

Both of their eyebrows shot up when you giggled and you took great pleasure in them laughing with you, like the three of you were sharing a private joke.

"Careful, little gem," Bucky smiled as he held the door open for you. "You might just make us fall in love."

"Might?" Steve smiled as they headed out, too. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."

You managed not to stumble onto the sidewalk at their words. They were just being charming. It had to be. God, they were lethal.

How am I going to survive having drinks with them if they keep flirting like that?

"See you in thirty minutes," you said as you regained your composure.

"Don't be late."

"Otherwise Steve will have to punish you," Bucky winked before they turned and walked away, leaving you awestruck where you stood.

Welp. There go my panties.

So, how long before it takes them to ruin you? And how long before you find out what they do for a living? Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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wedonthaveawhile · 7 months

Text

When she says my name.

Garreth Weasley x F!MC (18+)

Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, possesive!Garreth, dominant!Garrreth, public sex, dirty talk, aged-up characters, unrequited love, pining.

AO3 // Word count: 3k

Garreth picked at the splintered wood on his broom from a recent tussle with a bludger, scanning the courtyard intermittently for any trace of his Quidditch team. Their head of house had recently delivered a stern criticism about their hero complex. Apparently, each member was too focused on personal glory, neglecting the importance of working as a cohesive team.

He eventually detected a figure on a broom, although quickly realised they displayed a level of nimble grace far beyond what he'd expect from one of his lumbering teammates. Hogwarts' resident hero was evidently making a return from one of her mysterious outings.

His eyes swept the courtyard again, a scattering of students strolled across the well-kempt grass, a handful basked in the sun near the fountain, but none he recognised. Thinking about it, Garreth wondered whether he should hang around for this team-building training. It was probably wise, considering he was not only the captain but also the one who had organised the whole thing. However, they were running late, and he had spotted far more appealing company.

Before he could put much more thought into it, he swung his leg over his broomstick and began to silently trail the unsuspecting witch.

He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started noticing her disappearances. He assumed he just hadn't been paying much attention to her whereabouts prior to her inquiry regarding his more 'unobtainable' potions. His tactics hadn't evolved significantly since fifth-year when he’d charmed the newcomer into pilfering Sharp's office for supplies, but he had become far more adept at sneaking around for rare ingredients.

He agreed to assist in whatever scheme she was cooking up, on the condition she helped him obtain the key component. Partly for the benefits of having someone on the lookout for wandering faculty, but mostly because the beloved heroine of Hogwarts could do no wrong. If their covert operation were to be exposed, her involvement would mean the detention time his aunt dished out would be significantly reduced.

They needed snakeweed, which he was fairly certain was cultivated and harvested in the greenhouse. However, Professor Garlick was extremely protective of her plants, requiring their thieving to be done after curfew.

Moonlight wiggled through the twisted tendrils of the countless plants scattered throughout the greenhouse as they dispelled their disillusionment charm and got to work.

"What do you reckon all of this is?" The witch gestured towards a dense blanket covering the harvesting bench, a few neatly folded sheets at one end made it appear like some kind of makeshift bed.

"Perhaps the rumours about Garlick and Kogawa are true. Maybe we've stumbled upon their secret little sex den.” Garreth turned around and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a venomous tentacula lurking in the shadows.

She pulled back the cover, unveiling a project in progress—mallowsweet leaves neatly laid out, drying between the two blankets.

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she scoffed, laying the covering back over the golden foliage. “Or you need to get laid.”

"It was a logical assumption," he argued, crouching beneath a table, casting a dim lumos across a collection of small plant pots. "The height of these tables are just right for it."

"Should I ask how you know that?"

She lifted herself onto the table as if testing the height for herself. Garreth smirked as he shifted the pots around with flicks of his wand.

"I’m a warm-blooded male, I'd say I'm an expert in these things."

Spotting a small propagation of snakeweed, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping a watchful eye on the door. She wasn't. She was perched primly on the edge of the table, legs pressed together from knees to toes.

His eyes roamed across her body, and he realised he had never really had the opportunity to thoroughly check her out. She was like forbidden fruit, always flanked by her two Slytherin gatekeepers. It's not that he hadn't noticed she was attractive, she certainly was. Her feminine figure hinted at subtle signs of muscle earned from days spent sprinting around the castle.

His lusty gaze travelled up to her face, only to discover she had been watching him the entire time. Suppressing the flicker of embarrassment, he instead leaned into his Gryffindor bravery. He grabbed the small pot and approached her, his hips meeting her knees with an intentional bump.

"As promised," he presented her with the delicate plant, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it over.

"That was easy," she raised the pot to catch the moonlight. Her eyes shifted from the plant to him, and her pupils bloomed. "You've earned yourself a returning customer."

"Splendid," he grinned, wondering whether this meant more after-hour hangouts, a thought that kindled his overactive imagination. "The first one's on the house, the rest might come with a price tag."

“I suppose I’ll have to start saving then. What's your price?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make demands beyond your means,” he backtracked, worried she might think he was being serious. “Wouldn’t want to scare off my favourite customer.”

"Snagged the title of the favourite customer without parting with a single penny?” She chuckled lightly, scraping her teeth across her lower lip, “Business must be crawling."

"I prioritise quality over quantity," his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face, purposefully lingering a beat too long on her lips before flitting back to her eyes. "Now, what assets do you bring to the trading table?"

"Let me think," she reclined on her palms. "What do I bring to this specific table..." she emphasised each word with a tap of her nails against the wood, "that a warm-blooded male might find tempting?"

Heat surged through his body, and he began to regret pressing himself up against her legs, there was no way she couldn’t feel his enthusiasm swell against her knees.

“Did I mention it’s one for the price of two?”

She laughed, the sugar-sweet sound tickling his brain and the movement of her body causing her legs to part slightly.

“See, what did I tell you?" he pushed his palms against the table on either side of her thighs as he slotted himself between them. "Perfect height."

"I took your word for it. After all, you're the expert." She gave his tie a tug before running the fabric through her fingers. “Well, so you say...”

"Correct," he answered simply, because the only other words rattling around in his head was an offer to sit on his face, and he was trying really hard to play it cool.

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you going to verify that claim?”

You would have thought they were time-fated lovers, not classroom acquaintances. She had been right. He needed to get laid, and she needed some stress relief. It didn't take long before her skirt was hiked up around her waist and he was showcasing just how perfect the height of the table was. He assured her the greenhouse was soundproof due to the mandrakes, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Frankly, he didn't care. Her unrestrained moaning, nails scraping across the wooden table, heels digging into his back to pull him in deeper—it made a lifetime of detention feel like a minor nuisance.

The saying goes, once is a mistake and twice is a habit, but Garreth wondered when it tipped into addiction. Whenever she was stressed—and fortunately for him, that was often—he found himself happily yanked by his tie into the nearest broom cupboard, beneath the Quidditch stands before one of his matches, by the edge of the lake under a disillusionment charm...

Maybe this time, on the balcony of the highest tower?

That's where she gracefully dismounted her broom. He followed suit, touching down behind her without a sound. Her jumper was splattered with mud down one arm, but for the most part, she was reasonably unscathed which was a rarity. She tugged it over her head to clean it with a quick charm, and he realised the stain bore a suspicious resemblance to a troll's handprint.

He knew she could handle herself, she’d been doing so for almost two years without his observations. Nevertheless, he realised he’d begun to worry about her when she was away.

He cleared his throat.

She whirled around with startled eyes and he muffled her gasp with a kiss. She squirmed for a few seconds, but her resistance crumbled as his thumbs glided up her neck, tracing delicate patterns under her ears.

He wasn't certain if she was doing the pulling or if he was doing the pushing, but somehow her back ended up crashing against the wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as his lips tore from hers and latched onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she landed a weak thump on his bicep.

"You look like you lost a fight with a swamp," he mumbled against her skin, his hands wandering down to her hips.

"I'll have you know, I beat that swamp fair and square."

A ghost of a laugh dispersed across her neck, "I like the thought of watching you mud-wrestle. Let me come with you next time."

“Or you could come in me now?”

It was an obvious deflection tactic, but he gladly took the bait. His kisses grew forceful as he began to nip at her exposed skin.

“You better not be leaving marks, Weasley.”

He grumbled in protest against the light pink blotch he had begun to work into her throat. Something in the primal recesses of his mind itched to brand her. He wanted his lips stained on her skin, regardless of wherever or whoever she was with when she was gone.

"What if they're out of sight?" His fingers danced against her neck as he worked on undoing her tie, it fluttered to the ground before he finished asking for permission.

She withdrew her wand and uttered the incantation for a protective charm to shield their misdeeds from any potential spectators. He took that as consent, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Where have you been?" he probed before his teeth dug into the plump flesh above her breasts. It had been nearly nine days since their last encounter, easily their longest dry spell in the two months since their greenhouse tryst.

"None of your business," She hooked her fingers into his trousers to pull him closer, trying to find some friction.

"I want it to be.”

"Tough shit, Weasley,” her voice faltered as he hiked her skirt up around her waist.

“Garreth,” he reprimanded.

She only called him by his first name when they were fucking. He was certain she’d been deliberately conditioning him with it. If he teased her too vigorously in class all she had to do was say, "Shut it, Garreth," and he'd have to discreetly conceal his excitement for the next ten minutes. She made him dumb, plain and simple.

"You'll have to earn that," she purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.

He scooped her up, spinning her around until she perched on the balcony's banister. A yelp escaped her as she teetered on the concrete edge, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“I want to feel this tomorrow,” she popped open his buttons to speed up the process, “Please?"

“I've got you," he assured, feeling her pulse thunder against his chest as he positioned himself between her thighs. One hand supported her back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.

It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before she came along. The way she demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning. "Say please again," he whispered, nipping her lower lip as he moved her soaked underwear to the side and positioned himself at her entrance. "I like it when you ask nicely."

"Pretty please?" she simpered before kissing him, her tongue eagerly seeking his.

He swallowed her moan as he pushed himself into her, she felt better than he remembered. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave her everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she whined against his mouth, her head tilting back as her eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, her own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.

He pulled her close by the small of her back with one arm, maintaining his grip on her neck with the other, aligning her to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, she bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as he bottomed out.

So, it was fine when she left a mark. He'd certainly remember that.

“You feel so fucking good, Garreth-”

A fractured cry fell from her lips as he pounded into her because his name had floated off her tongue like a prayer, causing something inside him to shatter, like it always did. Defining the constantly shifting dynamic between them was impossible, but it was addicting - He always found himself craving a little more than what he was getting.

“Who do you belong to?”

Garreth threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head up to look him in the eyes. She regarded him with a dizzy stare but remained silent. He began to slow down, and she instinctively bucked her hips to maintain some friction as her building orgasm began to ebb away.

“I said, who do you belong to?”

She wasn't his, they were both aware of that. This was never more than a matter of convenient timing and a means of stress relief. Nonetheless, he took pleasure in the hold he had over the most formidable witch of their generation. The witch with unwavering principles and determination. The witch who never faltered in her beliefs. The witch who was currently lying through her teeth for the pleasure of coming undone on his cock.

“You,” she whimpered, “Please, Garreth. Don’t stop, please.”

He didn't know if it was the way she was begging or the frantic desperation of her hips grinding against his, but he was teetering on the edge of his breaking point. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold himself together long enough for her to reach the finish line.

"Chin up," he demanded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he reached one hand between them, rubbing a lopsided circle around her clit. “You look at me when you come."

He groaned through clenched teeth as his words caused her to instantly tighten around him, and that beautiful, hazy look fell over her face. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him so hard it carved itself onto his brain and he released nine days of pent-up desire. He rolled his hips against hers as they both rode it out, briefly forgetting he should be gentle considering she was perched on the edge of a several hundred-foot drop.

He had believed there was nothing better than watching her unravel in his arms before seeking his own release, but he was wrong. Feeling her orgasm spasming over his shaft as he filled her up damn near killed him.

He fastened his trousers and helped her down from the stone balustrade. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to hide the fact that she was wobbling. He hoped his performance had met her expectations and he’d still be making her legs tremble tomorrow.

He peppered kisses across the blemishes he'd left on her breasts as he fastened the buttons of her shirt, trailing up to nip at the delicate spot on her neck just beneath her ear, the spot only he knew about, the spot that made her head tilt back and her vision fill with stars. He whispered an "Accio" against her skin, summoning a tie from the ground. He secured it around her throat with a playful tug before pulling her jumper over her head.

“You have to go?” he murmured between kisses, finding it bothered him less when he asked rather than when she told him.

Her chest heaved as she sighed, planting a lingering kiss on his lips before bending down to gather her things. “I have a study group. You’re welcome to join?”

He gave her a foggy smile and shook his head lightly. “I have some Quidditch thing I’m late for.”

“Alright, well…” She cast a fleeting glance at her abandoned broom on the floor. They hadn’t quite mastered the art of goodbyes yet. “Later, Weasley.”

“See you later,” he offered her a half-hearted wave, hoping she wouldn't make him wait another nine days before flying into his line of sight again.

As he watched her leave, he found himself wondering what impulse had led him to fasten his Gryffindor tie around her neck. There was the undeniable hope her irritation at his bold act would result in some passionate hate sex, but it ran deeper than that. It felt territorial. He’d been growing increasingly irritated with Sallow's lecherous stare and Gaunt's persistent attempts to cater to her every whim. They seemed to believe they held a Slytherin monopoly on her affections, all due to some unspoken event that happened over two years ago. Garreth understood her on a deeper level. She wanted someone who wouldn't procrastinate for two years, someone capable of making her scream on a greenhouse bench at two in the morning. He had a claim too, a far more substantial one.

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morallyinept · 10 days

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Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 17

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie and Jude arrive home to their respective families, and begin to face the realities of their separation.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 16

You’ll be surprised to know that the odds of surviving a plane crash are pretty much in your favour; despite the fact I killed everyone off in this story except for our Delta hero and his heroine.

Around ninety-five point seven per cent in your favour to be precise. However, the doomed flight eight-sixteen defied those perky odds when the engine caught fire and the plane plummeted out of the sky and crash landed into the ocean, nose first.

The survival rate was hampered by several factors: the storm, the pilots being unable to regain control of the aircraft, and the fact that the plane hit the water at such a speed that it broke apart upon impact.

There were no other survivors; the plane’s black box was never found. A search party ensued of course as soon as the plane didn’t arrive at its intended destination, but the searches were only conducted in and around the immediate area where the plane was last spotted on radar. The point of its disappearance was just past the tip of South Africa, having been tumbling off course as it was crash landing, towards the Kerguelen Islands; a group of islands in French Southern and Antarctic lands.

The original destination for flight eight-sixteen was Madagascar - Jude’s choice for a sunny getaway and Frankie’s work taking him there for a fresh start. To relax and unwind and do some lemur spotting whilst getting over their respective break-ups and life kicking them in the mutual grits.

A distance of two thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles separates Madagascar and the Kerguelen Islands. And a distance of one thousand, three hundred and thirty-four miles from Cape Town on the tip of South Africa to the Prince Edward Islands.

The islands are for the most part uninhabited, except for a native colony of penguins. However to the north east of the islands, there are further tinier islands that are also uninhabited and isolated, and this is where our two survivors ultimately washed up.

The climate around the islands is predominantly warm with generous helpings of rain and it’s for this reason that Frankie and Jude were able to survive and collect water on a regular basis, although sometimes dangerously sparing. Sheer dumb luck in brute honesty, I mean, they could have crash landed anywhere, right?

Of course this knowledge now seems useless and pointless to them because every day on that island was a constant battle for survival and no amount of facts or ‘you were lucky you landed where you did’ spiel is going to change that harrowing thought.

The flight back home to The States was as anxious as they come. Stepping foot onto that plane was one of the bravest things they both had encountered and achieved. And the pair didn’t let go of each other’s hands at all, occasionally squeezing tight when the plane would dip or jolt from turbulence; their hearts trying to make a dash for it and their bowels equally bracing for carnage in their seats.

The flight from Cape Town to New York’s JFK was approximately twenty-one hours with a stop-over in Amsterdam for a re-fuel. They sat in business class, with that extra leg room for Frankie of course, and Jude marvelled at the space, courtesy of the US Embassy.

The luxury and the service came with a bright bleached smile, whilst Frankie admired and watched Jude as though she were a caged animal being let loose for the first time.

They had no physical luggage aside from a tiny carry-on with a spare pair of clothes each, their phone chargers and a small amount of cash that Benny had wired Frankie through the help of a local bank; other than that, they just had their new passports, out of date iPhones and each other.

Jake had arranged for a security escort to meet them at the airport and to drive them to their Air Bn’b in the city, close enough to Jude’s parent’s house.

They eventually dozed off together, Jude’s head resting on Frankie’s bony shoulder and his head on top of hers, clutching tightly onto one another’s hand still, even in their drowsy state.

The plane touched down at JFK and it was raining out; a grey sky greeted them, seemingly following them home from the island, and despite it, it was good to be finally on firm ground that wasn’t sand.

They waited to exit the plane under instruction from their escort, after the flurry of the other passengers who paid no mind to them at all, and in no real rush to face the inevitable - Jude’s stomach was already in knots.

They went through border control, handing over their passports for inspection and scrutiny with Frankie taking his cap off to reveal his long, overgrown locks to the officer.

They both were in dire need of a haircut amongst other things, but Frankie was kinda rocking this shaggy grown out look and even attempted a man bun.

“You look like a pretentious dick, take it out,” Jude had said to him, laughing, when he modelled it for her back in the hotel room in Cape Town.

“It was the look I was going for.” He’d mused to her.

Just outside the arrivals hall on the other side of passport control, an officer is holding up a plaque with Frankie’s last name printed over it, and they both approach them cautiously.

“Captain Morales, I presume?” The officer enquires. He’s flanked by several other border patrol and burly military officers, and their escort from the consulate in Cape Town hands over their documents.

“Just Frankie,” Frankie greets as the man offers his hand to shake it.

“We’re here to escort you both through arrivals and get you home. It’s a little crazy out there. Everyone is glad you’re both home safely.”

Jude can hear the ruckus already - an animated fracas of chatter and excitement. The sounds of camera shutters are already going off and flashes of lights pulse down the entrance hall.

“You ready?” Frankie asks her, tightening his grip on her hand.

She smiles. “No.”

Frankie takes his cap off and places it on her head, pulling the visor down over her face.

The officers flank them in an arrowhead formation, closing the gaps on the sides whilst two officers head up the front.

“Just keep your head down, hermosa,” Frankie says, and squeezes her hand. “It’ll soon be over.”

They begin to walk in unison and it’s like they’re walking in beat to the rhythm of her heart, slowly getting faster and faster as they break through the automatic doors into arrivals and into a deluge of carnage.

The crowds start clapping and cheering. The terminal is a whirlwind of noise and motion, a stark contrast to the quiet isolation of the island.

“FRANCISCO! JUDE! OVER HERE! FRANCISCO!”

The crowds are cordoned off with barriers and police officers lining the route. A plethora of journalists and paparazzi flank them, following through the crowds, and a glitter of flashing lights blind them both as they push on forward with the military officers surrounding them.

“Francisco, how do you feel about being rescued?”

“What's the first thing you’re going to do now you’re back?”

The questions come rapid fire and are yelled through the gaps of the officers, each one more intrusive than the last.

“How did you become a couple?”

“Do you have anything to say about the Airline? Are you going to sue?”

Frankie tightens his grip on Jude’s hand, drawing strength from their connection. He can feel her trembling, and he knows she’s just as overwhelmed as he is.

The cacophony is deafening and Jude feels Frankie squeeze back onto her hand tightly before he pulls her inwards, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and she buries her face into his armpit and squeezes her eyes closed, wishing it was over.

“Keep moving,” one of the soldiers instructs, his voice firm but reassuring. “We’ve got you covered.”

They push through the throng, the military personnel forming a protective barrier around them. The crowd is relentless, cameras flashing in their faces, microphones thrust forward in the hope of catching a soundbite.

Frankie tries to keep his focus ahead, his hand pressed up against the shoulder of one of the army guys so as not to get separated, but the sheer volume of attention is staggering.

“How does it feel to be back on American soil?”

“What was the hardest part of your ordeal?”

“Can you tell us what you remember about the crash?”

The noise seems to die out a little as they exit the terminal and are practically manhandled into a large car with tinted windows, which speeds off as soon as the doors are slammed shut. Jude clocks a few wayward journalists taking photos of the car and running after it.

The car heads out of the airport, picking up speed as it hits the freeway and she finally breathes.

“You guys okay back there?” The soldier who greeted them turns in the front passenger seat to face them.

They both nod with eyes wide and frightened.

“You okay?” Frankie asks her, still moulded tightly under his arm.

“Yeah. Just a little overwhelmed. That was insane!” Jude whispers back to him.

“Yeah, fuckin’ crazy…” Frankie murmurs.

They’re dropped off with their documents and the soldier informs them he’ll be back tomorrow to escort Frankie to the airport and drop Jude at her parents.

Once inside the safe confines of the Air Bn’b, which is a little apartment, with a double bed and bath tub big enough for them both, they both sit back in the hot bubbly water as Frankie cradles Jude against his chest after washing her hair and listening to her humming and singing her favourite songs. He automatically braids it and she smiles at him over her shoulder.

“Habit,” he replies as she runs her hand down the tight weaves of the braid. He leans forward and kisses her shoulder.

After making a small meal, which they barely manage to eat, they lay in bed together, their limbs knotted and entwined as they kiss and touch and stain their skin with one another.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Jude says to him as the room darkens around them.

“I won’t stay away long.” Frankie confirms.

“Take as much time as you need. Your family will want to spend time with you.”

“It’s gonna be weird not waking up with you in my arms.” Frankie admits after a while of lying there with her and feeling her warm body against his. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

“I know. We’ve not spent a day apart for over a whole year.”

He nods against her head, his chin butting it slightly. “Mm,” he agrees.

“Will you call me when you land?”

“Of course. I’ll call you every day, at least five hundred times.” He smirks into her hair.

“Maybe not five hundred… four hundred and ninety-nine will do just fine.” Jude giggles.

They both laugh and he pulls her closer, breathing out through a stretch and a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” She asks him.

“A little.” He replies through a small sigh. “Been a long day.”

She kisses his forehead delicately, resting against his head as he shuts his eyes.

Frankie opens them momentarily and strokes her face. “Do you have bad dreams?”

“About the island?” Jude asks him.

“Yeah.” He admits timidly.

She nods. “I used to have this nightmare while we were there, that a helicopter came and rescued you, but it left me behind. I could see you flying off in the distance and waving at me. I was running so fast but then you disappeared.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Frankie reaffirms to her.

“I know. It was just a bad dream, right?”

“Right.” He says. His breath smells sweet in her face, scented from the mint of his toothpaste. “I’m coming right back to you, okay?” He promises.

“I know.” Jude says. “Get some sleep, you’ve got another flight again tomorrow.”

He kisses her gently. “Duerme bien, sin pesadillas, hermosa.” (Sleep well, no nightmares, beautiful)

His fingers dance upon her bare skin in the early morning fuzz of the light, and every single touch, even the lightest of touches, makes Jude’s body convulse and react in a way that she never thought possible.

Her body is communicating with him, becoming fluent in his language whilst receiving every part of Frankie that he offers so freely.

His big hands engulf her body, sweeping across the surface of her warm skin and soothing her. Frankie kisses her lips and down her chin, sucking on it before he sweeps under her jaw towards her collarbone.

Licking her nipple and awakening it from a swollen, puffy areola in the warmth of a new day being born across the Big Apple, that flows in from the open window, she hums out deliciously as she stretches around him. He pulls it further into his mouth as her back arches, enjoying the feel of his wet tongue running over it and leaving cool, wet tracks.

“Mmm...” She whines softly into the air with her eyes closed.

Frankie nips it gently making her squeal. He smiles around the hardening bud as he smooches on it gently, carrying on his journey down her body.

His unruly curls tickle against her skin, long and feeling coarse and wiry from being dried out by saltwater and constant sun exposure. Jude runs her hand through it, sweeping it out of the way so she can see those lips and the disruption they cause.

He kisses down her stomach, hooking his fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulls them down over her hips. Frankie has her spread with his whopping hands separating her thighs and pushing them up as makes out with her pussy. Kissing and dipping his adept tongue into her wet folds to taste her as he goes. The clicks of his kisses sounding out are all around her as the flicks and darts of his tongue delve deeper each time he licks her out.

Jude reaches down, raking her fingers through his locks as he looks up at her - those piercing, dark eyes swirling with infecting poison; his lips mashing against her cunt and his tongue flicking over her clit as he sucks around it.

His fingers massage the inner meat of her thighs, gripping and rubbing as he feasts on her, making her body squirm as the tingly pressure on her clit mounts.

“Frankie...” She gasps out as his delicious gnawing begins to intensify and make her toes curl.

She scratches harder at the back of his skull, him grunting into her at the feel of it - those fingers twisting around his hair and tugging as they become knotted in his scalp, sending prickles flooding down his back.

His cock is rock hard, being crushed between his body and the mattress as Jude writhes against his face. He sucks her fleshy lips, popping and squelching out of his greedy mouth before he’ll lick them up again and suckle some more, unable to get enough of her.

“Oh fuck!” She sighs out, her eyes closed and tumbling.

She gyrates her hips around, rocking against his tongue to get the best of him, feeling that pulsing and glitter begin to blind her vision.

“Mmm, don’t stop.” She writhes more intensely now, hearing his gasps around her folds as her legs twitch and her thighs shake uncontrollably. Tasting those wet, fleshy ribbons as he licks up and down, up and down on a repeating cycle that makes her soar.

Her gasps are getting louder, her back arching higher in a dangerous contorted curve as she pants and groans, fisting inside of his hair ferociously that she could almost tear it out.

Her body shakes, rippling as she cries out, reaching down with scrambled, frantic hands and gripping onto his arms as the veins in her neck strain, her eyes roll into the back of her head and her pussy contracts and explodes all over his mouth.

“FRANKIE!”

Frankie sucks harder on her clit, pinching it between his teeth deliberately as she bucks and pulses; her head thrown back into the pillows, the room feeling like it’s spinning faster around her.

She’s out of breath as he licks up and down, planting kisses and his lips knock against her clit, buzzing and making her thighs jolt from the shock of the sensitivity that now crowns it.

He smooches against it delicately, looking up at her and holding her eyes. He kisses the inside of her thigh, nuzzling into it.

Jude beckons him to her and like a slave to his heart and cock alike, he willingly follows. He slowly begins to crawl up her body towards her face. His cock sweeps against the inside of her apex and he’s solid and heavy against it. Precum smears across her skin and feels cooling in the morning breeze.

He leans over her on his arms as he pushes his hips into hers, slipping comfortably inside of her wet, slick hole again as she gasps out for him, her head lifting off the pillow to meet his plush inviting lips.

The island has stripped everything superficial, leaving only raw unfiltered connection, this bond that can’t be broken. Every glance, every touch speaks volumes of shared pain, survival and resilience. It isn't just about love, it's about understanding. They had seen each other at their lowest, held each other through heart-wrenching despair and found strength in their unity.

Words are often unnecessary now; a simple look can convey the deepest of emotions. Her hand slips into his, fingers interlacing with a familiarity that feels ancient, as if they've known each other for lifetimes.

His hand swoops around the back of her head and holds her, keeping her close to him as Frankie slides in and out of her, working up a tantalising rhythm that makes his lips part, his breath coating her face. Deep, indomitable strokes make Jude feel every inch of him - make her remember him.

Frankie curls his fingers around her throat gently, stroking the skin there with his thumb and feeling her groans vibrate against his palm as he kisses down the side of her face, a slew of kisses planted under her jawline.

He flashes back to the countless nights when the fear and hope had danced on the edge of their consciousness, where dreams of rescue seemed distant and elusive. It was during those moments their connection had solidified, becoming an unbreakable anchor in a sea of uncertainty. She was always there, holding him up; her eyes reflecting the hues of the setting sun and sparkling off the ocean waves at him.

He feels it, feels the emotion surge over him and he buries his face into her neck, squeezing away the tears as he scrunches his eyes shut. Frankie can feel her legs tightening around his waist, hanging onto him and taking him so deep into her.

“We made it, I love you. We made it… I love you.” She chants through her gasps and cries.

His head lolls a little, like he can’t handle it any more. His body feeling weak and out of breath and losing his stamina fast. Gasping so hard his throat runs dry and no noise will flow out of it anymore; just those inhaled croaked whispers of oxygen steaming past his teeth.

Jude whimpers as he presses his forehead against hers, his hips still bucking into her deeply; the slick feel of his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, her walls contracting and tightening around him. Gasping out loudly in unified melodies as they swallow each kiss, panting as their bodies slide across one another’s.

“Come for me,” she hears him grunt through his gasps as the slapping of his cock inside her soaked pussy relentlessly hammers.

Squeezing into his skin with her fingers as her body trembles and shakes, she releases, feeling wondrously dizzy.

Frankie slows, winding his hips into her so she can feel him deeply. They stare into one another’s eyes, holding that gaze as they pant and soar together. He cradles her closer to him as he kisses her, feeling how good she feels around him. She squeezes and her body aches, aches for him to never stop.

Her hands are in his hair again, scratching around his scalp and making his head tingle and pulse.

“I love you,” Jude whispers to him and he groans out in response, his body starts to fly.

“I love you, hermosa,” Frankie replies as he mashes his lips to hers and grunts out in a deep, husked whine as he comes deeply inside her, his cock twitching and seeing stars behind his eyelids as she cradles him in her arms.

“We made it.” He pants.

“We made it.” She sighs.

As soon as she knocks on the door, Jude’s engulfed by her parents who won’t let her go out of their strangling grip.

Her mother clutches hold of her as if she might disappear again and her father’s tears betray his own usually composed exterior. The three of them cry all over each other, for what seems like hours on the porch, as Frankie hovers awkwardly until he’s dragged into the throes of it.

He’s plied with copious amounts of coffee, feeling sick to his stomach, whilst they listen horrified and aghast at their tales of sheer grit on the island.

They don’t divulge too much, but it’s enough to render her mother to tears again and her father to shake Frankie’s hand for saving his daughter.

“Actually, she saved me. She’s got bigger balls than I do.” Frankie chuckles, and her father pats him on the back approvingly.

“I like him,” her father says to Jude approvingly.

But hovering over the reunion is the agonising moment when Frankie and Jude will have to part and it's in the looks they give one another as her parents talk and engage with them. It’s in the sinking feeling in Frankie’s gut and the acrid taste at the back of Jude’s throat.

Watching him pull away in the car, waving to her through the window with that giant palm, is like her heart has been ripped out of her chest.

His departure, even if only temporary, leaves a hollow ache. An unsettling thought creeping in about how she can navigate being here without him. She knows she can't.

They had been inseparable for so long, facing every challenge together and now they had to do this one alone. She tries to offer him a smile with her wave, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and she can barely hold on. She wraps her arms around herself trying to stave off the chill despite it being a warm day. Without him, the world is bleak and cold and scary.

Her mother comforts her as best as she can when Jude bursts into tears as the car disappears around the bend in the road at the bottom of the street, but all she does is retreat to her old room that has been left untouched and climbs into bed, crying until she falls into a stunted sleep.

The thought of him being mere inches away from her, let alone nearly a seventeen hour drive away in Florida, is shattering. The absence of Frankie is already felt the moment he’d let go of her hand and she would have given anything at that point to be back with him and in his arms.

Frankie’s flight back to Florida was delayed by a few hours, in a typical prolonged agony. You’d think as the writer of this tale I’d give the poor guy a break, right?

When it touches down eventually at Pensacola International Airport, there is no wild fracas to greet him like at JFK. It’s hauntingly quiet, no journalists, and leaves Frankie on edge a little as he stalks through arrivals on alert. Benny meets him in the terminal.

The sight of his old friend and comrade brings a flood of emotions. Benny’s face breaks into a wide, stupid grin, his arms opening out.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe it, you son of a bitch!” Benny hollers, his voice choked with happiness and relief, as he hugs the fuck out of Frankie, and for a while doesn’t let go.

Frankie smiles ghostly back at him with pink, chapped lips and tired, droopy eyes.

“C’mon, let’s get you home, Fish.”

On the ride back to Benny's place, Frankie’s quiet, contemplative and staring out the window at the familiar surroundings of Pensacola. The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the city, highlighting the palms swaying gently in the breeze.

They pass by the old coffee shop where he and Eddie used to go after the NA meetings and talk about his feelings and cravings. It still has the same faded awning and the neon “open” sign flickering in the window. Frankie can almost taste the bitter, cheap coffee and hear Eddie’s encouraging words again, but the memories feel like they belong to someone else.

“You okay, man?” Benny asks him as he winds his hand round the steering wheel, eyeing Frankie carefully. The car turns into a familiar residential street and he realises Benny still has the same apartment.

“Just weird, you know?” Frankie says, squinting in the sunlight through the window.

“Yeah. You came back from the fuckin’ dead. If that isn’t weird I don’t know what the fuck is, right?” Benny says with a smile draped in disbelief.

In some ways it’s like he had died on that island. Frankie knows a piece of him is still there, still trapped and unable to escape; his feet lodged in the sand that refuses to let go, and without Jude here beside him, he’s daunted at the prospect of truly living again.

A weird feeling considering, before the island, he'd felt dead in some ways too.

Benny explained that he had immediately called all Frankie’s family to inform them all that Frankie was very much alive and well, and was coming home. They had all cried, celebrated and struggled to wrap their heads around it of course, with so many unanswered questions at how he managed to defy all the odds.

“What happened to my apartment in the end?” Frankie queries.

They pull up at a stoplight, and Frankie’s gaze settles on a group of teenagers hanging out in front of the convenience store. They look so young and full of life and potential, even if they aren’t doing anything with it. He remembers being that age, full of dreams and plans to join the military and make something of himself. Now, after everything, those dreams feel so naive and distant.

Benny scratches over his head. “It was sold. We thought you... Well, you know.”

Frankie nods and bites down on his lip.

“You can stay here with me until you find somewhere else. I got you a pull out cot.”

“What about my stuff?”

“Maybe your parents kept some of it, I dunno. The rest is gone, man. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Frankie replies. “It makes sense.”

“You thought about what you’ll need to do, call the bank, shit like that?” Benny asks him. They drive down a quieter neighbourhood, the sidewalk packed full of parked cars.

“Yeah. I’ll do it this week, maybe tomorrow.” Frankie shrugs.

Benny nods, turning the car onto the driveway and he kills the engine. “I got you, Fish. Anything you need.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Frankie smiles.

As Benny leads Frankie up to the door, he feels a weariness settle over him. All he wants to do is find a quiet corner and sleep, to escape the overwhelming swirl of emotions and noise. The journey home, the media attention, the fact that he's left Jude in New York without him, is all too much.

But as they step inside, all those thoughts of sleep are immediately squashed as a cacophony of voices yell out in surprise and greet him.

Faces from his family and friends all blur as they mingle and crowd him, the sound echoing off the walls of sobs and sighs of relief. Pats on the back, hugs into full bosoms. Benny looks a little sheepishly at Frankie and shrugs.

“They all wanted to be here,” he simply says, and Frankie can’t summon the strength to be mad at him for it, he’s just too exhausted.

So he allows himself to be passed around, gripping everyone tight in his arms. Banners and balloons are floating around and the apartment, cramped and small as it is, is filled to the brim with cheers, laughter and the smell of freshly baked food.

He spots Will and freezes. The two men stand facing one another for a moment, the weight of everything they’ve been through during the worst of Frankie’s addiction hanging between them. Then Will steps forward, pulling Frankie into a tight hug and he sags against his friend.

“It’s good to see you, Fish.” Will says into his shoulder. “You look like shit, but it’s damn good to see you.”

He stands there stunned. Frankie hadn’t expected this and although he’s pleased and relieved to see everyone too, he’s not sure if he can handle it all right now.

He looks around the room and at what feels like millions of pairs of enquiring eyes swarming him, lips moving with questions that are repeated and he doesn't hear them all, not fully. It goes on like this for what feels like hours; a tidal wave of gushed hugs, strong drinks being passed around the room in celebration of Frankie’s arrival home and tears from almost everyone.

Phones are ringing off the hook with relatives, friends and well-wishers all keen to speak to him that can't be there, and pass on their love and support. Being pulled this way and that into their arms and shoulders.

He feels like a bumper car, wandering aimlessly around the apartment, bashing into everyone who he comes across, and being pulled into conversations that are on a continual loop about how he managed to survive on the island and come home to them all.

The repetitiveness is exhausting him and overwhelming him in equal measure; it’s akin to being thrust into a plethora of screams and screeches, a black hole of braying deafening pitches, each desperate to reach out and touch him. To tug him here, there and everywhere and to get a piece of him, no matter how small or miniscule.

Around nine PM, Benny clocks the anxious look blooming on Frankie’s face crammed into the furthest end of the couch and seeming incredibly small inside it.

“You alright?” Benny asks him as he spots Frankie leaning on the sink in the kitchen with his eyes closed a few minutes later.

“Just tired,” Frankie replies. "It's a lot."

“Yeah. I get it. Everyone’s amped. Maybe it was a bit much having everyone here at once.” He admits.

“No, it’s cool. I wanted to see ’em. I’ve fuckin’ missed ‘em all.” Although it may have been better in small, contained doses - his head is hammering. “Thanks, man.” Frankie replies, stifling a yawn from escaping with the back of his hand.

“You going to call her?” Benny asks, as he notices Frankie checking his phone again.

Frankie nods and clears his throat, blushing.

“What’s she like?” Benny asks.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Frankie replies looking at him with sincere, watery eyes. “If she hadn't been there, I’d be dead for real.”

“What are you fuckin’ talking to me for then, call her.” Benny says and claps Frankie so hard on the back it winds him a little with the force. “I’ll get everyone going. You look like you might crash.”

He smiles as Benny heads off into the lounge and Frankie lets himself out of the back door into the small, overgrown garden. He dials Jude’s number and it rings a few times before she answers.

“Hey you,” comes her voice down the phone. It sounds relieved and he feels like he finally breathes for the first time since he left her.

“Hi, how are you?” Frankie asks, smiling as he speaks. “I’m sorry. I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

“Don’t ever say sorry for calling me,” Jude says, and he can hear her smiling. “You okay, you sound tired?”

“Yeah, I arrived to a surprise party. Wasn't expecting that. Everyone’s here.”

“I bet that’s nice.”

“Yeah… yeah.” He scratches at the back of his head.

“Or not?” Jude queries and he smiles at how well she can read him, even without seeing him.

“Just a bit much to take in. Tiring, but great.” He says.

They’re quiet on the phone and both laugh at the same time.

“I fuckin’ miss you,” Frankie says to her, the ache in his voice palpable.

“I wish you were here right now, I can’t sleep without you.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna sleep much either.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She enquires.

“I gotta go see my lawyer, talk to the bank, convince them I’m not dead so they give me my money back,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, me too. Fucking sucks dying, right?”

“I need a haircut.” Frankie chirps, running his hand through his long tresses that are down to his shoulders.

“Oh, me too. But, I’m going to miss your mop head.” She muses.

“I’m going to miss braiding your hair.”

“I won’t get it cut too short then.”

“Good,” he replies smiling as he wanders around the garden. He slings his free hand into his pocket.

There’s another silence between them.

“I want you here with me,” Frankie admits to her.

“I wish I was so badly right now.”

“I’m tempted to fly back to you.” Frankie admits, already trying to work it out in his head.

“I know, but your family needs you. And so does mine for a little bit.” She explains. “My mom is a mess.”

“Yeah,” Frankie replies, his back sagging a little.

“Have you watched the news yet?”

“No.”

“We’re on it. They got us at the airport.” Jude explains. “The news just keeps showing it over and over… feels really surreal.”

“Figures. They’ll wanna talk to us at some point.” Frankie explains, sniffing in deep.

“I know.” The tone in her voice is flat.

“We can wait, okay? Do it when we’re ready.”

“I just wanna kiss you right now.” Jude whines.

“Fuck, Jude. Stop it, or I will get on that fuckin’ plane.” Frankie warns, feeling the ache inside his gut and loins alike.

“I need you, Frankie. I’ll always need you. You know that right?”

Frankie smiles as he stops walking around the garden. “I love you,” he says to her down the phone.

“I love you, more.” She says to him and he chuckles.

“Don’t fight me on this.” He smirks.

His name is called from somewhere in the house.

“I gotta go.”

“Go back to your family.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Can’t wait.” Jude smiles down the phone.

“Fish!” his voice is called again, and after hanging up and taking a calming deep breath, Frankie wanders back inside. He searches for the voice calling him and is met with a concerned look on Benny’s face.

“I didn’t know she was coming, man.”

Frankie spots Will, nursing a beer and laughing at something a woman who stands beside him says. She drops her wrist from his shoulder and the whole room goes silent except for the familiar tinny jangle of bracelets that have always adorned her wrist.

He watches in slow motion as Carla’s eyes land on him, widening a little and a small smile turns her lips upwards at him. A wave of her palm and then she’s walking over to him, and Frankie’s rooted to the spot. Unable to move or hear anything except the clattering beats of his blood pulsing in his ears.

“Frankie,” she murmurs softly.

He simply nods at her and tries to force a smile he knows he should give her. There was a time he smiled for her a lot. He remembers the early days, the memories stuffing themselves in between his ears, even if he doesn't want them to right now. The laughter they shared, the plans they made. They had fallen in love so quickly, so frivolously.

There were memories of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, spontaneous road trips and the way she used to look at him like he was her whole world. But then there were lies, secrets and shame. Frankie tries to forget them and bury them deep because that was a different Frankie, it had to be.

He remembers the lies he told her about his addiction, the late nights when he promised he was working, but was actually out scoring coke. He remembers her worried eyes, her pleas for him to get help, her face coming into a fuzzy view at the hospital when he woke up after the overdose.

He remembers his stubborn denial and digging his heels in. The fights, the arguments and the day he finally caved and told her he was done. And then he’d gotten on that damned plane. Leaving her and their history and pain behind and thrown up in the air, and it’s all here now, confronting him like a tidal wave, and he’s drowning right in front of her.

“When I heard the news, I-” She trails off unsure of what to say, and again, he just simply nods. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, it's uh… it's good to see you.” Frankie says.

And it is, in some bittersweet way; she looks good, healthy. A sheen in her eyes and a tan on her skin. They stand there for a moment, the silence stretching out between them.

“Listen, I… it’s not the right time, but we need to talk.” Carla says, offering a weak smile to him.

“Talk about what?” Frankie asks.

He feels the weight of their shared past hanging around them, thick in the cool conditioned air in Benny’s apartment. She looks at him, a mixture of sadness and relief in her eyes. And something else he can’t quite put his finger on, guilt perhaps?

“I’m sorry,” Frankie says, his own guilt pressing hard on the back of his tongue.

She baulks clearly not expecting it.

“For everything… For lying to you. For hurting you.” He says. And he is, part of him will always be sorry for it.

She reaches out, touching his arm gently, and he flinches.

“I know, Frankie. I just… I wish things had been different.”

His legs feel weak as he stands there before her, offering her an apology that’s long overdue, and yet hearing the words flow out of his mouth doesn't do it justice somehow.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Carla says, her voice trembling. “After we broke up… I didn't know how to tell you, and then you were gone, and it got so messy and I didn’t know what to do-”

“Carla-”

She takes a deep breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “Frankie, you’re…”

“What? What is it?” His mind races with a thousand thoughts and scenarios, but the one he doesn’t expect is the one she ultimately breaks him with.

She speaks again, the wobble in her voice sounding the words out clear and unmistakeable. “Frankie, you’re a father.”

To be continued...

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Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

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Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged/commented on/re-blogged my initial teaser & prologue:

@suzdin @missladym1981 @millennial-teenybopper @legendary-pink-dot @msjarvis

@tightjeansjavi @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @sin-djarin

@rhoorl @disassociation-daydreams @quinnnfabrgay @chronically-ghosted @fuckyeahdindjarin

@chiriwritesstuff @copperhalfcent @bluestar22x @5oh5 @gobaaby-blog-blog

@myloveistoolittle @pastawench @maggiemayhemnj @secretelephanttattoo @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@thethirstwivesclub @seratuyo @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @toomanytookas @survivingandenduring

@lizzie-cakes @sawymredfox @iloveenya @elegantduckturtle @covetyou

@undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere @trulybetty @nerdieforpedro @thisneozonerecs

@sir-thisisadndserver @goodwithcheese @anavatazes @doughmonkey @lilmizmoz

@76bookworm76

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst #adrift with you series #jett's writing

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save-the-villainous-cat · 23 days

Note

okokok how abt a wlw vampire villain x human hero. pls cat. DO IT FOR THE GIRLYS WHO ARE GIRLY FOR OTHER GIRLYS!

The blood was dripping down her fingers and even though she couldn’t help but feel relieved, her hand was shaking. It had gotten worse. She had become more violent. The last little traces of her humanity were slipping through her fingers like sand.

It was horrifying. She looked down at the bodies, three bankers in total who’d been on their way to lunch. Her mind couldn’t comprehend how she’d done it.

How she had ripped out their throats to feed on the fresh blood.

“What a mess…” she mumbled to herself as she went through her hair. Her hand was bloody. “Oh, fuck.”

“Leave the bodies to me.” The vampire turned around upon hearing her voice.

She could count herself lucky that her nemesis was beginning to fancy her. One night when she had captured the vampire, the “imprisonment” had turned into an almost three hour long conversation about mortality and the curse of being a vampire.

The vampire guessed she pitied her.

“No…it’s not your job to clean up after me.”

“I offered to get you some blood donations but I failed to deliver them to you on time. This is on me.”

The vampire shook her head. She felt stronger than a few hours ago and yet, her muscles were aching from the fight.

“No, it’s not the same. Blood from a bag isn’t the same. This is my fault. I need to hunt, I need living, breathing prey. Oh God, I’m so doomed.” She felt the frustration crawl up her throat. She felt like throwing up.

“Hey, deep breaths,” the heroine said. She grabbed the vampire’s elbows and turned her away from the bodies. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner but I can guarantee we’re working on this together.”

“I’m a monster.” The vampire hid her face behind her hands. “What am I doing? Why did this happen to me?”

“Hey, sometimes shit happens and you can’t really—”

“I was a normal girl, I had an office job for Christ’s sake. I deserved a good normal, boring life.” She frowned and her lips trembled. “I didn’t want anything extraordinary.”

Suddenly, the heroine took her hands.

“Hey, I know it’s a lot and you’re still getting used to this. But I believe this happened for a reason. I know you will find a way to deal with this and I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

The vampire lowered her hands and looked at their saviour, little fangs peeking through her lips.

“I’m so scared.”

“There’s no need to be. You’re brilliant. You’re—”

The vampire knew why. She knew why she grabbed the heroine, nails digging hard enough into her skin to leave marks. She knew why saliva gathered in her mouth and why she needed to bite her.

The heroine’s pulse had gone wild when they’d gazed each other. The vampire had heard and felt it.

But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t press her teeth into her like she was some kind of meat. She couldn’t do that to her, she couldn’t kill her like that.

Right before her teeth could scrape her skin, the vampire froze.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her grip finally loosened and the heroine seemed to breathe for the first time. She was blushing and her heart was beating relentlessly.

The vampire could barely keep it together.

“You— you should leave,” the heroine said. “I’ll, uh, report this mess and take care of it. Call me.”

Unfortunately for the heroine, the vampire knew she’d been a little too attracted to that.

#dream guest on my podcast?#sorry for mistakes #didn’t read over it cuz I’m on VACAY #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #wlw #human x vampire #vampirexhuman #vampire villain

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yuikomorii · 7 months

Text

// I’m making this post, as a result of seeing way too much hate and misinfo regarding every character. Nobody stops anyone from voicing their opinion but the need to degrade a character, while providing BAD reasons or stating incorrect/out-of-context facts about them only for the sake of internet validation, is such a loser move.

We’re all in this fandom to have fun and even if you have something negative to say about a character you don’t like, keep it to yourself or in private with your friends.

Ayato:

“I don’t like Ayato, he’s overrated”, omg you’re just sooo different! Definitely not like other girls/guys!

Everyone is allowed to dislike whatever they want but if Ayato is your least/one of your least favorite DL characters, then your opinion ISN’T valid. This is a franchise full of abusive characters and he’s literally the most heroic love interest. Why would you hate the hero…?

“He’s dumb and annoying”, says the person who spends their time insulting FICTIONAL characters. 1) Japanese fans like dumb characters, since they come off as endearing; 2) Ayato outdid everyone throughout the routes.

He did more good than all of his brothers and saying that X, Y or Z deserves the main role more, is fake fan behavior because at this point you’re just setting up your favs.

Kanato:

No, you’re not cool for calling him ugly. It’s okay if you’re not into that type of characters but his design is not bad at all.

“He had no development”, he does in CL. It’s not major but it can still be visible.

The whole Teddy thing might be annoying to some of you, but his fans get why he acts that way. Let’s not forget that he is a victim of neglect.

Yes, he was sexually exploited too. Don’t forget this x2.

Laito:

“I hate Laito so much, he was so cruel in HDB 😢”; stop living in the past and move on already.

His development shouldn’t be overlooked only because your opinion about him was formed on something that came out more than 10 years ago.

He’s still the most fascinating DL character and I get that he might make some of you feel uncomfortable but don’t project your triggers on a character that’s merely made after a trope.

Shu:

No, it’s not Shu’s fault for the way Reiji acted. Envy is never a good reason to hurt someone.

“Shu roasts the heroine the most!”, I get that it’s rude but his insults are actually funny?? A bunch of people will like him for being brutally honest or a jerk because it’s literally a game for players with masochistic fantasies. They WANT to be roasted by good-looking men. That’s the point.

“Shu is lazy and stupid, he’s the only one who failed his school year”, genuine question: If you were an immortal creature that doesn’t need food or sleep to survive, would you still care about grades? Besides, he’s really smart.

“Shu doesn’t care about Yuma, he just feels guilty”, in LE he sacrificed himself for him and reincarnated merely because he wished to meet Yuma again and get on well with him in another life—

Reiji:

“He hurt Shu and Yuma”, well yeah but he was shown plenty of times regretting it and trying to fix things. Stop reminding this to Reiji stans because that conflict is already closed.

“He is so mean in other routes”, obviously?? If you don’t teach him how to love, he won’t suddenly act nice towards anyone.

Without him Yui would fail her tests and the Sakamaki household would be in chaos.

Subaru:

“W-What do you mean baby Tsundere is not soft innocent virgin boy? 🥺”; he has never been like that, that’s how YOU perceived him. Stop acting so shocked every time Subaru does something bad because he’s still a vampire after all??

Also, why are so many people reducing his character to Kou and/or Yui—? He’s much more than that and has his own interests, struggles, likes, dislikes, and so on.

“He’s irrelevant”; Diabolik Lovers has 13 love interests, they can’t make everyone extremely important to the general plot. Just enjoy a character as it is, it’s not that hard.

Ruki:

The cat jokes were funny when the Meow Meow Vampire art came out but MOVE ON. I hate that scene and Ruki was in the wrong but come on now, that’s not even the worst thing he has done and MB happened in 2013.

I understand not liking Ruki as a person, because he’s mostly not a good one, but this doesn’t mean he’s not a good character.

“Ruki deserved what happened to him in the past because he was cruel towards everyone”; while I agree that Karma hit him, I wouldn’t say any child really deserves to go through that. He was just a spoiled brat, who most likely wasn’t taught by his parents about modesty or kindness.

Kou:

“He was so cruel in MB 😣”, and HE HAD DEVELOPMENT! He’s not the same anymore, nobody is.

“He overreacts”, sometimes he’s not in the wrong and has all rights to be angry.

Kou isn’t afraid of going against Ruki, even if he’s the brother he admires the most, as long as he knows that what Ruki is doing isn’t good.

Yuma:

“He beat Yui up in the MB bad ending!😡😡”, it’s a bad ending for a reason, lol.

Pretty reminder that Yuma always tries to help others with Kou and Azusa, and was even willing to save the ghouls in LE.

“Yuma doesn’t care about Shu”, did we play the same game or…?

Azusa:

“Azusa is so horrible, he threw Teddy in the fire!”; and he only did it to save Yui, it was not intentional.

While not all his actions are good, keep in mind that he never means any harm and is overall such a sweet guy.

“He is too clingy”; I know that might not be everyone’s cup of tea but is it really worth hating a character just for wanting affection?

The Tsukinamis and Kino:

“They were too easy to defeat in DF!”; Dark Fate wasn’t entirely about them to begin with. Most routes focused on the boys’ internal struggles with their trauma and how to move past it.

“Kino is sometimes mean for the sake of being mean”; it’s almost as if he’s the ✨villain✨

It’s dumb questioning the morals of characters supposed to have an antagonistic role.

“Kino hurt Ayato in LE”; out of all characters who have wronged Ayato, at least Kino felt bad and wanted to apologize.

Yui:

“She’s dumb and ugly”; Japanese fans literally love her for being an idiot because it wouldn’t be fun to see the heroine being the best at everything or not making mistakes at all. Plus, her design is definitely not ugly.

Stop creating your own version of Yui in your head and ending up disappointed when she doesn’t act the way you expect her to. No, Yui is not OOC for liking being bitten, having a low learning ability or saying things she shouldn’t in the wrong moments. Nobody is perfect and everyone has their own kinks and flaws.

“She’s too innocent”; she’s not?? If you really want to see her thirsty, go play Ayato’s routes, especially the heaven scenarios.

“She’s weak”, she’s the opposite. Yui is one of the most mentally strong DL characters.

I can’t understand people who hate on heroines when they’re present in all routes and are the most positive characters.

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami #carla tsukinami #shin tsukinami #kino #dialovers #admin

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cranberryjuice-posts · 3 months

Text

- New York romantic -

Pairings - College! Gwen Stacy x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - secrete relationship with the one and only Spiderwoman

TW! - honestly probably OCC gwen

An - this is based more on her comic book age (I wanna preface this by saying I’ve only read one ghost spider comic and I’ve watched the ITSV and ATSV movies plus the other Spiderman movies multiple times) // (Gwen is like 19-20 in this)

— also yes this is kinda based off the Eros and Psyche myth

You looked down at the busy streets bellow you. Letting out a deep breath the smoke from your lungs left your body.

“You know That’s bad for you right?” A sweet voice spoke behind you. Turning your head to the side you playfully rolled your eyes at seeing Spider-woman.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking over the city for a crime?” You tested the waters while taking another drag from the cigarette.

The stronger woman walked over to you taking the cig from your hand. “Dropping your cigarette ash counts as littering and hate to break it to ya but that’s a crime”

“Shut up” You laughed lifting up her mask slightly, placing a kiss on her Rosy lips. She wrapped her arms around your waist helping to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back you traced her chapped lips with your finger. “Your blushing”

“No I’m not”

“Your nose does that scrunching thing when you are”

Her sigh of defeat only made your pride grow. You’ve been secretly dating New Yorks one and only Spiderwoman for the past nine months. One thing that plagued your mind however was how secret she was being about her identity.

Whenever she would stay the night you could never face her when cuddling. Dates were rare, only happening at midnight and a picnic at the top of some building. Whenever you both were spending time together She would keep her mask on. Did you like the secretiveness of it all, no not really.

Making your way down the fire escape and entering through your window you helped your lover in. She immediately stripped out of her hero suit and into her standard sports bra and sweats. “So much better” she complained while flopping down onto your bed.

You chuckled softly walking over to her. Sitting down beside the masked woman you started to draw circles on her back. “Everything ok spider bite?”

“Peachy” she grumbled.

“My poor baby” bending down you kissed her cheek, the only part of her face you ever got to saw was bellow the nose and even then it was only for a kiss. “I’ll go make you some tea—“

As you tried to get up she grabbed you by the hips forcing you to lay down beside her. “Don’t.. it’s late can we just rest” her tone practically begging.

You gave her a soft smile, it’d be cruel to not agree. You turned off the lamp beside your bed enveloping the entire room in darkness. With your phone on your vanity face down, the only sound was The heroine taking her mask off.

Letting out a tired sigh she kissed your lips. “Night babe”

“Night” You mumbled. She quickly cuddled up to you, falling asleep almost instantly.

———

You felt like you were choking. Waking up from a nightmare you sat up gasping trying to regain your breath. Once you calmed down your eyes drifted over to the sleeping form of your lover. Reaching out you gently pushed her hair to the side.

Guilt took over your body. You wanted no needed to see what she looked like. Nobody could understand what it was like, being the woman you love but not allowed to see her face. All you wanted was to love her for all her beauty not just her body and personality.

Debating for a while you sucked it up, grabbing your phone you opened the screen, using the dim light to aluminate her face.

You almost dropped your phone. What you saw was Gwen—- Gwen fucking Stacy. The Chemistry major at your college as well as a local Legenden for being in the MaryJanes. The sweet confident yet shy woman, the same woman who you hung out with on a daily basis. Every time you invited Gwen over for a hangout you had been in reality inviting your girlfriend over.

The phone finally slipped from your grasp. Before you could grab it it slammed into Gwen’s face. She sat up annoyed rubbing her cheek. Spewing out an apology you turned on the lamp without realizing trying to make sure she was ok. You touched her face hoping a bruise wouldn’t form.

The gig was up. You knew Gwen knew you had secretly looked at her face. You expected to Gwen have a look of anger instead you faced a look of disappointment. She didn’t say anything only quickly getting out of the bed and putting her long discarded suit back on.

“Gwen pl—“

“Don’t” she turned around. Standing close she held a finger out. “How many times did you go behind my back and look at me.”

“Only this once you have to believe me” with a tone of desperation you grabbed her hand.

Gwen just pulled her hand from you, continuing to dress herself.

“Well what was I supposed to do” you asked. “Do you understand how painful it is to not ever see the face of the woman I love?! I’ve seen every inch of your goddamn body but your face! I love you Gwen it broke me knowing I would never know what you looked like”

She still didn’t respond, her silence was supposed to punish you. “We’re done, and if you know better you’ll keep your mouth shut about who I am”

Before you could argue Back she lept out of the window, swinging off to god knows where.

Of all the stupid decisions you made this took the list. Practically running to your bed you grabbed your phone calling Gwen.

Voicemail

For fucks sake. Calling her repeatedly each time going to voicemail after the first ring. Laying back down on the now empty and cold bed you felt yourself starting to cry, the hot tears staining your face and pillow.

———

The following week was like torture. Gwen avoided you at every turn and the classes you shared she skipped.

Once you went to the MaryJanes practice and Gwen forced MJ to kick you out. She could try to avoid you all she wanted but you knew deep down she still loved you. The same heroine you fell fore still wanted to be with you.

You left the corner store with a bag of Gwen’s favorite snacks. The only place that had her favorite candy was in the crime district. Over looking them you mentally thought out a plan for an apology basket to take to her tonight. If you hadn’t fucked up it would of been your ten month anniversary..

Being distracted wasn’t something you wanted in downtown New York Especially not at night. Before you realized it you were harshly grabbed and thrown into an alleyway.

You fell to the dirty ground, rolling over some you winced in pain at your bruising arm. You turned your head quickly to face your attacker who wore a cheesy Super hero plastic mask and hoodie.

He reached out pinning grabbing and pinning you against the wall. “Your Spiderwomans Lil bitch huh?! Yeah Ive Seen You Both” He sadistically laughed with a knife pressed to your throat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m sor—“

“Bullshit!” He pressed the knife deeper to your neck. “Now your gonna be a good girl and tell me her fuckin identity ok, my boss would really appreciate it” You felt your body start to go frozen you couldn’t speak let alone move— the only thing in your mind was getting free, and Gwen. The world paused. The only was to describe it was your life flashed before your eyes.

Coming back to reality you realized nothing happened. The man who tried to assault you was laying on the ground bloodied with an angry looking woman standing over him. Yelling curses at him as he crawled away.

Facing you Spiderwoman or as you knew now Gwen dropped down beside you pulling you into a hug. “Are You ok?! What did he do” she urgently asked while holding your face

In that moment very moment everything snapped. You broke down in your Ex’s arms, pulling her close into you. She didn’t saw anything only tightening the hug so you wouldn’t feel alone.

Gwen brought you back to your apartment. Going in through the usual window, like the thousands of times before. She sat you down onto your bed still searching your face and body for physical wounds.

Making the decision that the only injury was the stress to your throat she grabbed a first aid kit and began to wrap you up.

As she placed the bandaid on your neck you slowly reached out cupping her face. Both of you stopped, just looking at each other. You slid off her mask tossing it aside, you could tell by her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks she had been crying to.

“I’m.. so so sorry please I need you to understand that I love you Gwen, all of you. I just couldn’t stand being in the dark anymore though” you felt your eyes starting to tear up.

Gwen just placed her hands on your thighs comfortingly rubbing them. She took a moment of silence before leaning up and kissing your cheek. “I know” was all she mumbled.

You pushed back a strand of her blonde hair wanting to see her face even if it was for the last time. “This is my fault” Gwen started, her voice cracking. “I wasn’t careful enough, I didn’t take into consideration people would see me come into your window, I didn’t think someone would stalk and attack you.”

“And You don’t have to” You dropped her before she could continue. “Nobody knows anything about us, people who ask I tell them their seeing shit” “Gwen I want to be with you no matter what happens, i want to be allowed to love you like this than when your masked up” the entire time you spoke not once did you break eye contact.

She nodded looking down for a moment. Pulling you to the edge of the bed she kissed you gently, letting the kiss repeat a few times before breaking it. There was a sense of hesitation in the air.

Your eyes traced over each others features only for a moment before you started to kiss her once again. Both your heads tilted to give one another an easier way to kiss. Pulling back for some air Gwen stood up, changing out of her suit and into a pair of pajamas she had at your place.

She crawled into bed and brought you close to her. Both just looking in one another’s eyes. “I love you”

“I love you too”

#lesbian #wlw #gwen stacy #spider gwen #spider gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #spider woman #gwen stacy x you #spiderman #across the spiderverse

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deleteddewewted · 7 months

Note

Breaking news! Pro heroine calls boyfriend daddy in public!

You can choose who, and whether on accident or purpose

Hawks x Fem! Reader

NSFW

W: Fem! Reader, Hawks, Teasing, Hawks does have butt feathers, he's silky smooth, Fingering, Public Sex, Daddy kink, Sub! Hawks, Dom! Reader

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

You had been teasing him since early morning. He woke up hard as a rock and wanted to fuck it out of his system but you had him punished for his misbehavior the day prior. You didn't grant him relief, just stimulation. You let him fuck between your thighs but didn't let him cum. You told that if he wanted he could wear a cock ring and plug if it made it any easier on him. He agreed and he promised he would be good today since he wanted to so desperately fuck you.

"Baby you dont get it. I need you. I don't think I can go the entire day without touching or even rubbing one out at the thought of you." He whined. He had his arms wrapped around you, his head placed in between your neck and shoulder.

You were standing outside and were taking a break from patrolling so he could mope. The original plan was to grab something to eat but he decide he wanted to just stand around and whine about how cruel you were to him.

"Continue with that attitude and you won't get to cum till tomorrow night, baby." He groaned at your remark and just kept his mouth quiet.

A group of fans flacked up to you and asked for autographs and photos. Neither of you denied them their requests, the attention was good for PR since being seen out and about as a couple would help solidify your relationship publicly.

"H/n! Whats it like to date the #2 hero?"

"Are the rumors true? Does the carpet match the drapes when it comes to Hawks?"

"Do you both ever plan to marry?" Multiple people shouted out at the same time, many of them insistently demanding an answer.

You merely shook your head and laughed to yourself about how ridiculous the entire thing was. But you decided that maybe you could use this opportunity to have some fun. Maybe mess with Hawks since no one truly knew what he was like in regards to his personal life.

"I can assure you that, daddy here, has the prettiest butt feathers anyone has ever seen." You joked.

The crowd all began to squeal at the new, but fake, information about your boyfriend and proceeded to ask even more questions. Some caught on to your use of the name "daddy" and insisted you talk about what other pet names you had for each other.

Typically, a coming like this would have him squawking out at you or at the person who made the comment but he stayed silent. Instead, when you turned your head to face him you noticed his face was bright red. He coughed and excused himself but not before you noticed that he had grown a bulge. You held in a laugh before excusing yourself from the crowd and following closely behind Hawks.

"Oooh birdie~. Where are you~?" You teased.

Hawks flapped his wings at the petname before sending you a glare and proceeding to walk away from you.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" You knew that shiver that ran down his spine wasn't from the wind.

You got closer to him, grabbed him by his jacket, and made sure to press him against the closest wall. He let out a gasp as the rough surface met his back and whimpered when you pressed your knee against his crotch.

"Come on, Daddy~. Tell me what's bothering you." You started to kiss his neck and opened up his pants zipper so your hand could slip in.

"Fu-ck~." He couldn't help but groan as you began to stroke him.

He rolled his hips towards your hand and whined when you teased his tip with the top of your finger. You pulled down his pants and underwear and spat on your hand before wrapping it around his now-exposed length. He tried closing his legs, the cold air making goosebumps appear on his skin, but you didn't allow him to. Instead, you made sure to push them further apart and used your free hand to slowly circle and prode his hole.

"Baby, please~ I can't- I'm gonna cum if you keep touching me like that." His voice shook as he spoke but he didn't stop you.

You finally inserted a finger inside of him and slowly pushed it in and out of him all while you slowly kissed up his neck and eventually his lips.

"Fuck~, please. Mommy, please~" He felt his eyes roll back all while you continued to fuck him open with your fingers. You swallowed all of his moans and whined as you kissed him, at some point shoving your tongue into his mouth just to get him to quiet down.

You added a third finger once you knew he was close to cumming and vigorously trusted them inside him. He choked on his own moans and scratched at your back as he tried stabilizing himself. His legs gave out under him and used you to support himself up. He felt so good as he felt your fingers curl inside him and rub against his inner walls.

"Come on, Daddy. I know you can be good and cum for me." You pulled at the feathers above his ass and watched as he let out a scream.

You added one last finger and thrust it as deep as his body would let you. He came all over himself, his clothes, and the wall he was leaning on. His legs shook and gave out beneath him as you took them out of him.

"You did such agood job for me, Daddy~" You chuckled as you watched him struggle to catch his breath and dress himself. His pants were ruined and there was no way for him to walk out without people knowing what had just happened between you two.

#bnha hawks #hawks #dd speaks #bnha #mha #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks bnha #hawks mha #sub hawks #mha hawks #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo tamaki #mha takami keigo #bnha keigo

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sixzeroes · 1 year

Text

walltalk.

summary | na jaemin has always been the bane of your existence—but he’s also been the centre of your sexual desires.

characters | villain!jaemin x hero!reader(f).

genres | smut, pwnp, bnha au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, brief description of blood, jaemin talks about murdering reader, slight hostage situation, sex, rough sex?, mentions of blowjob, use of ‘princess,’ giselle (and ten) lowkey cockblocking at the end.

word count | 2.2k.

so, this was actually posted on one of my old accounts before i decided to delete that and move here without anyone knowing. it did get around 400 notes, so if you recognise this, i am the original writer of it!! i don’t associate myself with that account or pseudonym anymore, but i just couldn’t let this one sit in my files so yeah :))

YOU CAN’T DIE YET.

It’s too early to bid goodbye to the world. There are many things you’ve yet to experience, and millions of people cheering you on. You still need to reach the number one spot. You still need to watch the new Disney movie releasing next week. You still need to try out the mint chocolate fusion that’s been the craze the past few days. You still need to travel to Greece and admire the Athena Parthenon. You still need to—

Bottom line is, there’s hundreds of thousands of reasons as to why your life must be prolonged. You’re a heroine, and your career has just begun.

No, you truly can’t die yet.

But Na Jaemin seems to think the opposite.

The room—prison—you’re confined to is dark, only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the barred window. In the middle of the room stands a chair, a blond man sitting with his chest against the back. His arms cross over the top rail, one foot tapping against the ground in a rather erratic rhythm. His all-too-familiar smile is terrifying, and you resist shuddering under his wicked gaze.

“Maybe I’ll slit your throat,” he muses, watching your every action. Ice forms along his hand, creating a claw-like silhouette in the dim light. You gulp, a little intimidated by his power.

“As if I’d let you,” you huff, sharpening your glower to prove his presence isn’t feared. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

That’s a huge lie. Both you and Jaemin know it. The blonde laughs at your revelation, the ice melting off of his skin. It hits the ground—drip, drip—and forms a puddle at his feet. “Your courage hasn’t changed, Y/N, but neither has the gap between you and I. You may be dubbed a strong hero, but you know better than everyone that you can’t beat me.”

He hasn’t stabbed you yet, but the harsh reality of his words burn a humiliating pain in your heart.

“What use is strength if your intelligence can’t keep up?” you sneer, referring to your high school era just like he had. “Don’t forget, you were always second to me in every theoretical exam.”

You barely flinch when an icicle crumbles against the wall beside your head. The skin over your left cheekbone breaks apart into a cut, a thin stream of blood tracing the curve of your face. Jaemin tosses the chair away, the loud bang leaving a ringing in your ears. He’s mad, and it’s because of you.

You can’t die yet, but you’re about to.

Fuck. All because you refused to follow Ten’s suicidal mission. Well, it’s not like yours isn’t life-threatening either, but there’s less lives getting claimed.

“You know, you always pissed me off,” growls Jaemin, crouching in front of you. Even though he’s left you untied, you make no move to attack him in hopes of escaping. And that’s the thing—you can’t escape, and you know. He knows. Na Jaemin is too strong for you to outrun.

You spit, “The feeling’s mutual.”

There’s no way you and Jaemin could ever get along with each other, much less develop feelings opposite to the word hate. In high school, it was always a battle between the two of you. Na Jaemin—first in practical exams, second in theoretical. And you—first in theoretical exams, second in practical. To be frank, the two of you would’ve been a formidable pair if it wasn’t for his egoistic attitude and your competitive personality. If it was doubtful then, it’s impossible now.

After all, Jaemin’s become the very villain he once wished to eradicate.

“I saw you on television, all your interviews, the blurry cuts of you fighting. Made me wanna wipe that stupid smile off of your fucking face.”

The rivalry between you and Jaemin wasn’t unnoticed by your peers during the three years of high school. But what most failed to detect was the sexual tension that brimmed beneath the surface of the enmity.

“I saw you too, on Wanted posters.” you hiss, wiping the blood on your cheek. It’s a little dried. “Looking all smug for a hero turned evil.”

Jaemin chuckles, prodding his inner cheek with his tongue. He looks to the side, then he glares straight into your eyes. “What can I say? The criminals are less corrupt than the righteous hero industry.” The blond man mimics quotation marks with his hand at the word righteous. “You, too, are a waste as a hero. Why don’t you join me? Wipe the damn system and build a new one from scratch. Doyoung doesn’t bite, you know. He likes pretty girls like you. I do, too.”

You don’t retaliate with phrases that glorify the hero industry. Jaemin’s right, albeit you refuse to outright acknowledge it. Instead, you snap, “Fuck you.”

He licks his lips. “Is that consent?”

Yes. “No.”

Your head jerks backwards as Jaemin grabs your face with force, a throb lingering from the impact against the wall. His fingers dig into your cheeks, thumb dipped in your drying blood. Your hands grip his forearm and he tugs you forwards, decreasing the proximity between his face and yours. It’s faint, but a peach scent surrounds the man.

Jaemin runs his thumb against your lips, and a metallic taste overrides your senses. “I’ll ask again, Y/N. Is”—he parts your lips with the push of his thumb—“that”—his nail grazes your tongue—“consent?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Before you can release the entire breath, his hand wraps around your throat in a rough yet careful choke. With brute strength, Jaemin lifts you onto your feet, your knees buckling at the sudden exertion. There’s no time to adjust as his lips latch onto yours, snagging whatever oxygen you have left. He’s always been impatient, and even during foreplay, he shows no patience.

Your heavy pants fill the silence as he devours your lips, his tongue sliding against your tongue. Your lips that were chapped are now moist, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips. His empty hand situates itself on your hip, and you gasp when he runs it up under your shirt.

“Would’ve been sexier if you had your flimsy costume on,” he muttered against your lips. “Always wanted to strip you of that red abomination.”

“Sh—Shut up,” you groan, his hand grasping your breast. Your eyes flutter when he pushes aside your bra and pinches your nipple. The act leaves your core throbbing, aching for more. “Fuck, finger me.”

Jaemin kisses your chin. “If you blow me after, sure.”

You make the effort to glare at him. “I fucking hate y—oh.” Your jaw slacks as he shoves the hand on your neck into the warmth of your underwear, knuckles grazing the damp fabric.

“So wet, princess,” he jeers, using the nickname you loathed during the start of your youth. “I wonder who you’re so aroused for?”

“Jeno, obviously,” you scoff, and Jaemin pulls away from you, his touch leaving your skin. “Wh—hey!”

The blonde distances himself from you, licking his fingers clean of your essence. “Hm?” he hums, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not about to fuck a girl who’s got another man’s name on her mind.”

You lean against the wall for support. “Holy fuck, you’re so lame.”

“Run to Jeno, then.”

Fuck. You swallow his saliva from the messy kiss, and with it, your pride. “Shit. Fine, I’m sorry. Can you fuck me now? I’ll even suck your dick.”

Jaemin beams, and it has your pussy dripping. “Of course! Since my princess asked so nicely,” he sings, daintily taking your hands in his. Your heart stutters as he places gentle kisses along your knuckles, and then the pad of your fingers. It’s sweet, until he throws your hands up and restrains them against the wall with ice.

“How pretty,” he muses, trailing his pointer finger down your cheek. Jaemin bunches your shirt and bra so it sits atop your chest, revealing your bare breasts. You shiver from the chill, but are warmed right away when his hands roam your torso. A gasp rips from your throat when the man teases your pants down, sliding two long fingers into your cunt. Soft and shaky moans tumble from your lips, prompting Jaemin to move his fingers. His thumb—the blood clad one—circles your clit, fingers pulsing in and out of you with ease. He’s cruel, dragging the tip of his digits against the soft flesh of your walls.

As Jaemin fingers you, he seals your lips with his once again in a breathless kiss. Your tongue meshes with his, teeth clashing every so often. One hand returns to your neck, laying at the base in a tough hold. “Oh—” you mewl, “I’m so—”

Jaemin removes his fingers, and you fall limp, the restraints preventing you from crumpling to the floor. Your mind is hazy, but you manage to say, “You’re such a bitch.”

“Mhm, I am, princess.” he coos, unbuckling the belt looped around his jeans. Like you, he’s in casual attire, having dressed in civilian clothing when kidnapping you in the mall. He unzips the fly, head thrown back as he frees his hard dick. You whimper, biting your lower lip at the sight. “Aren’t you so honest?”

“Fuck,” you groan, touch-deprived. “It’s huge.”

“Can you make a condom?” he asks, slapping his length against your bare stomach. The precum smears all over your pretty skin. “I didn’t bring one, and I’d rather not get you pregnant.”

Jaemin’s either dumb or clever for relying on you to whip out protection. But you obey, formulating a packaged condom with whatever lipids left in your body. It pops out of your arm, and Jaemin catches it with a lopsided grin. He rips the packet open with his teeth, tossing the foil aside whilst rolling the plastic over his dick. You watch, counting down the seconds until he’s inside.

“Are you ready?” he whispers, lips grazing your ear.

“…Yes.”

Your answer is all he needs as he pushes into you, easily slipping in with the help of your lubrication. You release a shaky moan, eyes rolling back from pure pleasure. Jaemin hauls one of your legs over his bicep, and he catches your face in his hand. Your lustful gaze meets his, and you feel a thrill run down your spine at the look in his eyes.

He’s hungry—sex hungry, and you’re his doll to ruin.

Slowly, Jaemin pulls out before thrusting, the tip of his dick prodding your cervix. You cry out, hitting the ice wrapped around your wrists. Over and over and over again, Jaemin pounds into you, groaning the dirtiest words as does. Your back hits the wall every time his hips meet yours, but the pain drowns in the plethora of pleasure.

“So tight,” he rasps, speed increasing by the second. “You feel so, so fucking good.”

“Ah, oh my—god,” you whine, chasing his lips. He grants you a kiss, and you murmur, “Harder, fuck me harder.”

Challenges are a way to rile Jaemin up, and it seems he’s taken your plea as one. The villain grips your thighs as he lets out a low, guttural growl. He thrusts faster, at a speed you can’t comprehend. You’re seeing stars, tasting stars, in an absolute bliss no writer can describe. Jaemin stutters each time you clench around his dick, your pussy sending him into overdrive.

“Hey, cum for me.” he mutters, biting your lower lip.

You pant, running out of breath. “I’m close,” you chant, relishing the way his entire length fits inside of you. You beg, “Please—please don’t stop.”

“Keep asking.”

“Finish me off, Jaemin,” you moan. “I’m so close!”

Jaemin reaches for the restraints, melting them with his left hand. In one swift motion, he turns you so your cheek lays flat against the wall, ass out for him to see. He whistles, fondling the soft flesh. Your mewls don’t stop, spilling endlessly as he continues to slam into you.

“Jaemin!” you cry, clenching around his dick. “Close—close—so close—”

“Let it out, princess.”

And you do, orgasming with his dick still inside. You whimper when he keeps thrusting, chasing his high while simultaneously overstimulating you. Your mind is hazy when he draws his dick out, the condom full of his cum. Support is gone as Jaemin backs away, and you fall to the ground, recovering from the wild fuck you just had.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve come on your face,” he mutters, fixing his pants. Shirtless, he crouches so his eyes are parallel to yours. “You good?”

You spit and it lands on his chin. “I’m still trapped, asshole.”

“If you blow me—”

His words are cut short when the window explodes, the building crumbling from the impact. Both you and Jaemin glance over to the gaping hole in the wall, a confused Giselle standing atop the debris. She scans your half-naked body, then his lack of shirt, and analyzes the scene in no time.

“Ten! They fucked!”

A snicker flies from Jaemin’s lips as he tosses his shirt back on, ruffling his blond hair in amusement. The man glimpses Giselle’s preoccupied state and looks back at you. With a wink, he says, “I’ll contact you for that blowjob. Later, princess.”

You simply blink as he runs off, escaping before he’s forced to engage in a (tedious) fight. When reality hits you and your mind registers his words, a disturbed scowl settles on your face.

You can’t die yet.

And for now, Na Jaemin seems to think the same as he hints at an upcoming rendezvous.

#neohub #nct u #nct dream #nct #na jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #jaemin oneshot #jaemin imagines #jaemin au #jaemin ff #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader

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scarletta-ruan · 1 year

Note

hi hi, could you do a headcanon with chuuya and dazai where reader hides behind them when scared/shy??? thanks and have a good week!

CHUUYA AND DAZAI WHERE READER HID BEHIND THEM WHEN THEY SCARED OR SHY

WARNING: OOC, soft!characters, character acted like they were your heroine, mention of some nicknames (small candy, Belladonna), shy or scared reader, reader is female btw

TYPE: Headcanon

PAIRING: Osamu Dazai || Chuuya Nakahara x fem!reader (seperately)

WORDCOUNTS: 0.6k+ words

NOTES: Your request is here, sorry for being late on the writing after all. It is kinda short so I hope you will enjoy it.

1. Chuuya Nakahara

How could he deny you hiding behind him? I might say that Chuuya loved how you hid behind him a lot.

Chuuya would feel that he was the only person who was born to protect you, and he would be proud of it a lot.

Okay, let's imagine that when you first meet his Mafia family like Kouyou, Mori, or maybe his colleague like The Black Lizard. You were walking beside Chuuya, and his hand held yours to make you feel calm but you were too worried to meet them.

“Aw, my little candy, you don't need to worry about that. They are all our family, after all, they would be happy to see you, of course.”

As the door of the room opened you immediately hid behind his back because you were too shy to look at the people who were present there. Maybe you did not know, but you accidentally caused Chuuya’s face to be as red as yours when you hid behind his back.

Man, Chuuya still introduced you to the new people here but some of his speeches would mess up because he found your cuteness distracted him from saying.

Another situation here was when you felt scared. Recently, you had just watched a horror movie so when you laid your back on the shared bed with Chuuya and decided to close your eyes because you no need to worry about when he was here with you after all.

Suddenly, you heard a noise resounding from downstairs, that sound made your body shiver and caused you some goosebumps. You knew that you had to get out of bed and then checked out on it, that was the reason here, you were so scared when it came to you going alone.

Finally, you had to wake Chuuya up for him to go with you. Because you were too scared so you hid behind his back, Chuuya’s hand held yours tightly as you held his shirt in your hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m here. No one can scare you, my darling.”

Chuuya’s heart felt like he was in Heaven when you trusted him like this, he comforted you while walking downstairs to check out what was happening.

2. Osamu Dazai

He would be surprised at first, Dazai never had anyone to hide behind his back just to make them feel safe and you were the first one who made it.

This was your first time meeting up with his colleague at the Armed Detective Agency, Dazai was meant to introduce you to his own acquaintances. And when you felt so shy and cling dearly behind him.

He felt happy that you trust him dearly with all of your heart.

Might tease you a little bit but not too bad, because he did not want you to cry in front of him.

“My, my, are you being a shy, cute kitten? Oh, my love. You had no idea how I felt about it.”

Another situation was when you were scared, let’s imagine that you and Dazai were hand in hand, walking on the crowded street. As you saw something afraid of you, for example, the person who always bullied you at work or at school.

And when you hid behind his back because you were so scared of them, Dazai would be your hero. He stood in front of you and held your hand tight in his just to make sure that no one could harm you at all.

If you were crying because of scaring them, Dazai would whisper something just to calm you down.

“Sh, sh, you are alright as long as you are here beside me, my Belladonna.”

#bsd dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #bsd x female reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader

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elegantsparklyllama · 5 months

Text

Why we love Asha x Starboy

I just watched Wish, and it is because of the lack of meaningful character interaction in the movie. Aside from Asha and Magnifico, there are only so many characters to bounce off with Asha. There are 7 friends, but they're surface-level at best, with one line per character. The same goes for Sabino (Asha's grandfather), Asha's mom, and even the goat! Star in the final movie is a one-note "follow your dreams" character. There is no added dimension to these interactions, making the film feel hollow.

Giving the Star a humanoid appearance and a potential romance with Asha suddenly makes Wish more interesting. By making Star a human, writers are less likely to treat them like a random animal sidekick and more like a human character.

Meaningful character interactions give viewers something to cling to and relate to emotionally. The Disney Renaissance emphasizes romantic subplots and family conflicts for this reason. You can also find this when the main hero interacts with an animal sidekick. They provide the heart of a movie.

As a writer, I'm attracted to romance subplots because, like any relationship, they provide exciting character interactions and emotional investment. I'm beating a dead horse, but just because a princess has a romance arc doesn't mean she isn't empowered. Belle and Mulan are Disney princesses with love interests, yet they are still fully fleshed-out characters. Romance can also thematically enhance a story. Beauty and the Beast would not be the same without a romance between Belle and the Beast.

In the context of Wish, I think Asha already has an animal sidekick with the goat. She only needs one (they already have too many characters with the 7 teens). It is not that animal sidekicks couldn't be compelling characters. Mushu from Mulan is an example of creating entertaining animal sidekicks. He even has a character arc that complements Mulan, the main heroine. However, with Disney standards right now, you can't help but feel they might butcher the animal sidekicks.

Even the OG movie Snow White checks the mark for meaningful character interactions. It is not between the nameless prince and Snow White, but it is with the seven dwarves. Ironically this is where Asha's 7 friends are based off. The most important relationship of Snow White is literally in the title of her movie: Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Unlike Wish, the reason why they can get away with 7 dwarfs is because the film is centered around the relationship between them and Snow White to avoid bloat.

It doesn't help that Asha and Magnifico themselves feel like bland cutouts. If you compare them to Disney's rosters of heroes and villains, they'd pale in comparison. They have the most interesting interactions but it feels like the bare minimum.

Whenever I look back on a movie, I remember a thought-provoking thematic beat or even a funny character interaction. Wish doesn't leave room for much. The movie feels like an amateur school play they show to grade-schoolers which is a low for Disney.

You know what's sadder?

I wish I could've had that meaningful character interaction with Asha and her grandfather, Sabino. They had something with Asha wanting to grant Sabino's wish but Sabino refused to let it be granted. In the movie, the conflict lasts for about a scene, and then it shifts to granting the wishes of everyone in Rosas.

You can see why the writers toyed with the idea of the Star Boy being a younger version of Sabino. The relationship between Sabino and Asha is the heart of the story.

This imaginary ship buried in concept art gave what the movie lacked: a heart. It is not enough to spew out inspirational messages and call people stars. One should also incorporate humanity.

I have a lot more thoughts on the story, specifically in its thematic beats but that is for another time.

#meta #disney wish #wish 2023 #asha x star #star boy wish #asha wish #princess asha #disney

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novaawayne · 1 year

Text

PHOTOSHOOT | Izuku Midoriya

Well, yes. U know. I saw this drawing of Horikoshi and then twitter was filled with this shit and I just… I need more of Izuku and those huge thighs

pairing: Izuku Midoriya x fem!reader

summary: you're Izuku's assistant and he has a photo shoot but you can't stop looking at those big thighs and imagining how it would feel to ride them

warnings: NSFW. Riding thigh. Soft dom! Izuku. Pet names (bunny). Assistant x boss. Bad grammar.

wc +5.3k

a/n. Okay, it's my first time writing smut in english so sorry if it's terrible i try my best. And yes, I think it's a bit long but I won't apologize because this shit is very good and I couldn't get it out of my head since I saw the drawing.

You know, english is not my first language

masterlist

As the number one hero's personal assistant, your job was more than exhausting. You practically had every minute of Izuku's life in order. And even though he only wanted to go out into the streets and face the villains, there were also a thousand other things he had to do.

Some things like giving interviews, attending meetings, going to dinners with important people, signing documents, appraising new merchandise to be released, and most importantly… photo shoots.

You had been talking to some publicists from other agencies and they came to the conclusion that it would be a great idea to have a shoot with some heroes from different agencies. But not only that. They would all be wearing the same suit though not just any suit.

Someone mentioned that it would be a good idea for everyone to wear Mirko's outfit. You almost get a nosebleed mid-call just imagining your boss wearing the Mirko heroine outfit. You accepted immediately, anyway, Deku trusted you a lot and always told you that you shouldn't consult anything with him. He would do whatever you asked without hesitation.

That's how you two were in a car heading to the photo studio. You looked at your tablet to see Izuku's schedule and he was on his phone or at least pretended to be. Because he couldn't help but look at you from time to time. He was in love with you and even though he was the hero, one muttered, he still couldn't be around any girl without being a blushing, babbling mess. He could hardly control himself with you.

"So..." Izuku spoke and you looked up from the tablet to look directly into his eyes "a photo shoot?"

You smiled at him.

"Yes" you opened a folder on the tablet before looking at it again "it will be a session together with other heroes, I think you know all of them. They confirmed to me that Uravity, Shoto, Earphone Jack, Red Riot would be there and they had also invited Dynamight but I'm not sure if they will go or not "

Izuku seemed relieved that they were all old friends and he wouldn't be uncomfortable.

"What a relief," he said as he released a breath, "and what kind of session will it be?"

Izuku watched as you hid half your face with the tablet as a blush spread across your face. Had he said something wrong?

“We have arrived” announced the driver.

Normally, the driver would open the door for both of them, but Izuku never allowed it. He was the one to get out first and then open your side of the door to help you out. It didn't matter that they had both ridden in the back seats, he always did. Even when he took you home when you left the office very late. The man felt a little guilty for making you stay longer than necessary and although you don't mind at all, Izuku insisted on taking you to your apartment in his car. Even on those occasions, he would open the door for you and help you out, besides, he would not leave until you entered your building and he was completely sure that you were safe.

And this is no exception, Izuku is already out of the car and opening your side of the door as he extends a hand to help you out. You can't help but blush at the gesture and it's just... It's not that you can't do something as simple as open a door, but you love that Izuku does it for you. He makes you feel a little bit special even though you know he would do it for anyone.

They both begin to walk inside the building and although it's a very short walk, the few passers-by who pass by immediately recognize Deku. He quickly becomes surrounded by a small crowd asking for his autographs and photos.

You can't help but look at the green haired man and see the way he smiles and blushes at all the compliments. He should be used to the attention by now, but it's like the first time you met him and the poor guy was a complete mess. Back then they were both still studying, he was from the hero class and you were from Management.

It was precisely in their third year that they were assigned to work together and without a doubt, you admired that boy from the first moment their paths crossed. You still couldn't believe that you were his personal assistant even after so many years.

Izuku then noticed that you were staring at him and gave you one of his characteristic smiles. You looked away immediately in embarrassment and before continuing, you cleared your throat.

"Come on, we're running late" you spoke loud enough for Deku to hear. The man took it upon himself to apologize to his fans and followed you closely.

It was wrong to be in love with your boss. But you couldn't help it.

They barely entered when they heard a couple of screams. You recognized those responsible as Ochako and Eijiro. Izuku smiled with great happiness when he saw her two friends.

You decided that you should give him his space to catch up with them. Anyway, you had to make sure of everything else. You had to see that the wardrobe was ready, that the makeup artists had products that wouldn't irritate Izuku's skin, that they had his favorite snacks, and that there was nothing that could make the man feel uncomfortable.

It was not strange that some people harassed him taking advantage of his work. On one occasion, a photographer wanted to touch Izuku too much but he had no idea how to react to that situation. It was you who intervened. Or like on another occasion where a boy who was in charge of the wardrobe and was taking Izuku's measurements also wanted to touch him in inappropriate places with the excuse that that was his job. But you weren't a rookie and you knew that this man was harassing him.

Not only were they girls, there were also many men who were interested in him. So you protected him in your own way. Making sure you had the history of each worker and sending a complete list of everything Izuku needed. If someone didn't live up to your expectations or there was something off about their background, you would immediately look for a replacement.

You thought he didn't know everything you did for him and you never cared. It was your job after all. But you couldn't be more wrong, Izuku knew perfectly well how hard you worked for him. And he appreciated it more than anything in the world.

"They told me that Kachan might be coming, have you seen him?" Deku asked his friends.

Kirishima thought about it for a moment.

"I spoke to him last night and he said this was bullshit but he didn't say if he would come or not"

Ochako shrugged.

"Maybe he'll come" he smiled "although the one I saw when I got there was Todoroki. It seems that he stayed inside ”

Deku's smile faded slightly, his friends didn't notice but even though he should have been happy to see Shoto…he wasn't.

"I'll go say hi then," he said.

Kirishima and Uraraka nodded.

"Let's wait for Jirou to arrive"

Deku nodded with a big smile and walked down the corridor that he saw you follow before. Deku knew that you admired Shoto a lot as a superhero. To be honest, that made him feel very jealous. Sometimes I saw you arrive with his merchandise. A scarf or a keychain. He even saw you carry a thermos with his colors.

You never hid your admiration for Shoto and it bothered him a lot, even though he had no right to feel that way. You could admire whoever you wanted, but... why didn't you admire him?

He arrived at the studio, there were lights everywhere and the scenery was pretty simple. But that didn't matter to him at the moment. Deku started looking for you until he found you by the snack table. But you are not alone.

In front of you was Shoto and you seemed very nervous in his presence. Your cheeks were a soft red color, your posture also gave you away, besides, you had a lock of hair behind your ear.

Shoto also seemed to act different in front of you. The man was normally serious and not very talkative, but at that moment he seemed to be very comfortable with you and a smile played on his face as he looked at you with interest and big bright eyes.

Izuku clenched his fists tightly then took a deep breath before relaxing to move closer. He took firm steps until he reached you. Shoto was the first to notice his presence.

"Hey, Midoriya" he greeted him the same as always. Like he wasn't stealing the girl from him.

Deku tried to smile and got behind you, so close you felt his body heat all over your back. And not only that, Deku had slipped a hand around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. The sudden act took you by surprise but it was something that did not go unnoticed by Shoto. Although he didn't quite understand what it meant.

"Todoroki, hello" he greeted kindly.

“I was talking to y/n to thank him for the wine basket he sent the other day for my birthday.”

You giggled as your face turned redder and redder. Izuku had no idea, of course he had also sent his friend a gift but he had no idea that you had also sent him one.

"It was nothing" you said modestly but still nervous "I hope you liked it"

Shoto nodded with a smile.

“Actually I've only opened one but it was delicious. Maybe later you can go and we will open a new one”

"She can not!" Deku yelled and for a moment everyone turned to look at him before continuing with his activities.

You also looked at him blankly.

"How?"

"I'm sorry" Izuku apologized with a completely red face "but y/n has a lot of work and I don't think she can come to your house, Todoroki"

Shoto nodded.

"Understand. Sorry to bother you, y/n. Anyway, I was thinking of inviting everyone, my sister wants to organize a party for our father's birthday but he doesn't have many friends and he asked me to invite mine."

Deku felt like a complete fool. He thought that they would have a date alone.

“In that case… maybe the two of us can go. Right, y/n?”

You looked at him with a frown as he squeezed your waist even more.

“Well, I have to check your schedule and Shoto hasn't told us the date yet. But of course, if Deku has the day off we'll go."

"Okay, I'll ask my assistant to send you the invitation" he looked behind you "oh, Bakugo has arrived. I'll go say hello."

Todoroki hadn't changed much since his school years. He was only friendlier but there was still a lot he didn't understand.

"Sorry" Deku muttered as he backed away from you "sorry" he repeated.

You looked at him blankly but before you could ask what was wrong, the alarm on your cell phone started to go off.

"Oh, it's late. You should go get your clothes right now."

You took him by the arm and took him with you. It's not that you hadn't noticed your boss's little fit of jealousy… but you preferred to ignore it for now. Deku actually appreciated it.

You perfectly saw how Izuku's face turned completely red when he saw his wardrobe for the shoot. You let out a laugh but finally gave him some words of encouragement.

"Oh, you must put this on first so it doesn't bother your crotch," the dressmaker told him.

Deku looked into your eyes and it was as if he had caught a burst of confidence. He had nothing to fear, after all, he was with his friends and trusted people. Furthermore, he was sure that this would also make his fans very happy.

"Okay, where can I change?"

"Ah, yes" you spoke "I'll take you to your dressing room. Apparently the suits had been mixed up and that's why they delivered it to you here."

"Ok"

You led him through a corridor where there were several doors with the names of his friends until they finally reached the one with his name.

"Here. Start changing and I'll tell the stylists to come over."

"Okay, thanks"

You didn't see Deku again for an hour and a half. There were things that you had to discuss with the other attendees and with the marketing manager that time flew by. The cameraman explained what they had planned and the project manager mentioned that he would send you all the photos so that you could select the ones that would be published.

Then they all went back into the studio. Kirishima seemed to be the most comfortable of all, showing a big smile and proudly modeling the suit.

The last to enter was Deku. That he no longer seemed so nervous and was actually quite normal. However… there was something you couldn't stop looking at for a single second.

Deku's big legs.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, still staring at those huge thighs you wish were wrapped around your head.

You almost forget how to breathe as a nosebleed engulfs you. Deku was the first to see you very worried and he didn't hesitate to give you a handkerchief.

"Are you okay?" He asked him very worried.

You nodded.

"Yes, I'm sorry"

“Hmmm… your face is very red. Don't you have a fever? Deku placed a hand on your forehead, and that only made you feel even hotter.

"I'm fine" you sighed "you look good, by the way"

He smiled ruefully.

"Do you really believe it? I think it is very comfortable but it is not my style”

It was your turn to smile at him. You placed a hand on his massive arm and nodded.

"Come on, they are waiting for you to start the session"

Deku ran off with a big smile on his face.

Why did your panties feel so sticky all of a sudden?

You came closer to watch the session up close. The photographer would walk them through how to position themselves for the group session and later they would go through individually or in pairs. There was so much material and they were going to take advantage of it to generate as much money as possible.

Deku actually seemed happy and comfortable as he posed and paced. Jirou was the one who seemed most uncomfortable but still she tried very hard.

The music started to get a little louder and after twenty minutes, you decided to go to the snack table to get something for Deku. A bottle of water will suffice and then he could go in search of food that he liked. Although you knew perfectly well what he would choose.

As you made your way back to the photographer, you saw Bakugo looking disgusted with the situation. Although you did not understand why he had stayed if he did not want to be part of the session. You didn't go over to say hello, you knew he would send you to hell as soon as he saw you.

However, your eyes never stopped seeing those huge legs. Had they grown in the last month? Not that you've never seen them before. In fact, five months ago Deku had done a men's underwear photo shoot and before that a commercial where he was in a bathing suit.

But now, it was as if his legs were much bigger.

You came back to reality when Deku stopped in front of you with a big smile and sweat on his forehead.

"Good job" you praised and gave him a towel and the bottle of water. A stylist immediately came over to fix his hair and put translucent powder on his face.

The stylist ran off as Kirishima left the camera and they were alone.

Deku returned the towel but kept the bottle.

"Thank you," he said finally. You smiled tenderly.

"It's my job," you reminded him.

"I know. But still… thank you” he looked back where this time it was only the girls who were the center of attention “it seems that now it is only them”

"Deku!" One of the photographers called him "come here"

You laughed

"It seems they want you with them too"

It was a really long session. They had arrived at nine in the morning and it was half past two in the morning when everyone was leaving the building. Time had passed very quickly and everyone really had a lot of fun. They would have left the session for another day, but everyone wanted it to stay that day because it would be difficult to get all the heroes together again.

You were beyond exhausted and you couldn't imagine how the heroes were doing. They all looked dead.

Deku and you were the last to leave. The car was waiting for them outside and they both got in in silence. You were looking at the tablet, doing your best to go through the tasks for the morning so that Deku could rest a little more.

When you looked at him, you saw him leaning against the glass of the car half asleep. It really had been a long day. You would definitely cancel everything for the next day.

Unintentionally, your eyes traveled his thighs. What would it feel like to ride those massive thighs? No. You shouldn't think about that at all.

"We have arrived" announced the driver. You frowned as you realized they weren't outside your building.

“I thought… we would go to my apartment first” you told the man.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Midoriya told me that he should bring both of you here."

You felt nervous, like you couldn't breathe.

"Ah yes" Izuku muttered as he released a yawn "it's late and my apartment was closer. I thought you could stay with me today."

Your face got hot.

"No, it is not necessary. I can order a taxi if…”

"Please" he interrupted you "please stay with me"

They both looked into each other's eyes.

"Fine"

Deku got out of the car and then helped you out. He quickly spots the large building in front of you. It wasn't the first time you visited Izuku's apartment, you had done it a million times, but it was the first time you would sleep with him.

It didn't make sense though. You didn't understand why he asked you to stay with him. It is true that your apartment was on the other side of the city and that Yamato, the driver, was also tired from waiting for them all day.

Maybe Deku was just being nice to his driver. Yes. It should be that.

Deku took his backpack out of the trunk and they both went into the building. Why did you suddenly feel so nervous? The doorman glanced at them before letting them through and returned his gaze to the security cameras as they headed for the elevator.

They both climbed into the metal box and Deku pressed the button with the number twenty-three. The top floor. Compared to your apartment, Deku's was huge. It's not that you complain about your home, in fact it was perfect for you, but you always liked visiting Izuku's house to see his beautiful decorating taste.

The door opened and they came into a small hallway, where at the end was a handsome black wooden door. Deku opened and stopped the door to let you in first. You thanked him with a shy smile and quickly heard the door close behind you. Then slowly the lights started to come on and you also heard Izuku's keys hit the glass bowl at the entrance.

For a moment you felt so small and shy in Izuku's home. Like you don't deserve to be there.

"Everything is alright?" Izuku asked.

"Yes. I'm just tired and I can't think anymore” you lied. You took off your shoes before walking on.

"I know, I feel knocked out too" he smiled "is there something for tomorrow?"

"No. I took it upon myself to clear the agenda for you to rest. You can arrive at the agency at any time you want”

"Thank you very much, bunny"

They both stayed where they were. Izuku said it unintentionally. He shouldn't have said it out loud.

"I'll go change and find something you can wear" he spoke again as he entered his room.

"Yes thanks"

You approached the beautiful chair that covered a large space in the room and was shaped like an L. you still remember when Deku bought it, it took him almost two hours to choose it. It had also cost a fortune but Izuku was very happy. Deku returned almost immediately, before you could close your eyes and rest for a moment.

He was wearing his clothes to sleep with. A green shirt that looked very old and sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. The rib of his underpants was visible. You couldn't believe how Deku still wore old clothes with the huge amount of money he had.

You would definitely buy him new shirts in the week.

“I found this hoodie and this shorts,” he said sheepishly as he handed it over to you.

You stared at it and quickly realized that it was one of the hoodies that went on sale three years ago. It was green, just like her hero costume and the hood had long ears just like his.

It couldn't be a coincidence that he gave you precisely that hoodie. No, it was not. Deku was very eager to see you wearing his merch. For seeing you wearing his colors and not Shoto's.

"Oh, thank you very much Izuku" you stood up "is it okay if I use the bathroom?"

"Of course"

You took more than half an hour in the bathroom. The hoodie fit you perfectly, maybe a little big but Izuku's shorts didn't. They didn't hang on your hip and just ended up on the ground, and you weren't even that skinny but Deku had a lot more muscles than you and he was a lot bigger.

In the end you left the bathroom with only the hoodie on. Izuku was on the couch with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He really he was very tired.

You approached him and gently touched his shoulder to wake him up but there was no response. You tried again.

"Izuku? Maybe you should go to bed."

But there was no answer. However, you suddenly felt him pull your arm and you sat on his lap. Izuku's face was hidden in the curve of your neck.

"You smell so good" you heard him murmur "you look so cute wearing my stuff"

You felt moisture on your neck. A gasp escaped your lips when you realized they were wet kisses.

"Izuku?" You wanted to push him away but you didn't have enough willpower to do it. He felt so good.

"I noticed" he moved away a little to look at his face "the way you didn't stop looking at my thighs all day"

Your face suddenly felt hot. He had caught you?

"But I don't care," he continued, "I was glad your eyes were only on me."

His hands gripped your waist tightly as he lifted the garment to feel the softness of your skin. He realized then that you were only wearing your panties.

"Izu..." you gasped again. His big hands against your skin was a wonderful feeling.

"Would you like to ride my thigh?"

You were in shock. Was this really happening?

You nodded.

“Good girls use their words. If you want something, you have to ask for it, darling."

Who was this man and what had they done with Izuku? You had never known this side of him but you were starting to like him.

You were silent for a moment. Feeling small kisses from Izuku along your neck and soft caresses on your sides.

"Izuku...can I...can I ride your thigh?"

He smiled without taking his lips off your skin.

"Of course honey"

You stood up and Izuku settled into his expensive chair as you tried to find enough air to breathe and settle into his thigh. Your cheeks burned but you felt too drunk to think about anything other than riding your boss's thigh.

Izuku spread his legs a little more and you settled in front of him. He immediately felt the moisture seeping through your panties. You put your hands on his shoulders to support yourself and you began to move your hips from front to back.

"That's it honey, I want you to cum using only my thigh"

You nodded.

He really felt great. Izuku's thigh was huge and firm yet slightly soft and warm. Much better than you had imagined that afternoon.

"Izuku, this feels so good" you gasped.

"It's what you've been imagining all afternoon, isn't it, bunny?"

You nodded again.

"Yes. I… I wanted to do this”

"Come on, I want you to be greedy and use me for your pleasure" he encouraged you "I'm very strong, so you can apply a little more pressure"

And that you did. Your clothed pussy ran down Izuku's thigh multiple times, faster each time. You heard Deku moan as he looked at you and he didn't hesitate twice before bringing his hands to your hips to press you more against his thigh. He also began to bounce his leg off of him, which sent little vibrations through your core.

"Izuku... I... I... so close"

"Come on bunny, I want you to make a whole mess"

And that you did. You came so hard it was hard to find enough air to breathe again. Your entire body fell onto Izuku's chest as you tried to recover.

Izuku stroked your back very gently.

“That's my good girl. Do you think you can help me now?"

You looked at him with misty eyes and then you looked at his pants. A lump was growing and it seemed very painful.

"Of course"

You were about to stand up to kneel between his legs but he stopped you as he shook his head.

“Not today,” he gasped, “today I want to enter you. Another day I'll let you have fun."

Another day? Did you hear right? Would this happen again?

"Good"

You straddled Izuku and leaned in to kiss his lips. He was surprised but accepted the kiss. It was a messy, passionate kiss. You pulled away from him just a little to start kissing his jaw and then his neck. Every sound that came from Izuku's lips was like hearing an angel sing.

Your hands went to the edge of his shirt and you slowly lifted it up. You felt his abdomen very well chiseled. You parted your lips from his skin just to get rid of that ugly shirt and toss it on the floor before going back to caressing every inch of his skin.

Izuku felt in the clouds. Every caress you gave him was simply wonderful and he could come at that very moment but he held back.

Your hands then went to the spring of his boxers, which you lowered along with his pants.

Deku's cock bounced against his abdomen and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. So long and wide. With a bright red tip. And not only that, he had freckles along his thighs. You had noticed it before but seeing it up close was wonderful.

You really wanted to taste it and feel it in your mouth, but it would be another time.

Your index finger touched the tip, earning you a huge moan from Izuku along with a squeeze in your hips.

"Come on, bunny. Don't be like that with me"

You smiled. It was clear that you were now in control of the situation.

You took his cock with your whole hand and pumped a couple of times gently. Deku was a complete mess under you. You repeated the action a few times and spread the pre-cum all over his cock.

Finally set your panties to the side and lined the tip against your entrance to slowly enter. They both stifled a big groan but Izuku was very impatient and he pushed your hip all the way. It stayed like that for a moment. They both had their eyes closed as they took in what was happening.

"Please" you heard Deku stammer "move, please"

And you did it. You started to move your hips. The moans of both began to fill the room. You were about to take off your hoddie due to the heat spreading through your body but Deku stopped you.

"I want you to wear it while I fuck you, don't take it off"

"Okay" you muttered.

You rode Izuku's dick, feeling like you were in heaven. The lewd sounds fill the room completely. Your nails were leaving marks on Izuku's back and he couldn't feel more excited. He loved that burning sensation you left on his back every time he touched the right spot inside you.

His lips met again. Deku's hands grew stronger as he indicated the pace you should follow. Surely you would have some bruises the next day but what did it matter at that moment.

Deku ran a hand around your waist to draw you even closer to him while his other hand went to your clit to rub it hard. Suddenly you felt so much pleasure running through your body that you didn't think it was possible.

Izuku broke away from your lips just to kiss your neck. Suddenly he had the need to leave marks so that everyone would know that you belonged to him and only him.

You were his and no one else's.

"Izuku... again" you stammered between gasps "I'm going to... Izuku please, I want you to cum inside me"

He was surprised by your request but if that was what you wanted, he had no reason to refuse.

“Do it bunny. I am also close. I want you to be a good girl and milk my dick."

They both climaxed almost at the same time. First it was you, stifling a big moan kissing Izuku's lips and then it was him. You knew that he controlled his strength so as not to break a bone.

In the end, Izuku fell back on the couch and you slumped against his chest.

His expensive chair was a complete mess but he couldn't care less.

"Just so we're clear" Izuku spoke after catching his breath as he hugged you and caressed your back. His cock was still inside you “I'm in love with you. I am really very in love and I would like you to be my girlfriend”

You smiled, leaving little kisses on his clavicle.

"That i would like"

He cleared his throat.

“I would also like…” somehow, he went back to a blushing mess “for you to use more of my merchandise and less of Shoto's. It makes me feel…jealous”

You smiled, leaving a kiss on his lips.

"Ok. But believe it or not, I have quite a collection of your merchandise. It's just that I was a little embarrassed to take it to work."

Izuku's eyes began to glow.

"Is that so?"

"Of course"

He hugged you tighter.

"I'm so happy"

Two weeks later the photos from that session were released. Needless to mention, they were a complete success and sold out immediately.

Of course, you also got every one of the photos where Deku was. It didn't matter that you now had him all to yourself. Those photos were worth gold.

↬ written by Novaawayne

#bnha #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku midoriya #bnha deku #deku x reader #mha deku #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #boku no hero fanfic #bnha midoriya #boku no hero acedamia #my hero academia #one shot #fluff

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

Si Vis Amari Ama

I. Twin Flames

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairings: Rooster (Roman Name: Gallus) x Female Reader (Roman Name: Sabina), featuring Hangman (Roman Name: Carnifex) x Phoenix

Summary: A girl whose freedom was stolen to pay her father’s debts. A gladiator enslaved for the entertainment of Rome. A love they never thought possible.

Author’s Note: I hope you guys are excited for Gallus and Sabina’s story! I know that I’m very excited to tell it. Please think of this chapter as a Prologue of sorts, where you’ll get a little glimpse into the histories of our hero and heroine.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Slavery in the ancient world, parental death, references to physical abuse, allusions to atrocities committed during a Roman raid, angst.

You could never escape your debts.

There wasn’t much that you remembered about your father, but you could recall those words falling from his lips, clear as a bell. He’d said them so often when you were a little girl that they were permanently ingrained in your brain, rather like the brand that now marred the skin of your left shoulder.

He was right. You couldn’t escape your debts. Even in death, they came to haunt those you left behind, the weight of them falling on shoulders not strong enough to bear the burden.

If only your father had heeded his own advice.

But you were only a child then. At six years old, what could you know of the expenses your father was piling up, the creditors he owed, the tax collectors he evaded?

Perhaps he knew all along. Perhaps he knew he would never escape those debts, never outrun them. And so perhaps Fortuna, the only god he had ever had any use for, had smiled upon him when she sent the fever that robbed him of his life breath.

But why did she have to take Mater, too?

At six years old, you knew nothing. Nothing but pain and loss.

If only you had known that that was just the beginning.

What could you have known of the debts your father owed? Death may have allowed him to escape them, but it didn’t afford you the same luxury.

Rome had been your home your entire life, but when you needed her the most, she turned her back on you, just as your father had done. Just, as it seemed, Fortuna had. The most powerful empire in the world had no pity in her heart for poor orphans, especially not orphans who had inherited a lifetime’s worth of debt, orphans whose fathers’ foolishness had robbed the empire’s coffers.

It was a strange thing, being swept up and sold off, like you were of no more worth than the tapestries and vases that went with you off to market.

Everything was to be sold, you’d overheard the men saying, those frightening men with their faces that looked like the marble you’d seen in the Temple of Jupiter and their eyes as cold as the frigid waters of the Tiber in the dead of winter. If they fetched a good enough price for your childhood home and everything that lay within it, it might just settle your father’s accounts, so they said.

You could never escape your debts.

Or, in this case, you could never escape the debts of others.

Maybe you should have known that moment would come, the moment when your freedom was swallowed up forever. Maybe the signs had been there all along, as the augurs in the temples were so wont to remind people.

Had your parents known all along that this would be your fate when they bestowed your name upon you at birth? Sabina, a name derived from the Sabine women, the very women who had been robbed of their freedom when they were unwillingly carried off by the brutal hands of Rome.

You had never been one for portents and signs, but perhaps this one had been staring you in the face all along.

From Sabina, the freeborn Roman to Sabina, the slave.

How quickly the hands of fate could turn.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and months to years, until freedom itself seemed only to be a distant memory, like the sound of your mother’s voice and the joy of the games you’d played as a small child.

Your childhood and your freedom had been stolen, stolen to satisfy the debts of the man who was supposed to protect and defend you. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to let the bitterness and resentment build. You’d seen the way it festered in others, the way it gnawed at their bones until nothing remained but a hollow shell. You couldn’t allow that to happen.

Because then what was left of you would be stolen, too, and you really would be nothing.

So long as that tiny flicker of peace remained, then a part of you remained as well, and nobody, not even Rome herself, could take that away from you.

Through every indignity, through every punishment and beating and degradation, you clung to that tiny piece of your heart that you stubbornly refused to let be stained by the world. Through every change of hands, when your body was treated like a commodity to be bought and sold, your very humanity ignored and denied, you retreated to that small place inside, that place where you were still you and always would be.

At night, when you dreamed, it wasn’t of the horrors of your circumstances or the brutality of your days. When you dreamed, it was always of the same pair of arms that held you close and kept you safe. They were strong arms. Scarred arms. Arms that had carried the weight of burdens too heavy to bear, just as you had. You didn’t know who they belonged to—you could never see his face—but you trusted him more than anyone you had ever known. And though you woke each morning alone and cold, you knew with a surety borne only of a deep-seated need that his warmth would find you again when you closed your eyes.

No matter where you went, no matter what household you were sold to, your strong-armed protector followed you in your dreams. And so you weren’t afraid when, after the death of the dominus you’d served for many years, you were sold off to the household of Atticus Cornelius Juventus. For though he was well known to be a lanista, a dealer in the most brutal of gladiators, you felt a strange sense of certainty that you would be safe there.

Your father had taught that you could never escape your debts.

You had learned that you could never escape the fetters of slavery.

But maybe, just maybe, there was still a part of you, no matter how small, that could be free.

Honor and pride were all a man had.

His father had been a great warrior. Honor and pride were the two things he had lived by, the things that had fueled him.

He didn’t really remember his father.

His mother had told him about him when he was small, but he didn’t really remember her either.

He could recall her in flashes—the feel of her arms as she rocked him to sleep, the sound of her voice as she hummed a tune he could no longer remember the words of, the look of pain that flickered in her eyes when she spoke of his father.

But every time he tried to cling to those memories, to solidify her face in his mind’s eye and tattoo it on his heart, they disappeared like the morning mist, taking all the fleeting echoes of home with them.

Home.

Britannia had been home once, but was it any longer?

It was the land his father had died for, the land he’d been cut down defending.

It was the land where his mother had given him life, nurturing him and raising him to be a man of honor and pride, as his father had been.

But he hadn’t been a man, not then.

He hadn’t been a man when the Romans came and raided his village. He hadn’t been a man when they burned the only home he’d ever known, not caring that his mother was still inside. He hadn’t been a man when they raped and pillaged, destroying everything he’d ever held dear in their mad thirst for power and control.

He hadn’t been a man when they rounded him up with the other few survivors and carted him off to the slave markets of Rome, the foul center of their even fouler empire.

He hadn’t been a man then, but he became one.

And as he grew under the watchful eyes of Rome, so did his bitterness. As his body grew stronger, so did his hatred for the people who had made him a slave to their savage empire.

The Romans liked to claim that his people were the savages, yet he had never seen a people as thirsty for blood as the citizens of this hellish kingdom. His father had only ever fought out of devotion to his family and his homeland. These people fought for the pure joy of bloodlust.

He hated them.

He hated them and he hated everything they represented.

But most of all, he hated himself for not being able to break free of them. He hated himself for having to submit to their fetters and chains.

One day, he told himself, he would break free. And so he worked hard every day, not for the benefit of Rome, but for the benefit of himself. He built up his muscles and his stamina, he built up his endurance and his strength. He built himself up so that no one would ever be able to hurt him and get away with it.

But perhaps that had been his mistake.

He built himself up so much that it began to attract talk—and attention.

It started out harmlessly enough. His dominus—how he hated that word—would set up street brawls with drunkards and other slaves and collect bets on the outcome of the fights. He might not have been proud to admit it, but it served as an outlet for the rage he’d been bottling up inside since he was a small boy. Each man he fought was the man who had run his father through with a Roman sword, or the soldier who had laughed as his mother screamed in agony while the flames engulfed her. With each swing of his massive fists, he avenged his parents and his people.

But as the fights became more popular, more people began to take notice. And he was too brash and impulsive, too young and stupid, to realize just how dangerous that was.

He would never forget the day that Atticus Cornelius Juventus came to watch him fight, the rich man’s dark, beady eyes never blinking as he watched him destroy his opponents, beating them to within an inch of their lives. At the end of the bout, when he was bloodied and panting and soaked with sweat, the man even smiled, one corner of his cunning mouth quirking up into a satisfied grin.

“I’ll take him, Linus,” he had said, throwing a hefty bag of clinking coins in the direction of his smirking dominus.

His former dominus.

From that day forward, he became the property of Atticus Cornelius Juventus and he knew that he would never taste freedom again.

He had built himself up so that they could never destroy him, and he ended up destroying himself.

From street brawls with drunkards, to armed combat in local arenas, to the public spectacles of the Colosseum, the years passed and his fame grew. “The Barbarian from Britannia” was what they loved to call him. He was their champion, their hero, their undefeated victor. They loved him, worshiped him, adored the ground he walked on.

He hated them.

He hated their cheers, he hated the way they fawned over him, he hated the way they had forced their sword into his hand, the same sword that had slaughtered his father and his people.

He no longer cared whether he lived or died. In fact, he rather wished that death would finally come to claim him one of these days.

What did he have to live for?

It certainly wasn’t the hope of freedom. He no longer hoped for that. He no longer hoped for anything. His life was not his own, and it never had been.

There were moments when he was by himself late at night, brief and fleeting moments when he felt himself reaching out for something—or someone. It was a desperate ache, a longing deep inside his chest for something he didn’t quite understand.

It didn’t matter. He would root that longing out of his heart, just as he had rooted out every other feeling beyond bitterness and hatred.

Honor and pride were all a man had, and his had been trampled into the dust.

He would never return to his homeland.

He would never escape the blood and sand of the Colosseum.

He would never again be free.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller #hannix #hangman x phoenix #Ancient Rome AU #si vis amari ama ⚔️

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