#she wants to (splash around in your blood) be your friend! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bi-writes · 2 months

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I LOVED how you wrote ghost and badass!reader omg 🫶 If you’re comfortable, would you be open to writing protective boyfriend ghost at the pub? Some oblivious guy is creepy when ghost goes to get drinks. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when ghost returns.

ill take any opportunity to write about my favorite lieutenant spilling blood for love (18+)

he has been gone for too long. your glass is empty, and the crowd is filling the room, and it's loud. you lose him, even the size of him is swallowed by how many people are moving around, and you sigh as you lean your head into your hands and wait for him.

you know he must hate this. the people. the noise. it's hot, too, and you know he'll complain a little about the stickiness of his mask when you get home.

you gasp when there's a splash of something against your back. you cry out in anger, and when you turn, there's two men cackling as they come into your space.

"ohhhh!" the lankier one giggles drunkenly, and his eyes make you uneasy. his hair is curling from the sweat along his brow, and the dark pieces of it fall in front of his face, drawing low shadows over him. he's the one holding the drink that just spilled down your back. "s-sorry, luv--" he hiccups, and you glare.

"fuck off," you snap, and it's then that you realize you've made a mistake. something ugly flashes across his face, and his friend notices, a bleach-blonde with an uneven haircut, and he whistles a little.

"oh, fuck, mate--she wants a fight."

you scoff, shaking your head. "if you aren't gonna apologize for spilling that shit on me, the least you can do is get the fuck out of here."

"oi, you got a fuckin' mouth on ya, lovie," the dark-haired one growls. you sit up a little straighter, brushing off some liquid that's spilled onto the table. they're cornering you, you realize, when the blonde one takes a seat across from you and the other traps you in the booth by sitting next to you.

"i'm not going to ask you again," you say firmly. "get your ass off this seat and move along."

"you're one of those, aren't you?" the one next to you gets uncomfortably close. "one of those feminists? that thinks men are useless, and that you're meant for something more than the fuckin' kitchen?"

you frown, your mouth opening slightly, and you shake your head, "excuse me?"

"you lot," he comes closer. "think you're hot shit. but y'r all fuckin' slags. only thing you're good for is opening y'r fuckin' legs."

you jump visibly when he grabs your thigh roughly, and you're about to react when a gloved hand finds the back of his head and slams it down against the wood of the desk.

you squeak when he cries out in pain, his nose pointing at unnatural angles, and blood splatters the table and the denim of your jeans. you lean back, but then those gloved hands grab the back of his shirt and yank him out of the booth, tossing him onto the floor. he skids across it, wet with spilled drinks, and he doubles over, coughing, cradling his face as he sobs.

you swallow hard when ghost finally turns his head back to the table. his chest is heaving, and he squeezes his hands in and out of fists when his eyes land on the helpless blonde that still somehow sits across from you.

"no--" he holds his hands up. "n-no, w-we were just--"

"just what?" ghost snarls, tilting his head to the side as he looks at him. you suck in a shaky breath, frozen in your seat, and you almost feel bad for the poor thing. but then you replay the words, the way they looked at you, how one of them put a hand on you. you relax a little, blinking, and you realize it must be acceptance.

you take a dog with you when you go out. it's not your fault people don't realize their bite hurts.

ghost takes a step towards him, boots heavy, and he runs. he bolts, running away, out the back door, and he leaves his friend to cradle his bloody face against his shaking hands all by himself. the crowd was quiet for a moment, but the mood softens when ghost turns away, letting out a low breath. people realize the show is over, and they shuffle back in place.

there is blood on the back of your hand. before you can touch it, a gloved hand reaches out and smooths his own over you, wiping it away. you sniffle, looking down, and he comes closer to crowd your space. you feel only warmth with him there, and your lip trembles a little.

"s-sorry, i--"

"wot are you apologizing for?" simon mutters. "apologizin' for those fuckin' twats, luv? don't want t'hear it."

he grunts, shaking his head, and he tugs on your arms, bringing you closer.

"c'mere," he tilts your head up, putting a few fingers on your chin and staring down at you. he narrows his dark eyes, and you smile, just a little, sadly. "was almost too late." he looks behind him, and you see a few feet away, there's two drinks spilled on the floor, glass shattered where he dropped them. "saw him put his fuckin' hands on you, 'n--"

you put a hand on his forearm, digging your nails in there gently. you shake your head.

"it's okay. doesn't matter." you laugh a little. "kinda hot."

you notice him raise a brow, and he tilts his head to the side, and he hums.

"oh, that right, luv?" he leans in, closer, and when he touches your hands, blood comes off on your hands. you smooth your hands against his own, gripping them firmly, and you look up at him as you smile knowingly.

simon would do unspeakable things for you. and that idiot was lucky to go home with his hands still attached. it should scare you that you know this, that you know this is a fact. it's dark, it's cruel, but it's yours, and you like the way it tastes in your mouth.

you like the way revenge feels against your tongue, the sound that love feels between your teeth. this love is fucked and raw, and it will tear you apart, but you can't wait for it, to feel it, the thin line between pain and pleasure. simon pushes the boundary between good and bad, and for once, the blood feels warm, and he paints you with it, and it's fucking poetic the way you look at him now.

pretty eyes, big eyes, eyes that tell him she's going to fuck you when she takes you home.

"yeah, big man," you murmur, and you feel something hot go through you when his eyes drop to your lips for just a second. just enough time for you to know he's losing his resolve. one thought about getting his hands on you, and he falls, and it's pathetic, but he's so fucking hard, he doesn't care. "it's hot."

and when he forces you to look in the mirror later, when it's dark and it's just the two of you, you realize there is blood on your face, and his hands are dirty with filth.

but when he goes to take the gloves off, you don't let him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #simon thoughts #ghost mwii #ghost call of duty #dark!simon

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yawnderu · 2 months

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Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (2/?)

cw: stalking, noncon. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment.

"Are you listening?" The man in front of you asks the moment your gaze starts to drift off for the third time since you arrived at the office.

"Sorry. What did you say?" The dark circles around your eyes make you resemble a raccoon more than a human, the memories of your friends dying and their blood splattered all around the pale wallpapers. Images of nature that were supposed to be remembered as calming do the exact opposite, forever engraved in your broken psyche.

"Do you remember anything about the suspect?" The detective's voice is calm, laced with nothing but pure understanding and compassion, a man too passionate about what he does— and the man you're about to lie to, delaying the investigation of your friend's death just to save your own ass.

"Nothing other than what I've told you, sir. Everything is just so..." The pregnant pause makes him fidget with the pen in his hand, grey eyes focused on the way you look away from him, eyes squinting as you try to recall memories from that night, memories that are so painful he can see it written all over your face, making him feel a pang of guilt.

"It's okay. Call me if you remember anything else, yeah?" His warm hand rests on your shoulder after you get up, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile that is only met with weary eyes, making your way out without saying anything. There's hesitation in your steps, your heart almost beating out of your chest the moment you stop walking and look over your shoulder, briefly meeting his curious gaze.

“He had brown eyes.” Mr. Smith doesn't waste any time on adding the information to his notes, only making the guilt spread all over your insides like black mold, taking over what used to be your soul— it's all his now.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment, yet what do you call seeing the man who killed your friends everywhere you go? He's been taking over your entire life no matter how much you try to push the memories away, no matter how much you try to forget it all happened, only serving as a constant reminder that you didn't do enough.

Dreams colliding with reality isn't something new, yet your nightmares are so realistic that it almost feels like you were there. Even while you were hidden away in a dark closet, you can see your friends struggling against the much bigger, armed man, innocent bodies butchered while they were alive, a mess of limbs spread all over the rented cabin, blank eyes always staring at you, watching you run away and leave them behind.

Were you losing your mind? It all seems so real, to the point you're not even convinced you only saw your best friend die. Are you sure you didn't peek the kitchen the moment you cowardly decided to escape? The kitchen was blocked by a wall, and yet.

Cold water splashes all over your face, feeling the softness of your palm rub the skin, trying to come back to reality, to remind yourself that it's impossible to have seen the other bodies. The crime scene report is repeated over and over like a mantra, serving as a permanent reminder that you weren't there. No, not when only a body was found in the living room.

The person looking back at you in the mirror is a far cry from who you used to be. The dark circles in your eyes resemble more a dead girl walking than a real, healthy body, and perhaps that's what you are. If it weren't for the constant feeling of crippling dread and the tears spilling down your cheeks like a broken dam, you could've fooled a mortician.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the vanity brings you back to reality from your trip to Self-Pity Land, slapping some more water on your sweaty face before deciding to take a peek at the screen.

1:38 PM.

From: Ali💗

Almost there.

It's enough to make you scurry around the room, applying enough makeup to not make your friend worry, knowing that she wanted to get you out of the house just to give you a worthy distraction.

For what seems like the first time in forever, the corners of your lips tilt up into a smile the moment your friend wraps her arms around you, holding you close despite the odd stares you're getting from the people in the diner.

“Hey, you.” Her cheerfulness was contagious, to the point that even if only for a second, you get a sense of normalcy. A sense of community, despite your own feelings about the entire situation.

Your friend can talk for two. Something that you never noticed until now, listening to her ramble about anything and everything for the past hour. In a way, it gave you the chance to dissociate in peace, the words mixing together to the point they barely made sense anymore, completely entering one ear and leaving the other.

“He's looking at you.” Alina says in a teasing whisper, nudging you with her elbow. You give her a confused glance until she looks between the man and you, giving you the look.

Your gaze connects with a pair of baby blue eyes, forcing a sharp pain to cut through your soul. His eyes look too familiar, resembling the pair you see every single day in your nightmares. His entire demeanor screams ''cocky bastard'', manspreading on the seat of the table across from you, his arm propped up on the backrest.

“Awful timing, but I have to go.” Alina says with a small frown, though it quickly changes to a little smug smirk the moment she realizes the man is still looking at you. If she even notices your pleading gaze, it goes completely ignored as she gets up from the booth, giving you a strong, goodbye hug— and the stare from the man makes it clear that it might be the last one.

“Get some.” She teases in a whisper, quickly making her way out of the diner after paying for your drinks. You feel the urge to empty your stomach, yet there's barely anything there, only the slow-growing sense of pure dread the longer you keep staring at each other. Even when you force yourself to look away, you can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye, almost able to tell he has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Leaving a halfway done drink behind, you make your way out of the diner, hoping that being out with more witnesses can save you. Is that really him? You barely got the chance to see his eyes yet you never saw his face, starting to doubt yourself the longer your tired feet drag you around the street. He could be an innocent man falling victim of your trauma, simply looking to get laid— you could probably use that, too, yet his icy stare and cocky grin is carved into your damaged mind.

“Need a ride?” A deep, gravely voice offers, nearly giving you a heart attack the moment your eyes meet his. Your hand goes up to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart even when he gives you a reassuring, charming smile.

“No, thank you.” Your tone is far too polite and kind, still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt despite the fight or flight screaming at you to flee— to get away from the man you're now convinced is the same masked man who murdered your friends.

“Get in the fucking car, princess.”

The charming smile he was shooting your way is gone within a second, his icy gaze piercing through your soul now that he knows you saw through his bullshit. Your gaze drifts down to the hand lifting a part of his shirt up, revealing part of his dark, happy trail— and his handgun.

There's hesitation in your steps as you walk to the passenger's seat, already feeling the smoothie you drank starting to crawl up your throat, almost making you throw it all up, yet you do your best to hold it in, shakily getting into his car.

“… My house's up ahead.” You purposely give him the wrong address, trying to protect your family and yourself from the deranged bastard. The ride is eerily quiet, almost making you even more nervous than if he was trying to make conversation with you. There's no music playing, no humming— nothing, other than his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and his calm breathing.

“We're here.” Maybe you're reading him wrong, but there's hints of teasing bleeding through his deep voice, his eyes shining with mirth when you step out of his truck, making your way to one of the houses. You reach the front door after what feels like minutes, your hand shaking as you think of what to do. You can hear the engine of his car still behind you, not driving away even when you told him that's your home.

I don't want anyone else to die because of me. If someone opens the door, would he murder them too? He has a gun, and the way he brutalized your friends makes it clear that he's not afraid to get his hands dirty no matter the weapon. His loud laugh makes every single muscle in your body tense up, hesitantly looking back at him, the pure amusement dancing all over his face doesn't ease your fears in the slightest.

“Come back, sweetheart. I'll take you home.” And he stays true to his word, driving back in silence, his warm hand resting on your bare thigh. You don't dare look at it, simply staring out of the window, feeling every single callus on his hand while the scenery gets more and more familiar. The black mold in your soul spreads by the second, threatening to rot you from the inside out, bubbling up into a disgusting brew as he stops in front of your house.

Your eyes briefly meet his, his pupils starting to dilate the same way they did when he was done brutalizing your friends; just like a predator who has never failed to catch his prey. You never gave him your address— in fact, you didn't say a single word since you got back into his truck, yet he still found his way to your house.

It's all starting to make sense. Despite assuming it's all a product of your paranoia, you've been catching hints of the masked man everywhere you go, blue eyes always staring right into your soul.

“Not gonna invite me over for some coffee?” Technically, it is a question, yet you both know saying no to him is not even on the table.

“Sure… I can make you a coffee.” Perhaps inviting a serial killer is not the brightest idea, yet what other options do you even have? He knows where you live and the places you frequent, you're not safe anywhere. His hand drifts down to the small of your back as you open the entrance door, hesitantly letting him back into the only safe space you had, willingly allowing him to invade your life.

“Atta girl.” What should feel like praise from an older man only serves as additional mental torture, the sound of the door closing behind you making all hope of surviving him fade away.

“Come sit on my lap.” He walks to the living room as if it's his own home, not even asking for directions, simply being able to navigate his way around like he's been here before— deep inside, you know he has. Your nose starts to sting as he sits down on the couch and forces you to straddle him, your thighs around his, allowing you to feel all the muscle.

“Don't cry…” He taunts, only now making you aware of the hot tears dripping down your cheeks, your lips trembling as he pushes you closer by the ass, pressing your clothed cunt against his hardening dick. His face is buried on he crook of your neck, loudly inhaling your scent as his starts to grind against you, calloused hands roaming all over your pretty body.

“Wanna feel my cock?” The vigorous head shake you give him is enough to make him laugh, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your neck and shoulders, not caring about leaving any marks. You can barely register the sound of his zipper coming down until he's guiding your hand to his warm, hardening dick.

You're too shaky to even do anything about it, disgust and nervousness turning into a dangerous mix, yet Keegan is a patient man. A patient man who gently makes your fingers wrap around his shaft, guiding your movements to jerk him off, getting even harder underneath your touch. Low grunts and muffled moans are spilled right into your ear, clearly getting off despite your very clear fear.

“You're doing so good, princess…” He murmurs. Keegan's free hand starts to sneak his way inside your shirt, slipping past your bra, his thumb brushing past your hardening nipple. Your brain is able to recognize that fight or flight aren't options anymore, so just like a wild animal trying to avoid a fight; you freeze.

Your shaky breaths mingle together, only interrupted by the low groans he lets out, his hand leaving yours for the first time, leaving you unsure of what to do. Despite the tears falling down your cheeks and the muffled whimpers, your hand keeps moving up and down his shaft, not wanting to die by his dirty, blood-tainted hands.

Keegan's mind isn't broken enough to not know it's wrong, yet it has been broken enough to the point he simply doesn't care. Thrown away by his brothers in arms and the marines, he doesn't have anything else to lose. No life purpose, other than to bring others the same pain he has suffered for years.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips as he moves your hand away from his cock, using his tip to move your underwear aside. His free hand goes to the back of your head, encouraging you to hide your pretty, tear-stained face on the crook of his neck, fully muffling your cries the moment he penetrates you. His dick is way too thick for his own good— stretching you open forcefully, despite the way he's actually going out of his way to make it as painless as possible.

“Shh, it's okay, kid. Just enjoy it.” He whispers into your ear, running a reassuring hand up and down your back, starting to move inside you, as if what he's doing could be even remotely enjoyable. A low, throaty moan makes its way out of his lips the moment he manages to bottom out, your body responding to the forced intrusion by getting you wet, not able to register that you don't want it.

Breaking you apart is the closest thing to religion he's ever gotten. Keegan's lips crash against yours as his hips start to thrust up faster and deeper, growing more desperate by the second despite how wrong he knows it is. He shouldn't be enjoying this, yet he's just a broken, terrible man, the little sobs leaving your lips only making him fuck into you harder.

The human body works in odd, awful ways. You don't want this, yet every single nerve inside your cunt is being stimulated by his long shaft, sending signals to your body that make it feel much better after you got wet. The small moan that gets ripped out from your throat makes him break away from the kiss, amusement written all over his face.

Keegan's forehead leans against yours as his hips rock against yours, his breath hot against your face. From this position, you're able to examine his face, taking note of as many details as possible in case he decides to let you leave, no matter how slim the chances are.

Thick, black eyebrows, buzzcut, dark scruff covering his pale cheeks. High cheekbones, light blue eyes, no visible scars or moles.

You repeat it inside your head like a mantra, trying to use it as a replacement to keep your head occupied from the knot starting to tense in your stomach, tightening up more and more with each thrust. You know for a fact you're hating this, yet your body is betraying you, coating his cock with slick.

He pulls out only to slam himself back in, dragging more pathetic moans out of your lips the moment he hits your spongy cervix. The stimulation is enough to make you hide your face on the warm crook of his neck, biting your thumb hard to muffle your own sounds the moment you start tightening up around him, finally giving in to the stimulation.

Your teeth sink deeper into your skin despite the small whiny moan escaping your lips the moment your forced orgasm hits, barely conscious enough to register the cocky laugh above you, feeling his lips connect against your temple, his breath hot on your skin as he manages to pull out, shooting ropes of thick cum all over your stomach.

“See? It wasn't that bad, was it, princess?” You collapse against him with a loud exhale, not able to hold it together anymore.

“Why…?” It's all you can ask, and you're not even sure about the reason you're asking why. Why did he kill your friends? Why did he let you live? Why is he stalking you? Why did he force himself on you? Why is he caressing your body like you're made of glass, as if he didn't just destroy you into thousands of shards?

“Because I'm not right in the head anymore.”

Taglist: @h0ney-mushroom @bangtandaze @elentiyaiswriting @lollycotton @sleepydang @billiousserpent As always, thank you so much @moosch for the amazing art!! 💗💗 world-building with her has been so fucking exciting and I'm happy to finally be writing about Slasher!Keegan after we've been talking about it for months!!<333

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emryses · 2 months

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stick a pin in it

written for @steddiemicrofic march prompt: pin | 388 words | rated: T

During the summer of 1986, Eddie makes himself a new battle vest. Try as they might, they can't quite get Steve Harrington's blood out of the first one; and though Eddie thinks that may add a certain…je no say whatever to it, in the end, he finds an old jean jacket of Wayne’s, chops the arms off and starts all over again.

It doesn’t end up being too difficult. He repurposes patches from the old one. Cuts up an old t-shirt and sews it on the back. Even paints some shit on it with Jane El Hopper-Byers’ paints she lets him borrow. He does it all by hand, like he did the other one, because he likes it. Because it turns out to be pretty decent physical therapy for his bat-eaten muscles. Because it reminds him of the way his mom used to patch up their clothes when he was little, because they couldn’t afford to buy something brand new.

He adds to it all summer long, in bits and pieces as he finds things he wants to attach to it. The vest ends up being an extension of himself, you see. A little bit of his heart on the outside, cloaking himself with it. He adds to the vest, like he adds a gaggle of children to his group of friends, or a kiss from Steve Harrington to his list of first times.

One day, in late August, they sit off to the side of the Harrington pool, teenagers splashing around like children. Steve is laid out like a goddamn Adonis in his tiny swim trunks, sun bathing and delicious. Eddie sews in his cut off jeans, he hasn’t been able to stop looking at Steve all day, chewing on his bottom lip. He watches as Steve reaches down into the folds of the towel on the ground, takes something out, and tosses it to Eddie, and catches it.

“Now what’s this?” Eddie asks. He knows what it is. He knows exactly what it is. It reads, CLASS OF ‘85 under a monogram of HHS.

Steve shrugs. “My class pin. If you want it.” He sounds more nonchalant than Eddie thinks he is, from the blush on his cheeks that he is sure isn’t from the sun. “Thought you might want to put it on your vest.”

#stranger things #steddie #steddie microfic #steddiemicrofic #emwrites

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tetragonia · 1 month

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A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

302 notes · View notes

tzuyuscloud · 5 months

Text

My Loser Kim M.J x fem!deaf reader

A/n: This fic took awhile because I have no knowledge of Sensorineural hearing loss (SHL) whatsoever and wanted to get an understanding so I was reading articles and watching videos. If any information is incorrect please don’t hesitate to correct me respectfully. :)

Pairings: deaf!reader x non idol Kim Minji

Scenario: Kim Minji finds you in the art studio alone after being harassed by fellow students.

Warnings: Mention of blood, bullying, horrible parents, ableism (NEVER BE ABLEIST PEOPLE >:| )

Tags: Romace, college au, friends to lovers, angst??, art student y/n, loser Minji

⋆˙⟡ Star ⋆˙⟡

If my tears fall

Down in my universe

Turns into a new world

Time to find my way back home

As a famous artist said, “painting is just another way of keeping a diary.” And that’s exactly how y/n saw her creative process. As painting. She first started painting when she was 12 years old after she felt like her life was meaningless, she felt like she didn’t have anyone who understood her pain, so she spoke to a canvas. Sneaking into her grandfather’s studio and started splashing paint on the canvas, not caring when drops of color stained her freshly washed uniform.

She would come home and get interrogated by her parents as to why she was covered in paint, and she would sarcastically state the obvious, “i was painting, duh.” Thus being the beginning of her artists life when her parents placed her in an art school where she discovered more of her hidden talents with art.

Now as y/n was in her sophomore year of university, majoring in fine arts but focusing on painting specifically, she improved with every new painting she created. Her classmates envied the fact that she was a natural born genius, but the only thing that made her different than everyone else is the fact that she couldn’t hear.

Y/n’s classmates often sabotaged her works so that they wouldn’t be displayed in competitions or recognized by guest artists. They all envied her to the point where they often hurt her as well.

“Oh my, look what we have here” a group of students, led by one of the board members daughter, walked into the studio where y/n stayed painting late at night. Her body tensed up feeling the familiar vibrations of their footsteps causing her to jump when Jimin placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Whatcha painting?” Jimin said as she bent down to your level causing your arm to shakily create a false line on the brightly decorated canvas, ruining the painting. You closed your eyes hoping that they would disappear along with the world, often times when you we’re overwhelmed you would just close your eyes and turn down your hearing aid, because then the world would actually disappear.

“remember she can’t hear you.” one of Jimin’s little minions retorted causing the leader to roll her eyes.

“don’t be fooled, she has an hearing aid” Jimin then taps the device causing y/n to jump and clutch her ear, she angrily faced Jimin with a frown upon her face, looking eye to eye with the girl. “watch who your glaring at before I make you blind too!” Jimin smacked the girl on the head forcing her to look down,

“you think you’re entering the art competition? Ha, funny. You have no reason to be at this school anyways let alone enter into a competition. You will always be lower than everyone else-”

Jimin was cut off by a painful feeling that lingered on her cheek causing her and everyone around her to gasp and stare at y/n in shock. “the only low one is you.” y/n whispered, her voice shaky as she was now afraid of what was to come.

“oh~ how brave of our little y/n” Jimin smiled before grabbing your hair. While the rest of the girls knifed the painting, shredding up the canvas.

“ayo Minji! Make sure to grab everything from out of the locker that is labeled with red tape.”

“bruh, you literally said this already, I got it, I got it. How hard can going into the art building and grabbing your materials be?” Minji groaned on the phone, as she walked towards the entrance of the art building. It was pushing midnight and Danielle needed her art supplies that she had forgotten, but ended up catching a cold and wasn’t able to get them, so Minji being a great friend offered to grab them for the girl.

“alright alright! Thanks again Min, I owe you one!” Danielle smiled through the phone before hanging up. Minji walked through the halls, searching for studio 214A when she heard small noises coming from a fairly lit room. She peaked her head in the entrance and found a small girl sitting on the ground picking what looked like broken materials up while wiping away at her nose.

Once Minji squinted to get a closer look she saw what she was wiping wasn’t snot but blood, causing her eyes to widen and immediately run to the girl. “Hey bro are you alright, your nose-“ As the girl looked up at Minji from the shadow she casted. Minji saw that her lip was bruised and she had a scar on her head as well. “who did this to you?” she frowned. Y/n didn’t respond but just stared up the taller woman with tired eyes.

“can I help you with your wounds at least?” Minji asked again hoping for at least a nod. Y/n then pointed to the expensive hearing device that laid crushed into small pieces on the ground next to her. Minji felt her heart sink into her stomach as her eyes paneled to the broken device to y/n’s bleeding ear in which the device used to sit in.

Minji then squeaked out a small, “y-you can’t hear me?- minji don’t be stupid” before grabbing her phone and typing out sentences.

Who did this to you? Im gonna help you with your wounds if that is okay with you?

She faced the screen towards y/n and gently places it in her hands. Y/n looked up at Minji with soft eyes before typing something back.

Jimin and her friends.

Okay

Y/n handed the phone back to Minji and Minji never ran to grab a first aid kit so fast in her life once she got y/n’s consent to help her. She gently dabbed all the scars with cotton balls and places bandaids on them all, before picking up the pieces to the very expensive device and placed them in a plastic baggie for y/n.

Once she helped her clean up everything, including herself she offered to walk y/n home.

Do you stay alone?

Minji shook her head no at the question before softly speaking, “I live with my friend.” she said quietly leaving Minji shocked. She didn’t know the girl could speak, but she also knew very little about the girl and her her disability in the first place.

“What’s your name?” Minji asked and earning silence as she stupidly didn’t type out the question.

What’s your name?

Mine is Kim Minji

Y/n stared up at Minji and smiled, “Park f/n” she spoke. Every time y/n spoke, Minji got excited inside as the girl’s soft voice healed something inside of her. The whole way to y/n’s apartment was filled with Minji asking questions and eventually exchanging numbers where Minji texted y/n all through the night.

Minji still couldn't get the phrase "Jimin and her friends" out of her head. Doing everything she could to try and figure out who exactly Jimin was and why she would ever physically harm anyone.

Minji "Dani I have a question." The bright faced Aussie looked up at her best friend with a smile,

"What's up?"

"Mmm you're in the art department a lot," Minji paused "do you know someone who goes by the name Jimin?" just then Danielle's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp.

"ugh!! everyone knows her! Look I'm not one to talk behind people's backs but she is a bully" Dani huffed out with an animated frown. Danielle was never one to talk badly about people, in fact she spoke to everyone no matter how they came off or appeared, and if she saw someone who was sad, all she had to do was flash her signature smile and suddenly all clouds were replaced with sunshine and warmth. "Why do you ask though, Min?"

"Well when I went to get your supplies last night...there was this girl-erm Park f/n, and she was hurt badly. She said Jimin and her friends did it to her and that they always hurt her." Just then Minji was looking down and picking at her fingers, something she has a habit of doing when she's anxious.

Danielle jumped up from her spot on the sofa, "Wait...y/n?!" she slapped her hand over her mouth causing Minji's eyes to widen.

"w-what? is there something wrong?"

Danielle sat down after calming herself down to make her poor friend less worried, "that poor girl, she's in majority of my classes but I haven't noticed she was being assaulted." tears welled in the younger girl's eyes. "I try talking to her but she just rolls her eyes and looks away. I don't think she likes me"

Minji comforted her best friend as she pouted about the thought of someone potentially not liking her. "Dani"

"hmm?" the brunette faced her friend.

"y/n is deaf. Have you not known?" Minji asked genuinely. Danielle dropped the fruit that was in her hand and slowly turned to Minji.

She didn't know wether to keep her mouth open or close it but she looked like a fish out of water, "Im such a horrible person, everyday I would ask her questions and try to make conversation but- wow."

Minji cut the girl off, "well from what I have learned she can hear when she has her hearing aid, but recently it was broken because of those bitches. And when I catch them I will-" Danielle cut the girl off with a worried stare.

"Hey I know you are worried about y/n but violence does not solve more violence! What we need to do is report this to the school immediately to get justice for y/n." Danielle stood up proudly, while Minji scoffed from her place on the couch.

"Beating Jimin's ass seems like enough justice for me" she mumbled, earning a glare from the peaceful girl.

The older girl stood up, patting her best friend on the back, "well good luck with your peace treaties. Im gonna go take y/n out to eat"

"oh a date?~" Danielle teased causing Minji to blush, "no! she doesn't like me like that"

"But YOU never denied not liking her so, a one sided date, eh?" Danielle urged on, Minji grabbed the nearest pillow from the couch and smacked her friend on the head before running out the shared apartment.

"Ill be back!" she shouted on her way out.

Entering the small cafe, Minji noticed how you doodled in a sketchbook as you waiting for her to arrive.

“Hi y/n!” she greeted waving, silence. Her brows furrowed in confusion going to wave again but then as she walked to take a seat, she noticed that the small pink device was no longer in your ear.

Once she sat down you looked up feeling her presence, flashing her a small smile. You took out a small, cutely decorated notebook that was filled with stickers, and a pen before scribbling a few words down.

Hi!! :) I apologize, I can’t get a new hearing aid until next month. My parents are too busy to ship it to me

What kind of parents are too busy to tend to their own child?! Minji thought to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder why they would brush her off like that.

It’s okay, we can talk like this. Look.

Minji then tapped the table in y/n’s line of sight to get her attention. Her hands then started moving, forming words that were a bit choppy but still clearly showed that she put effort and time into learning.

‘Im learning sign language so you can speak comfortably’ her heart was racing afraid she messed up a few signs, because y/n just stared. She then smiled and looked down shyly trying to contain her excitement as no one has ever tried learning sign language to try and communicate with her, not even her own parents.

Y/n’s fingers swiftly flowed in different directions, speaking freely and comfortably. Although Minji couldn’t catch half of what she was saying, she still gazed at her with bright eyes.

“Thank you” Y/n whispered as she signed so that Minji could learn along with her, “for being nice to me” she said softly, looking up at Minji’s big brown eyes that never left hers.

Minji had ordered their food and drinks, sharing everything she had as y/n told her that she rarely tries new stuff because she is never introduced to anything.

I used to travel and do fun things before…the accident

Y/n gently pushed the book towards Minji as she cutely stuffed her face with fruit, earning a slight giggle from the opposite girl.

“Accident?” Minji mumbled to herself. Y/n let out a “hmm?” as she saw Minji’s lips move.

Accident?

Minji wrote but then quickly scribbled more,

You don’t have to tell me, it sounds personal

Y/n laughed at the panic writing, waving her hand and brushing it off.

It’s okay, I will tell you another time

You nodded before changing the subject, engaging in conversation that had you both laughing for hours without realizing how much time has passed. On your way back to her apartment, you heard her let out a small gasp and point to the small arcade that brightly lit up the evening skies. She took your hand, pulling you towards the machines as she eyes all of the plushies.

Letting out of the words “I want” slightly below a whisper. Minji couldn’t help but cave into her cute squeals of excitement as she pointed to all of the plushies she eyed. Pulling her wallet out she placed two bills into the machine bringing it to life.

Y/n excitedly jumped to hold the levers and when she thought she had the correct spot, she pushed the button. The claw grabbed the stuffed bunny, bringing it to the drop but dropping the bunny right next to it instead, before powering down.

The girl turned to Minji, puffing her bottom lip out in a pout before turning to walk away. Before she could take another step, Minji grabbed her arm, bringing her to a stop. The older girl then placed more money into the machine, focusing hard on the task at hand as she pushed the button. She hadn’t realized she closed her eyes, hoping that she would win the plush before she was shaken awake by y/n who was jumping around with the pink plushie in her arms.

“Bun bun! Bun bun!” she squeaked happily prancing around Minji who watched with sparkles in her eyes. She wrapped her arm around the smaller girl’s shoulder, walking her home before it got too late.

Y/n stood on her porch with a red tint to her face as she failed to look Minji in the eyes. “m’bye.” she waved, “thank you for winning bun bun” she spoke again and before she turned to enter her home, she quickly gave Minji a peck on the cheek before running inside.

Minji on the other hand, was stunned.

“She wants me bro!” The older girl said as her roommate rolled her eyes, laughing at the description story of their “hang out”

“That’s cute, she sounds adorable I wanna be her friend” Dani pouted remembering the fact that, said girl side eyes her during class. “what about me do you think she hates?”

Minji’s thick brows spoke before she did, “I wouldn’t say she hates you, she just doesn’t let her guard down easily” which confused her since she spoke to you easily. “I don’t know why she clings to me so quickly though”

Danielle laughed, “are you serious Min, you’re literally like a golden retriever. Your aura is so welcoming.” Minji blushed at the compliments,

“you think im a golden retriever girl” she wiggled her brows causing the both of them to burst into laughter. “but on a serious note, I think I like y/n”

The Australian girl looked at her roommate with a ‘duh bitch’ look, “I thought we all knew this?” she said with sass.

“I- goodnight”

Given y/n’s situation, she still had no hearing aid, causing her hell during her lectures as she had to rely on notes from generous classmates. She came from a well off family, growing her her parents would take her and her older brother on vacations and many outings, spoiling them, especially y/n since she was their princess. Treating her to whatever she wanted. Despite being handed whatever as a kid, her mother was still very strict and controlling at times.

You were always sent to every educational lesson after school as well as extracurriculars, and once she found out you had a talent in art, she ran with it and enrolled you in art programs. The life you had before the accident was chaotic, you didn’t enjoy it but you tolerated it because it was better than most. Though after the accident, you were pushed away. You were no longer the “princess” but more so the “burden.” You vividly remember your mother screaming at you to listen to what she was saying, even though you couldn’t clearly distinguish what she was saying.

She was in denial about her daughter being deaf to the point where she refused to tell anyone. Instead she blocked you out from the world, Park y/n had disappeared from the wealthy social circle and sent to study at a well off university. Anything to keep you out of your mother’s sight.

A knock sounded at your apartment door causing your roommate to jump up from her spot at the kitchen table to grab it. You looked up at the shuffles to find your older brother entering the place, smiling as she made conversation with your roommate.

He then looked at you with a smile before signing, “how are you, princess?” as you sat on the couch curled in a ball under blankets. You flashed him a thumbs up. You watched as he pulled a pink bag from behind his back, eyes following his every move as he handed you the bag. You looked up at him with a confused face considering there were no major holidays or birthdays near.

You opened the box and saw a brand new hearing aid. You looked up at your brother before tearing up. “thank you” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around him. Part of you didn’t wanna let go as it felt like that was the only family you had that truly cared about you.

“Of course you know…since I caused it” he whispered as he rubbed his neck. You knew he would forever feel everlasting guilt for what he did.

Summer of 2016

“Wait for me!” scrawny little y/n ran as fast as she could behind her brother and his friends. Her pink sundress flying with each stride, and her bare feet connecting with the grass.

She huddled around the older boys as they all piled fireworks on top of each other in the field. Different kind of pyro tied together and linked by a singular string that would be lit.

“This is gonna be awesome! I can’t wait to see the explosion” Y/n’s brother exclaimed, tackling one of his friends. Y/n was oblivious to what was actually happening, and got easily distracted by the beautiful flowers that coincidentally surrounded the pile of pyro.

She wasn’t aware of the stack being lit until she heard constant shouting from her brother and the rest of the guys. “Y/N MOVE!!” As she turned around she was thrown back as the fireworks went off in front of her. She felt someone pick her up saving her from the rest of the loud explosion.

All she could do was cry as she covered both of her ears. “It hurts!” the little girl sobbed. From the commotion her parents ran outside to see what had happened and was met with their daughter being cradled in her brother’s arms crying. She was covered in burn marks from head to toe.

“What happened?! What did you boys do?!!” Mrs. Park shouted, grabbing her daughter. Leaving no time to explain she rushed off to the hospital with her husband not too far behind with the boys.

Hours spent in the waiting room, the doctor had eventually came bearing the news of their daughter. “Miss y/n is doing fine. She is very brave for her age” he complimented.

Mrs. Park smiled faintly, “thank you doctor, is she healthy?” The man’s smile faded at the question before exhaling.

“Your daughter has hearing loss in both ears, she can respond to some sound but only depending how close she is to the noise. We recommend seeing a specialist for ears so that she can get a proper hearing aid that works best for her.” Mrs. Park threw herself into her husband’s chest with loud sobs.

“What am I gonna do with her now! I can’t let the world know she’s deaf!” she sobbed causing a gasp from the doctor. Y/n’s brother on the other hand felt guilty for what happened never thinking he could look his baby sister in the eyes again.

Moving forward, y/n got left at home and forgotten by her mother. She no longer received attention, not even basic conversations from her mother. She was put in more activities and after school classes to stay out of sight of her mother. The world had forgotten that the Park family had a daughter as she was hidden.

Present day

Y/n and her brother, Kai sat on the couch catching up about each other as Kai took over their father’s company.

“How’s mom and dad? Have they asked about me?” y/n whimpered, hating the fact that her own parents lost love for her, their one and only daughter.

Kai pulled his little sister in for a hug, “Father worries about you, he always talks about how he misses his little princess” you smiled at the thought of your father missing you, the thought warming your heart. “but mother. She’s still a cold hearted b-“

“woah okay okay, I see” You lightly laughed.

Kai then changed the subject, “What about you though sis, how has school been?”

All of a sudden you blurted out, “I think I like someone.” covering your mouth quickly. Kai started squealing like a teenage girl,

“omg omg what’s their name!?” He clapped his hands causing you to burst into laughter.

“Stop being silly, haha. Her name is Kim Minji” you said with a deep red tint forming on your cheeks. “We went to a cafe together and she helped me when I was…stuck on…an art project haha” you laughed nervously. You never wanted Kai to get worried about you if you told him about Jimin and her clan.

“she wants you” He joked, but little did you both know she actually did.

Minji: Would you like to go on a date Saturday evening?

Minji was pacing back and forth her apartment as she panicked at the message she impulsively sent to y/n. “You will be fine girlfriend, I doubt she would say no” Danielle gave the older girl a pat on the shoulder to reassure her.

“But what if she thinks Im some old creep who just happened to win her a plushie at the arcade and learn sign language?!” Minji pulled at her hair causing Danielle to roll her eyes.

“Puh-lease. She would never-“ the sound of the phone going off caught their attention. Minji quickly picked the phone up, reading the message aloud.

“I would love to, smiley face. SHE WANTS ME!” The Korean girl shouted before jumping around the apartment.

Dani laughed as she walked back into her room, “Nerd”

Minji laid in the sand next to y/n taking in the evening sky after a long day of playing in the water and writing in the sand. “I’ve never had this much fun since I was a kid” Y/n whispered turning to face Minji. “Thank you for accepting me Min” The words left Minji speechless at the thought of people not accepting her because of her disability.

Minji sat up, causing y/n to follow as she was concerned by the girl’s sudden movements. “You’re more than what people think you are y/n, and those who don’t accept you don’t deserve you because you are everything anyone could ask for and I-“ Pausing abruptly her heart started racing as she almost slipped up and confessed her feelings to the younger girl.

“You what?” Y/n smiled cheekily, playfully hitting Minji’s arm. Her face turning redder than the sunset as she started fumbling like the loser she was.

‘I like you, y/n’

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, hoping she wasn’t hallucinating what she just saw you sign to her. “Like…like as a friend or-“

Before she could finish her sentence Minji grabbed her face, finally feeling the softness of y/n’s lips, the softness she had always imagined being on hers since the day she saw you in the art studio. You returned the kiss pulling her closer to you afraid it was all a lucid dream that would fade away as soon as you let go.

“Like you like you, as in I want you to be my girlfriend” Minji panted as she broke the kiss that had you feeling all kinds of butterflies.

“Such a loser” y/n giggled and threw herself in Minji’s arms. “But you’re my loser”

“SHE SAID YES!!” Minji stood up cheering for everyone to hear, “Park y/n is my girlfriend!!!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the action and when Minji turned to face you again, you couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in her eyes.

Pulling her into a hug while burying your face in her shirt you mumbled, “Kim Minji is my loser”

#kim minji x fem reader #newjeans scenarios #minji newjeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans #kpop gg #kpop scenarios

661 notes · View notes

perlelune · 11 months

Text

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned.

You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights.

Mindy spots you right away and waves at you.

"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.

They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head.

Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part.

You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends.

You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.

A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence.

Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?

Those two have been through hell and back.

"Have you guys seen Connor?"

While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin.

"One-track minded, huh?"

Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."

Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."

"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens.

Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.

"I’ll see you guys later."

"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.

Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late.

Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up.

As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.

An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you.

"Hi."

"Hey, looking good."

"You too, cowboy."

You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets.

You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had.

"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours.

It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along.

You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.

You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.

"Hey again," you greet.

He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.

"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."

Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words.

College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way.

Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention.

You pivot in your high heels.

Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you.

"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"

Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you.

"Just ran a bit late," you mumble.

His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"

Pursing your mouth, you hesitate.

"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"

He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him.

His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room.

"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"

You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze.

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."

His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.

Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway.

"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?"

At first, you’re a bit confused.

Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room.

Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much.

Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer.

You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm.

"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"

He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away.

You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.

Both you and Connor step outside.

Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him.

He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless.

"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves.

When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest.

A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you.

"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.

Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp.

"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."

His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes.

"Connor, please…" you whimper.

Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer.

"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."

His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice.

This isn’t nice.

And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.

But things don’t get to wander any further.

In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit.

As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson.

Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud.

Time stands still when your gaze lifts.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.

The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.

The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena.

Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor.

The world becomes red.

A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute.

When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you.

With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet.

His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist.

A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask.

"This is the part where you run, princess."

Right…

It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might.

It’s the sensible thing to do.

And you want to move. You should move. But you can't.

Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead.

All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement.

The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest.

His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse.

Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular.

Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest.

The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.

A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife.

His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush.

Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.

He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork.

This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends.

Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow.

You wait… An eternity it seems.

For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness.

Yet nothing comes.

When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement.

You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.

The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight.

Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears.

Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.

For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.

Because this cannot be real.

This cannot have happened.

The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop.

"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.

If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now.

"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events.

The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart.

Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound.

It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you.

You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.

Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you.

"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob.

The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.

"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.

You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.

Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did.

You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough.

The thought makes you sob harder.

Mindy rubs circles on your back.

You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers.

"Where’s Anika?"

"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."

You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened.

Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog.

"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?"

You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.

You don’t get it.

Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?

Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it.

#ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x bimbo!reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream vi #scream

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calliopeslyrics · 6 days

Text

firegirl

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Hephaestus! reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: mention/description of drowning, very little angst.

summary: in which a date by the lake goes wrong, including a lack of swim lessons and tearful confessions.

You’d heard about the stories of the god’s wrath. Hera’s jealousy, Demeter’s wrath, Aphrodite’s envy - your mother had warned you through the tales of Psyche and Io and Persephone long since you were a child wading through fire. A child born of ash and fire, that was what you were. A force of destruction, born only to create with the very hands that burn through flesh and blood.

The stories didn’t mean much at the time, ancient tales of caution now serving as bedtime stories for a little girl that refused to sleep due to constant nightmares. But you should’ve paid better attention, should’ve noticed the urgency in your mothers tone when she warned you again and again that the gods are not forgiving gods.

But maybe facing a jealous goddess’s wrath was better than any other gift your father had given you. Blessed with the knowledge of forgery and fire, you should’ve known that you’d have to stay away from large bodies of water unless you wanted to turn a pool into a hot tub.

You never really learned to swim, not in the way that counted. Sure, you knew how to hold your breath and doggy paddle from one end to another, but your expertise in swimming never extended past the basics. It was something you weren’t so keen on sharing, not when everyone knows how to swim.

When you were smaller, taking a bath meant going outside and having your mom spray you with the hose before you could turn the water to steam. Pool days meant dipping your toes and fingers in the water, and nothing else.

You can look, but don’t touch, your mom had told after one particular accident. It was your cousin’s birthday party, another pool party to relax during the sweltering days of summer. While your cousins and their friends played chicken and cannonball into the water, you stayed at the edge of the pool, watching and just wishing to feel more than a droplet of water splash onto you.

The gods must have heard your wishing because the next thing you knew, you were submerged into water. Little six year old you in six feet deep water, what could go wrong? You don’t remember much from that day, only that you screamed and splashed and cried and soon the other kids screamed and splashed around you too.

It wasn’t until later that you learned that due to an overheating issue in the pool’s pipes, the pool’s water began to heat up until it was as boiling as the hot tub. A freak accident, the pool company called it after getting bombarded with angry parents threatening to sue. You also learned more years later that your panicked state brought that pool to its near boiling temperature.

From that day forward, your mom made a strict rule - no more pool parties, no more swim lessons, and no more unnecessary contact with water. It was too dangerous, she said. And you were too young to argue, so you agreed.

It wasn't until you arrived at Camp Half Blood when you realized how much you were missing out because of that rule. The camp itinerary was filled with fun activities that had dangerous monsters sprinkled in between the activities - perfect for someone who has no idea what world they've gotten themselves into.

There was pegasus riding in the morning, then water balloon fights between cabins, some days had sword practice against some monsters in the forest, then a lunch break while the satyrs played ancient songs on their pipes. You often watched other campers jump into the lake during the hot summer days, wondering if you’d ever get to swim freely like they do.

You quickly learned the dynamic within the camp, at how quickly your life can change with a simple symbol. The day that a fiery hammer hovered over your head was the day that you realized you weren’t alone. Your absent father wasn’t a piece of shit that couldn’t afford child support but the god of fire and forgery - Hephaestus.

All the weird coincidences in your life seemed to make sense. Your constant sweating and overly warm body, your skill with handiwork despite having no experience with tools - it was in your blood to create dangerous flames, to burn and rebuild in the same breath.

The other children of Hephestus didn’t seem to mind having an addition to their cabin, welcoming you with open arms that were stained with grease and oil. They were the siblings you never had, your quirks within the outside world becoming a norm within Cabin 9.

No one seemed to mind the constant overheating from their bodies or the unfinished projects that were scattered along the floor, no one made a face at the sweat that slipped down your face from a hard day’s work of building and destroying and rebuilding again. It was like you could finally belong somewhere, maybe you could even call it a home.

Your siblings never complained about the countless forgery, the mixture of sweat and smoke clinging onto your clothes. There were more days where grease stained your hands and face, which left you in a sour mood after laundry duty, or when you wished you could skip dinner to finish this project because you’re so close to getting it to work.

Overalls and aprons became your favorite items to wear, your pockets filled with scraps of metal and loose screws that you’ve scrapped from the other cabins. You’ve learned how to

But despite the warm welcome you received from your siblings and the amazing cabin life you adapted to, you could never shake the jealousy within you when it came to lake days. You’d often spend your time watching the campers with a longing gaze, wishing you could join them in the cool water that left them squealing and laughing when they touched the water.

Luke had suggested you spend time in the lake with him for the afternoon, saying something about needing a day to yourselves. And you agreed - most days seemed to blur together after an influx of Ares children played too roughly amongst themselves. Shields and spears needed modifications, swords needed to be resharpened, even armor needed to be fixed from some mysterious stabbings that appeared along the chest plates.

So there you were, standing just a couple feet away from the lake, towel in hand as if you were ever going to get into the water. Luke wasted no time getting ready for his swim, as evident by the smears of sunscreen along his nose and cheeks that hadn’t been smoothed properly.

There was something about the lake that always had Luke acting excited. Maybe it was because he could step away from his duties, dropping the mask of confidence that he carried around the younger campers. Or maybe it was the sense of normalcy the lake brought, as if you weren’t demigods fighting for your lives everyday and just a couple of normal teenagers enjoying a hot summer day.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” Luke asked, his calm tone bringing you out of your thoughts. He gave you a questioning glance at your attire, a simple once over before raising an eyebrow at you. You were still dressed in your camp shirt and shorts, stained with grease and oil from your morning in the forgery.

You shook your head, giving Luke a sympathetic smile. “I can’t.” you said simply, brushing at the stains in your shirt as if it were the only thing stopping you from swimming. Your towel laid limp in your hold, still folded from the years of sitting in your closet, and you made a mental note to throw it out one of these days.

Luke still doesn’t know of your mother’s rule or the pool incident all those years ago - mostly because you just didn’t know how to tell him and because he never asked. There was hardly a day where you could have a day to yourselves as demigods, constantly preparing for war against monsters and gods and each other. Swimming seemed like the least of your worries when Zeus was threatening to smite down a certain demigod when his lightning bolt went missing.

“You don’t know how to swim?” Luke snorted, giving you a disbelieving look. He was the one to suggest a pool date in the first place and while you were inclined to agree because you do love seeing Luke shirtless, you soon began to wonder if you should’ve declined his offer.

You rolled out your beach towel, a burnt orange color similar to your camp shirt, and sat stubbornly in the middle. You left your sandals on the grass, enjoying the slight freedom from the You didn’t bother shrugging off your clothes despite your swim suit underneath, it’s not like you’d get it wet anyway.

You can look, but don’t touch.

“Fire and water don’t mix well, Luke.” you scowled, crossing your arms defensively. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body began to heat up as well. In an attempt to distract yourself, you grabbed a small bottle of sunscreen from your bag, relishing in the coolness of the cream as you applied it to your arms and legs. “It’s basic science, you nerd.”

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, casually tugging his Camp Half Blood shirt off and tossing it by his shoes. He was always so comfortable in his body, his sleeves usually rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps that were toned from years worth of training. And though you’ve been dating for a while now, you tried not to stare at his defined stomach, at how his biceps casually flexed with every movement.

Luke cleared his throat, and you quickly looked away from his body, catching his gaze instead. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, giving you a suggestive smirk. You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from Luke to hide your own smile.

It’s been two years since you first started dating Luke and yet he still tries to court and flirt with you like the first day you met. His ego was constantly inflated with your stares and small flirtatious quips, though you loved to act annoyed at how easily he revels in your attention. Lingering touches and lovesick glances was the trademark of your relationship with Luke, most dates filled with sneaking away from your camp to escape the reality of your lives.

“You wish, Castellan.” You huffed, slowly toeing your own shoes off. You didn’t mind not knowing how to swim, you never needed it growing up. Instead of swim lessons, your mom put you in welding and crafting lessons. Instead of wading through the deep end of pools, you learned how much heat you could handle from a fire before you could feel the burn.

You never complained about your lack of experience, it didn’t seem like something worth complaining about. But now, as the summer days started to grow hotter and hotter, you started to envy anyone who could splash around in the lake.

Luke shrugged, taking no mind to your tone and immediately getting into the water. He let out a satisfied groan at the temperature, wadding further and further into the water until it was up to his waist. You watched with a smile as Luke let himself get used to the water, occasionally trying to float when the sun wasn’t in his face.

“Are you sure you don't want to come in? The water is soooo nice” Luke looked up at you from his spot in the lake, his hair already sopping wet from his plunges underwater. It took all of your strength not to let your gaze wander along his chest, down further to his abs before the water obstructed your view.

You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, casually toeing the water as if you were checking the temperature. The cold water of the lake stung at first, always clashing with the overly warmness of your body. But after keeping your feet dipped in the water. It felt nice, refreshing even, to feel the biting cold of the water against the heat of your skin.

For a second, you forgot that you were the daughter of the fire god, blessed with eternal warmth and cursed with hotheadedness. You were just another body in the water, enjoying the refreshing cold the water offered after a long day’s work of crafting. The water seemed to call to you, inviting you closer to the crystal clear deep of the lake, promising an ice cold plunge that would soothe your aching muscles.

A splash of cold water to your face brought you back to reality, and you opened your eyes to glare at the perpetrator. Instead of facing your annoying boyfriend, you found yourself face to face with a guilty looking son of Poseidon.

Percy Jackson winced at your glare, giving you an awkward wave. The water was at his shoulders, though the boy seemed to have no trouble standing along the deep end with your boyfriend. You waved back, giving the boy a small smile while he streamed out his apologies as quickly as he could.

“I meant to hit Luke, I swear!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. Another wave followed his hands movements and splashed you again, drenching your clothes in ice cold water. You wiped your hair from your face, letting out a hiss at the freezing sensation, but gave the boy a dismissive wave. “Sorry! Sorry again!”

“Percy, stop drenching my girlfriend,” Luke said with a laugh, splashing water onto the boy. The water moved around Percy smoothly, as though the waves had a mind of its own, and crashed upon another camper nearby. In retaliation, Percy swept more water towards Luke, still splashing you with droplets whenever Luke dodged and moved around to avoid the water.

Though you couldn’t join them, you enjoyed watching Luke relax on days like this - where his duties as cabin counselor didn’t weigh on him and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating another unclaimed child in his already crammed cabin. Instead, he was roughhousing with Percy, now determined to win whatever made up game they had thought of.

“I didn’t mean to!” Percy exclaimed, still waving his hands around. Stronger waves surged towards you, hitting you with more force until you were soaking wet along the edge of the lake. Luke laughed and launched at the boy, wading deeper and deeper along the lake until Percy disappeared beneath the water and reappeared somewhere else.

You don’t remember what happened next.

One moment, Luke is splashing more water onto Percy and you’re laughing at how they’re moving within the water. Then in another a giant wave rushes at you, immediately pulling you deep into the water. Your surprised gasp is muffled by the sound of moving water and before you knew it, you were engulfed by the freezing sensation all around you.

The water was cold, ice cold, stinging your entire body with the freezing temperature as you fought against the invisible force in the water. You opened your mouth to scream, to call for Luke or Percy or anyone that could help, but water filled your mouth and lungs and all you could do was panic. Above you, you could see Luke and Percy halt in their roughplaying, their bodies still as you struggled underwater.

Swim, you needed to swim.

But you didn’t know how, didn’t know anything other than to frantically kick at the water, your arms reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. The pounding in your head wouldn’t stop as you tried to push your way up, towards the surface that seemed to move further and further away from your reach.

You can look, but don’t touch, those mocking words echoed in your mind once again, taunting you. A small part of you wanted to give up, there was no point in fighting a losing battle. But as you kicked at the water, pushing yourself up,up,up against the numbing water, you wondered how much longer you could struggle before anyone would help.

Panic clawed at your chest as the roaring of the waves crashed over you again and again. Your lungs burned, your heart pounding wildly with fear at the prospect that you might not be able to make it to the surface. You could hear the muffled shouting from above, the sound of someone shouting your name though you could barely hear it.

A disgruntled sound came from your mouth, weak and sad, as your arms and legs burned in agony with every movement. The burning in your lungs only grew and the salty taste in your mouth made you want to gag as you slowed your flailing to a stop. You weren’t sure if you were crying or if your eyes were burning from the water, you couldn’t tell anymore when all you could do was let yourself sink slowly to the bottom.

All you could do was stare at the surface, watching the light slowly dim as the silhouettes above you rushed towards you. You thought of Luke, how he wanted to have a lake party with his girlfriend before the last days of summer ended. Was that his voice calling out your name, or were you starting to hallucinate? You weren’t sure anymore, not when the water numbed your entire body and the cold turned into a comforting feeling of nothingness all around you.

Maybe your mother was wrong, you thought as your eyes closed, maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all. A rushing sound of water filled your ears, or maybe that was another thing your mind was making up. Maybe you could rest for a bit, let your body relax before you’d swim back to the surface.

Rest - rest was good you decided. With the last bit of consciousness that you had, you thought of Luke one more time before everything faded to black, and your body felt like the nothingness that surrounded you.

Pressure against your chest was the first thing you felt, the thump, thump, thump of something against your chest in a rhythmic beat crushing your chest. It continued in a familiar pattern, thump, thump, thump until more pressure filled your throat and lungs - air.

You woke up with a start, sitting upright and spitting out water you didn’t know you had in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, air finally filling your lungs again as you took in deep, wild breaths. The lights were too bright, blinding you are you tried to take in your surroundings, searching for something familiar to ground you.

The sound of murmuring surrounded you, and you found yourself staring at concerned campers still clad in their swimwear and summer clothes. Sandy blonde hair, deep tans, some with freckles and others with almost glowing eyes - you recognized them as the children of Apollo, all watching you from their spots around your cot.

“What happened?” you rasped, glancing up at the closest person around you - a boy around Percy’s age with a grim look on his face. You recognized him from some of the games, he was more known for his healing skills than anything though he was equally as dangerous with a bow. But you couldn’t remember his name, not when the slight ringing in your ears filled your head.

The boy sighed, wiping his brow as he shooed the rest of the onlookers away. The children of Apollo murmured amongst themselves as they were ushered away, concerned glances cast your way as you watched the boy move with authority. Though he was shorter than some of his siblings, the blond carried himself as if he were wiser beyond his years.

You almost felt bad for him, seeing the same weight of responsibility that constantly hounded Luke crash upon the boy, probably more with the responsibility to heal the wounded. If he had any sense of resentment for his job, the head counselor didn’t show it, save for the tired look on his face once the final camper left your cot.

You attempted to lift yourself from your cot, barely bringing your legs over the edge before hissing in pain. Soreness shot from your thighs down to your calves, and you dug the palms of your hands into the soft mattress as you continued to move towards the edge.

As if realizing your plan, the blond rushed to the side of your cot, holding onto your shoulders in warning. Though he was younger, the child of Apollo was not weak. His grip tightened on your shoulder, as if holding you in place, and you didn't dare challenge his hold. He stared at you, blue eyes daring you to move any closer to the edge, and you felt compelled to heed the hidden warning in his gaze.

“You drowned, I don’t even think calling you lucky is the right thing to describe your situation.” he said softly, his grip never loosening. He reminded you of those doctors you see on those dramatic shows back at home, with a stern and yet disappointed look on his face that made him look older than he really was. “I don’t know how long you were out, but you didn’t have a pulse when they brought you here…” He trailed off, and you sunk into your bed at the realization that you were more than just unconscious. Gods, you almost died drowning. An embarrassed flush spread at your cheeks at the image of the younger campers watching you horribly flail around in the water. You made a mental note to look for swimming lessons from the naiads around the lake, as if they’d be more help than the only child of Poseidon in camp.

“Is Luke-”

“He’s taking a break, he’s been here since you got here.” he said, his light blue eyes gleaming with a knowing look. You let out a small sigh of relief, falling back into the soft pillows of the Apollo cabin’s cot. The pain in your arms and legs had now dulled to soreness, and you knew you’d have to take it easy for the next few days until you could return to the forgery again.

The camper didn’t say anything else as he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers of the healing station. You’re not sure how long you were out for, and a small part of you was too afraid to ask. The knowledge of the time that passed while the children of Apollo tried to bring you back to consciousness made your head feel dizzy and something like bile threatened to rise at the thought of Luke seeing you like that.

Sometime later, the familiar sound of the dinner bell rang throughout camp. Voices all flooded outside the cabin, conversations carrying into your side of the Apollo cabin as the campers made their way to the dining pavilion. You’re pretty sure you heard your name in a couple of the conversations, and you turned away from the window to avoid the wandering gazes of the curious campers walking by.

The door to the cabin opened and the setting sun’s light peered into the cabin, bringing a dramatic backlight to whoever entered. You tilted your head towards the light, eyes blinking at the golden light as you took in the silhouette of none other than your boyfriend.

Ah, Will Solace, you suddenly remembered the familiar freckles and subtle Texan accent that could only belong to one child of Apollo here. You’ve seen him run throughout camp a couple times, sometimes wandering close to

“She’s been up for some time,” Will murmured, more to Luke than you. Luke mumbled something to Will before moving past the boy, walking up to your cot, pressing his fingers against your palm before gently brushing his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his soft touch, glancing up at him for the first time since the incident.

“Hi,” you whispered softly, looking up at Luke with a sudden shyness. Part of you wanted to hide under your covers, to pretend that you lost your memory and conveniently forgot everything that happened at the lake. But the bloodshot red in Luke’s eyes and slight frown on his lips had a pang of hurt echo throughout your chest at the realization of just how devastating Luke looked.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, looking away slightly while he blinked his tears away, and you glanced at your hands instead. You gave him the time he needed, holding his hand with shaking fingers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry for….everything.”

You frowned at Luke’s words, at the sullen look in his face and guilt in his tone. He was always so quick to blame himself when things went wrong, so selfless and yet selfishly taking the blame. It was the burden he always seemed to carry as one of the eldest campers, to accept more and more responsibility until the weight broke you down.

“It’s not your fault,” you said softly. Guilt lay heavy in your words, at your own fault for scaring Luke this way. But he needed comfort, he needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and you were okay with ignoring what happened if it meant that Luke would calm down.“It was an accident, that’s all.”

Luke continued, as if he didn’t hear you, his words coming out in a jumbled stream of panicked breaths. You could practically see his train of thought, the anxious thoughts leading with what if, what if, what if, pulling him down a rabbit hole of worse and worse situations. “I should’ve known. I wasn’t thinking and next thing I knew, you were underwater-”

“Luke,” you said sternly, dropping his hand. He turned towards you, that same sad look still in his eyes, now amplified at your tone. Gods, what you would give to make it go away, to make him laugh once more and see that stupid smile you love so much. “I’m okay. I just can’t swim, it’s not a big deal.”

Luke blinked, the only indication of surprise he’d give you. You could see the internal battle within him, forcing him to choose one or the other - to scold or cry, to hold or push away.

“You didn’t have a pulse.” Luke said at last. His eyes were full of tears and when he looked at you, you saw fear, true fear in Luke’s eyes. Luke, who never hesitated to break up a brawl between campers, who wasn’t afraid to speak of his father with spite and venom in his voice. Luke, the greatest man you’ve ever known, regardless of his demigod status or parentage, was afraid. ��When we got you back on land, you didn’t have a pulse.”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were so many things to say, comforting words mixed with a thousand apologies, but you couldn’t find the words. Today was an accident, but you were here, you were okay.

“I started CPR, but you never…” he cleared his throat and blinked at the tears despite the fact that they’ve fallen down his cheeks already. You lifted a hand to his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing away the tears and tracing down the scar that bore down his face. He was always so brave, but a small part of you wondered if you truly scared Luke for the first time in your relationship. “It wasn’t until Will got to you and started doing compressions, you finally started to regain consciousness.”

“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, letting the words settle within you. Luke looked up at you, lips trembling and tears falling. His confident cool-guy persona was gone, the mask finally broken and revealing Luke’s vulnerable side, the one he kept so secretly hidden from everyone in his life. “I don’t...I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Luke’s shoulders slumped, as if his confession had been weighing on him the entire time. You patted your hand at the now empty space on the other side of your cot, smoothing out the blanket’s wrinkles. Luke looked up at you, as if asking for permission, and you nodded.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you said softly, scooting towards the edge of your cot and looking up at Luke expectantly. Luke just stood by the side, watching you with caution, as if he were afraid you were going to fall unconscious once again. You tried to ignore the pang of hurt that echoed in your chest at his stillness. “You’re stuck with me, Castellan. Forever and ever.”

Gently, Luke settled into the space next to you, shifting his body ever so slightly to avoid the creaking of the cot beneath you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you could rest your head on his chest. You nestled into his embrace, the solid warmth of his chest offering solace in the empty room around you.

His heart beat in a soft and steady rhythm, the faint ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat bringing a soothing comfort only Luke could ever bring. It was your favorite sound - the promise of his eternal devotion, the reminder that he’s just as okay as you are.

“No more lake days.” Luke murmured more to himself, his voice a soft whisper against your neck. His breath felt warm against your skin, and you shifted slightly in Luke’s hold to look at him better.

Dark, curly hair swept along his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. You brushed his hair away from his face, fingers gently playing with his curls. But it was his eyes that truly captivated you - pools of soft brown that gazed at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame.

In their depths, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling - love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface. It was as if his eyes held the secrets to his soul, bared for you and you alone to see.

As Luke looked at you now, his gaze soft and full of affection, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. In the soft brown of Luke’s eyes was the reflection of your own love, mirrored back to you in all its raw and unbridled beauty.

You hummed in response, stretching your arms out to wrap them around his broad shoulders. His arms flexed as he held you tightly, as if he were afraid to ever let go, and you didn’t mind. “No more lake days.”

You laid entwined in each other’s arms, the weight of today’s actions leaving your mind. Tomorrow, you’d ask Percy for swim lessons and maybe offer some food to Poseidon as an apology. You’d definitely thank Will Solace later, maybe with a handmade gift that could hold his medical instruments.

But for now, you were content laying with Luke, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you to a dreamless slumber.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #charlie bushnell #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #the lightning thief #au where luke isn't evil because i wish things were better for him #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke pjo

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 1 month

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Dark Moon | Chapter Thirteen

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 2,7k

Warnings | +18, angst, blood, risk of death, Jimin is absolutely beside himself, lots of tears and guilt, kissing and promises, mention of rape, mentions of kidnapping and past abuse, mention of murder, feeling of shame, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, triggering content

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys ❤️ This is one of the chapters I loved writing about Dark Moon, I hope you will like it too! Always let me know what you think, I love your comments ❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse, @jiminismine4ever, @btssimpjaneth, @antisocial-mochi267, @reallygenerouskoala, @velvet-stardust2002

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Everything around him was smeared with blood and dirt, gunpowder shrouded that mansion in the open country that was teeming with Choi's men, but Jimin crushed their heads with ease, he would have eliminated them all, from first to last.

He struck the side of yet another idiot who thought he could confront him and ran toward the dungeon; Hoseok had told him that was most likely where they kept Y/N, because in checking the main rooms he had found no trace of the girl.

At his side Taehyung pinned a man by the arm and with a kick to the throat threw him lifelessly to the ground.

Even with confusion like the clash that was raging it was easy to find the room, although there were many only from one came the inhuman screams of a woman.

With icy chills on his neck he knocked down the door following a violent and desperate shove, freezing in front of that macabre sight.

Y/N was completely tied to a table with her legs shamefully spread wide open, her naked body was littered with bruises and cuts, and she was shaken by violent sobs, not to mention the blood, there was blood everywhere and the sight made Jimin lose all glimmer of reason. What the hell had they done to her?

He sprinted toward her, whose increasingly dull face was stained with terrible purplish marks and red splashes, "Y/N?!" was that his voice?

The voice so shrill and distraught, he himself did not recognize it as his own, Taehyung wordlessly observed the scene before him, he was breathless, Jimin cradled the girl's head in his arms, shaking her hair away from her face.

"Taehyung, help me!" he shouted in his direction, causing his friend to recoil, who retrieved his gun and fired accurately at each handcuff that held the young girl still bound, the skin around her wrists and ankles was now gone, the handcuffs had as if given her burns as a result of the excessive rubbing.

Jimin slowly took her in his arms, trying to figure out where the spillage of blood was coming from, and clutched the girl spasmodically to him, his face a pure picture of shock, he left her just long enough to take off his shirt and press it firmly against the girl's chest, there was only one hole, the bullet had passed through her chest and most likely got stuck inside her, he instead used his jacket to cover his nakedness, Y/N looked at him with wide, vacant eyes, as if she was no longer there but somehow still recognized Jimin's figure.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said between trembling lips, "I made you wait too long," he found himself crying, crying like a child at the miserable sight of that girl who had fought him so hard, lying in a sea of blood. She didn't even look like her anymore.

He had not protected her, he lacked air, he had not protected her.

"Jimin..." she gasped instead, reaching out a hand to the face of the man who had made her suffer so much, "Are you... fine," she sighed through the unbearable pangs of that torment. He was alive, he was well, and he was there, there with her.

Seeing him in that place, to save her, made her inexplicably emotional, even though that made no sense.

Jimin tenderly grasped her hand, kissing it and shaking his head, "Don't talk, don't waste your breath," he raised his face toward Taehyung who was looking at them with a bewildered and guilt-filled expression, "Go get help, Tae, please!"

The friend revived and nodded hastily and rushed out of the room, leaving them alone.

"You're here," sobbed the girl softly, sinking her head into the young man's bare chest, Jimin kissed her forehead trying to comfort her somehow, just imagining what had been done to her destroyed him.

"Of course I'm here, did you think I wouldn't come for you?" he asked in despair in the face of her physical and mental torment, he pressed harder on her now-primed shirt with vermilion liquid, hoping Taehyung would hurry up, "You're mine, Y/N, you mustn't forget that."

"But you hate me," was the only response he received, at which Jimin growled.

"I already told you I don't hate you!" he exclaimed bringing his lips closer to hers, "Would I hold you close to me like this if I hated you?"

Y/N slowly closed her eyes, her conscience screaming at her to stay awake, to listen to Jimin as her increasingly tired body demanded rest.

"Y/N!" he cried anxiously, pressing their lips together for a few seconds, it was a gentle touch as quick as a flap of wings, but it was enough to make her open her eyes again, "Stay with me, baby" he said in a sob.

"I've missed you" she whispered with little breath, it cost her effort in every sense to admit it aloud, but it was so, she must have been crazy for a long time now, but in Jimin's arms, she told herself, she could die with peace of mind.

"I've missed you," he repeated with a strange emotion in his eyes, he looked at her with such a gentleness that she had never noticed in her regard, it contrasted so much with those piercings that adorned his angular and massive body and gave him a dangerous air, "I won't let you go again, Y/N," he said quickly, the girl nodded slowly with a small smile, shortly afterwards her vision darkened.

Their story was strange, inconsistent. A lot had practically changed in just a year, who knew her tormentor would hold her like that? Who knew she would let him, surrendering to his grasp?

A bud had managed to bloom into a beautiful rose, nurtured by the sweet blood and bitter despair that cradled the existence of both of them.

Jimin counted every second that he spent in that house.

Y/N was almost always in bed, even two weeks after the shooting, at first he thought it had something to do with what Minho had done to her, but it wasn't just that, he knew it well.

He had promised not to let her go again, but instead he was a shadow of himself and did not dare to get too close to her. He was ashamed, not because of the desperate and frightened words he had whispered to her in that place, but because he had not been able to protect her, she had almost died and he could not find peace, he was always thinking "What if...?".

He hadn't gone to work anymore, he knew Seokjin would give him a hard time, but he couldn't do it. Every night with his heart in his throat he feared she might disappear again, that house didn't make him feel safe, not anymore.

He shrugged his shoulders closing his eyes bitterly, he had been wrong again.

Ever since he had met Y/N it seemed that the only certain thing he knew how to do was to be wrong again and again, never learning from his mistakes.

Then his ears picked up something, it was Y/N's faint voice calling him, and he jumped up from the sofa, running into her room.

"Did you call me?"

The girl was half stretched out on the bed, wearing a nightgown over the chest bandage she still had to keep for safety, she was so small and delicate that it seemed to Jimin that he was facing a tender fairy.

"I'd like to take a bath," she said shyly, avoiding his gaze.

"I don't think that's a good idea, the wound might leak more blood."

"Please... I feel dirty," she begged him with doe eyes, the man found himself sighing.

"Wait for me here."

The attitudes of both of them had changed, it was different from just tolerating each other, there was a gentleness never seen before in the way they both spoke to each other, it was pleasant and not only for Y/N, even Jimin wondered why he hadn't done it before.

He prepared her bath and then returned to her, took her effortlessly in his arms, and the young woman breathlessly admired the sensual features of his relaxed and masculine face, but adorned with wonderfully swollen lips, to be kissed countless times.

He helped her undress without taking his eyes off her body, but not out of lust.

He wanted to thoroughly scrutinize those marks that invaded her body disrespectfully over and over again, he fed on them to fuel the svisceral hatred he felt for Minho, they were still looking for him but soon they would unearth him, Jimin was sure of it.

When he accompanied her to the water the girl sighed contentedly, she made to loosen the bandages, but there too Jimin stepped in, gently removing everything and revealing the hole just above her right breast, he couldn't help himself, he reached out slightly to kiss gently that still young scar, lifted his eyes to her and found her staring at him with sympathetic blush on her cheeks.

Their new intimacy was strange; the abduction had changed something in their relationship.

He went back to soaping her body, occasionally leaving more kisses on her soft skin, kissed a spot just below her ear and slowly brushed his hand over her belly, the desire to make her feel good was there, pressing into his chest where his heart was pounding, but Y/N shivered and closed her legs instantly.

"I... sorry," she said squeezing her eyes shut to chase away the tears, but Jimin shook his head.

"Take it easy, I don't want to do anything," he tried to reassure her, going back to cleaning less intimate areas to let her know he meant what he said, that he didn't want to force her into anything, but Y/N swallowed a knot in her throat.

"No, you wanted me here to give you pleasure, I'm here for you, but I can't for the moment, not after that..." she froze trembling, remembering all too well Minho's painful and brutal thrusts, as well as Minhyun's thrashing as his boss panted on her like a pig, she covered her face in shame.

Jimin had also hurt her, but there was something different between him and Minho, she was more familiar with Jimin, she ventured to admit that ... somehow he had always attracted her?

She could not reflect objectively, but she was sure that for her Minho had simply been a horrifying and terrifying nightmare experienced with open eyes. Remembering the sadism with which he invited Minhyun to strike her and hurt her as he forced himself inside her would haunt her forever.

"There are so many reasons behind my decision to bring you here, Y/N, that was just one of many, but now it's different, you don't have to if you don't want to" the boy's sincere voice brought her back to the present, Jimin was really trying to make her understand, "And you don't know how much I regret what I did that last night, I was a monster" he said taking it out on himself and once again the girl found herself split in two.

"I... I thought you were, but after Choi Minho and his henchman...after they..." god, she couldn't even complete the sentence, "I understood who the demon was between you and him, believe me Jimin" she preferred to end the speech like that, clutching herself with embarrassment. She wasn't saying that Jimin hadn't done anything to her, but the thought that he was finally by her side calmed her down and she felt a pleasant warmth surface inside her, she was crazy and she was also accepting it.

The boy understood her shame and with a weary sigh began to lift up the light T-shirt he was wearing, the woman looked at him strangely and interestedly, his defined and luscious abs bewitched her, but Jimin pointed to the numerous piercings and dark ink lines on his arms.

"You don't have to feel ashamed of what happened to you, you were a victim, just like me."

Y/N widened her eyes in shock, what did he mean?

With indifference in his eyes, Jimin began to explain.

"In the past I met a young girl, it was night and she was coming back from an evening spent having fun with her friends, a drunk man had attacked her and I stepped in to save her.... I didn't know that my action would also doom me, I just wanted to do a good deed.... but she was part of the wealthy Choi family and was convinced that she could have it all, and by everything she meant me too, she was obsessed and I at the time was a kid committing a few petty thefts here and there, nothing too serious, but it was enough to be labeled as society's trash, no one would notice I was missing, and it was all too easy for her to convince her rich and powerful father to kidnap me and make me her prisoner," the boy's jaw tensed at those memories, "I was under that woman's power for four years, like a toy."

"Jimin, you don't have to do that," she pleaded in a broken voice.

"I don't want there to be any secrets between the two of us, Y/N," he smiled slightly, wiping away a tear from her eyes, "She used to keep me tied by one ankle at the foot of her bed, said I was her prince in a cage, at other times she would call me a dirty dog and I would pray that she would finally let me go free, but she would always burst out laughing... she didn't smoke, but she would always light a cigarette and put it out on me when she wanted to punish me or just vent about something, I was her outlet, I was instead taken to the dungeon when I behaved "badly," she would order her father's men to beat me and sometimes I wouldn't eat for days."

The girl gently brushed all those piercings, each of them hiding that kind of wound, Jimin closed his eyes under her gentle touch.

"Her cravings eventually matured and she forced me to have intercourses with her, but I never came, she blocked every sensation, she made me disgusted," he hissed, "I hated all Choi and all women looked like her to me."

He inhaled softly, wiping his sweaty forehead, something in those memories - his demons - made him react that way.

"Seokjin had some things to settle with Choi Senior and when he saw me, he asked for me as payment to settle what Choi still owed him, it was a lie, he saved me and then exterminated everyone in that house, seeing what he had managed to do only because he had wanted it that way, he convinced me to join his family, I began to have real sex with all the prostitutes who roamed the Dark Moon, the only difference being that I was the one with the upper hand now, I used them to unload my lust and I treated them badly because they reminded me of her all too well, that bitch, I could see it in their eyes the desire to use me to live a more comfortable life," he chuckled without amusement, "Then you came along and turned my world upside down, you unnerved me with your purity, you rejected me and I wanted you instead, it was frustrating, with you I wanted to do everything I had always recommended not to do with anyone and I hated myself."

"What do you mean?" she now stared at him with fascination, in front of her was a man who could finally understand her.

"Love you. I wanted, no… I want to love you."

"Jimin, I-"

"Don't answer me now," he shushed her by pressing his soft, irresistible lips to the girl's sweet ones, "Whether you love me back or not, just wait a little longer, even if it takes fifty years if necessary, just...don't ask me to give you freedom, I can't do that."

That was the love Park Jimin could and wanted to give her; passionate, tender ... possessive, selfish.

As she watched the boy leave the bathroom she found herself longing for that sick love, but one she absolutely needed to feel safe.

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

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Maroon (part one)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

An imagine loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part two - part three - part four

themes: fluff, Aemond and the reader being friends first, shy reader, red wine antics, language + Aemond does not have his disability/lost eye in this one (but I plan to write it in for a potential part two)

word count: 3.8k

The reader has always admired Aemond Targaryen from afar, the brother of her best friend Helaena. Little does she know, she has caught his eye as well. Something is revealed one night, encouraged by a sudden splash of maroon.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Aemond says, "and more so after Helaena went to bed. Is something wrong, y/n?"

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass, unsure of what to say. Perhaps you have withdrawn back into your shell when your best friend Helaena decided she was going to bed early. She is quite the lightweight, after all. A few sips of wine and she was out.

You didn't mind. But she left you here with Aemond, sprawled out on the expensive carpet in their living room. He gracefully leans against the couch, remaining poised. One thing you admire about him is the way he carries himself, almost with a sense of regal austerity that makes him intimidating to most people. Add that to the fact that Aemond is one of the heirs to the Targaryen business empire, the richest family in the city.

But for some reason, he is gentle with you. Treating you differently than he does anyone else. Almost with reverence. Helaena once joked that he shouldn't go easy on you too much, with you being tougher than you look. Aemond just laughed it off, but you stood there awkwardly, unable to hide the way your face grew flushed all over.

Your crush on Aemond Targaryen has only gotten worse since then.

"I'm not silent," you find yourself blurting out in a defensive tone, "I'm... just... nursing my wine, that's all."

Get your shit together, y/n.

A small smile appears on Aemond's lips, as he notices your increasingly flustered state, "Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you look down at your glass, swirling it around. What should I say next? What should I say next?

Aemond interrupts your nervous train of thought, continuing his sentiment slowly, "Because, you know, I would hate to think if there's anything wrong, or if you feel uncomfortable in any way. We are friends, y/n. I want you to feel that you can be free around me, as you are around Helaena."

He just knows the right words to say, doesn't he?

"I know," you respond, in a calmer tone that even surprises you, "and I appreciate that, Aemond. I apologize if I come off as aloof sometimes - "

"Don't apologize," he laughs dryly, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like to come off as aloof, it's me."

"True enough," you smile, taking a sip of your wine. You don't notice Aemond’s eyes follow your movement, fixating at last on the way your lips curve against the glass.

"Tell you what," he says, "how about we play a game? Break the ice even more and all that."

"A game?"

"Yeah, like, I haven't a clue... truth or dare?"

You gulp, your mind racing with the possibilities of what that game usually entails when played out, "I don't think that works with just two people, Aemond."

"Why not?" he slides a bit closer to you on the carpet, and your heart races ever faster.

"It just... it just doesn't!" you shrug, breathing out in a slight huff. He's so close. So close.

"I say it can work, y/n."

"Really, now?" you raise your eyebrows, "I'm not built for doing dares."

"We'll keep it simple. Nothing too ridiculous. And if we don't want to tell the truth, or do a dare, we just have to take three sips of wine."

"Hmm..."

"Or even soda, or water. If you prefer. I don't want to feel like I'm making you drink. Helaena would murder me if you get too drunk whilst in my company." Ah, Aemond. Always so considerate.

"I'm okay," you smile, "I'll stick with wine."

"So you accept my offer?"

You take a deep breath, in an attempt to steel your nerves. Before you can chicken out, and change your mind, you say, "Fine. Let's play."

"Wonderful," he smirks, "So, darling... truth or dare?"

"Truth," you croak, the way he addressed you as darling still echoing in your ears. There's no way you'll jump right into a dare.

"Okay. What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh," you rack your brain for an appropriate answer. One that can be said out loud in front of Aemond anyway.

"I, uhm, I thought you were polite."

"Polite?" he laughs freely, "glad to know I make that much of a lasting impression."

"I mean, not just that," you lean forward, "you were well put together, I guess. Quiet, but not shy. I got the sense that you know exactly who you are. You've got a strong sense of self, and as a result, you know how to take care of yourself, and your family. It's admirable, really." You also thought of running your fingers through his astonishingly silver hair, craving to know what it felt like, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"Hmm," he smiles softly, looking down, almost wistfully, "there was a time when I was quite different, you know. I was so insecure, and so angry. It's a miracle that I've grown into who I am now, but I am proud of myself for it."

Aemond is opening up to me? You get a sense of innocence with the way he spoke, and a sincerity, with all pretenses put away. Here, he is just Aemond, not this great heir or this renowned scholar. “That truly is something to be proud of,” you profess, “I, for one, am proud of the person that you are.”

His eyes light up as he looks at you, “That means a lot coming from you, y/n.”

“Does it?” you ask. Why would it? Since the first time you met, over a year ago, you have not had many lengthy interactions. The handful of times you were brought together, with only the two of you, were purely coincidental. Like this very moment. You did not expect to be drinking wine with him on the carpet tonight. You had actually considered heading home after Helaena went to bed, but Aemond took your hand, pulling you back down to sit with him, imploring you to please stay. Just a while longer.

And you are glad that you had.

“It does,” is the only thing that Aemond says in response, and as much as you want to press on, you decide to let it go.

“Okay, Aemond. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he takes a sip of wine. You think of how pointless the whole condition of only having to take a drink when refusing the challenge has become. You two continue to drink, either way.

“I dare you to… uhm, tell me something in High Valyrian.” You’ve always been fascinated by the Targaryens’ native language, them being originally from the faraway country of Valyria. It is truly a place on top of your bucket list, and you secretly wish that Aemond would take you there one day.

“That’s easy,” he smiles, then pauses, looking at you directly in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, as if mulling over what to say. Then you hear it.

“Iksā gevie.”

You swallow nervously. The way his voice deepened went straight to your head, making you feel slightly faint. You whisper, “That sounds… lovely. What does it mean?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder, your confidence gaining a significant boost from the wine, “Come on. Just tell me. What did you say again? Ikse gevya... gevy?”

He beams, amused by your pronunciation, “Iksā gevie,” he repeats, “Eek-sah gev-yeh.”

“Right, right,” you nod, taking another sip of wine, “Just you wait until I type that in Google Translate. It better not have been anything rude.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he promises. “Truth or dare?”

“Eh… dare,” you say, but you immediately change your mind. “No, wait, truth! I choose truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure, darling?” Aemond croons, tilting his head.

“Truth.”

“Alright, then. Are you seeing… uh…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “are you seeing any… any chance of you working for our company in the future?”

Are you seeing anyone? He had wanted to ask instead. Aemond internally kicks himself for pulling back.

You notice how weirdly he phrased that question. You choose your answer carefully, “Well, it’s definitely something I would consider. You know how much I admire your family. But, I don’t want anything handed to me on a plate. If I were to get a job there, I want it to be on my own merit. I don’t want you or Helaena or anyone to vouch for me, or put in a good word for me, just because I’m your friend.”

“I understand, darling.” He smiles at the determined way with which you spoke. His stubborn girl. “But if you ever need any help, I’m here.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand gently, as a sign of your appreciation, “Thank you, Aemond. You’ve always been kind to me.”

He looks down at your hand around his, and he clutches yours in return. When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is so warm, so gentle. You feel as if you are being held. Like you’re safe.

You finally let go of his hand, “So, truth or dare?”

And so, the game continues for another half hour, the two of you growing increasingly inebriated by the minute. The wine glasses have been put to the side, the two of you opting to take turns with drinking out of the bottle instead. You answer all sorts of questions from Aemond, such as “Which of the Targaryen siblings do you think should run the company?”, “Who’s your preferred drinking partner, Aegon or Daeron?”, and “Do you like my hair better short or long?”

You ask him your fair share, but one thing that sticks to your mind is what he answers to “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

“Yes. I think so.” He says, and you can tell that he is being honest. Your heart sinks at that. Of course, there would be someone who already caught Aemond’s eye. He is one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, after all. Women everywhere are vying for his attention. It only makes sense that he would eventually meet someone he truly liked.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and Aemond astutely picks up on what you may have assumed.

“Darling, I - ”

You cut him off bluntly, not remembering that it’s his turn to ask, “Truth or dare, Aemond?”

“Hmm,” he stands, your question hanging in the air, with his hand outstretched for you to take, “come with me. I want to show you something.”

Taking the wine bottle, you stand and interlace your fingers with his. “Where are we going?”

He guides you out of the expansive living room, turning right at the end of a long hallway. He pries open a glass pivot door, revealing the private stairwell of their penthouse. Without a word shared, you climb up the flight of stairs together. One floor, two floors, three. Until you reach what can only be the roof of the high-rise building they live in.

The cool, midnight air is a refreshing assault to your senses. Immediately, you feel more awake, less drowsy from the wine. The rooftop is spacious and has been outfitted with a seating area, plenty of potted plants, dainty lighting fixtures that hang from the posts, as well as an exposed room littered with bust sculptures. The balcony stretches all around its perimeter, made out of ornately carved bronze.

“Wow,” you say, after taking it all in. “I’ve never been up here before.” You turn to look at him, and he seems pleased at your reaction. You add, “And you live here? Imagine. My entire apartment must only be a quarter of this rooftop, if not less.”

“Hmm,” he smiles, looking around, “I like to come up here to think. This rooftop is rarely ever in use, since my family all prefer to huddle downstairs. And well, Aegon’s afraid of heights.” He sneers at the end.

“Is he now?” you hand him the bottle of wine, “Remind me to bring that up the next time we see him.”

“Last time he was up here, he threw up over the balcony.”

“Oh, god,” Aemond laughs at the way your face scrunches up in disgust. “That’s quite a long drop. I hope he didn’t hit anyone on the sidewalk with it.”

“What a shame, really. That would have been the most interesting lawsuit.” Aemond remarks, before motioning with his head for you to follow him.

He reaches a plush seat facing the balcony, and the two of you sit in relative silence for a while. The whole city seems to be sprawled out below you, and the stars above also gleam much closer, like they are just within reach. Your wandering eyes take everything in with awe, but Aemond only watches you.

Instead of the stars, he thinks of how you are within reach. If only he would just let you know how he feels.

When you turn to finally look at him, you are surprised to see that he has been watching you. “Aemond,” you say, “why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you so nice to me? From what I’ve seen, you are indifferent to most people. It can’t just be because I am Helaena’s friend, is it? You don’t have to treat me like I’m some fragile doll, you know. I won’t break, I swear.” Your voice takes on a sarcastic tone, and the corner of his lips lift in a smile.

He looks away, facing the tops of the buildings in the sprawling city that his family empire practically owns. Prince of the city, some people call him.

“I know that, darling.” He tilts his head partially towards you. “I like that you’re… different. I mean, trust me when I say, the crowd that the lot of us are exposed to tends to be entitled, shallow sycophants.”

“Bit harsh, Aemond.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles sardonically, “but anyway. I’m used to people only being interested in me because of my last name, or the family legacy. No one’s ever bothered to see me for who I truly am, save for only a handful of people. Because of this, I get quite protective of Helaena, since she can be overly trusting. She only chooses to see the good in others.”

“That’s what I love the most about her,” you say sincerely.

“Hmm, yes. But it also makes her more vulnerable. She’s had friends before, who were only clearly hanging around her so they might leech off of her higher status.”

“Aemond, I’m sorry to hear - ”

“But not you. I am aware that Helaena tried to help you before. Tried to get you a better apartment, or get you a high-ranking job with us. It would be easy, just like that. But you refuse, time and time again. You don’t mock us either, simply for being who we are, and having this much privilege. You see us as people, and unfortunately that’s a rare thing. I can tell that you truly care for Helaena, otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang around her at all,” Aemond smiles, nudging your shoulder, then drapes his arm on the back of the seat behind you.

“Overprotective brother much?” you taunt lightly.

“It’s an affliction I choose to bear,” you notice how he has leaned closer, his breath warm on your face.

You swallow nervously, “So, I guess you answered my question.”

“Partially,” he shakes his head slightly, “darling, I’ve got a long list of reasons why I like you, and that’s only scratching the surface.”

“Oh.” If you thought you felt faint before, then you were just about ready to pass out now. Panicking, you raise the wine bottle to your lips, taking a long drag. But when you pull the bottle away, you must have done it in a nervous rush, causing it to tilt in a way that wine spills out and splashes on your shoulder.

“Steady, y/n.” Aemond takes the bottle from you, setting it down on the stone floor.

“Fuck.” You look down and see the wine stain on your shirt, seeping wider, a shade of scarlet so deep it could be mistaken for maroon.

Suddenly, Aemond laughs. You want to act incredulous, or annoyed, but the sound of his laughter is so hearty and genuine. And so rare, that you find yourself smiling at the sight of his dimples deepening, and the faint lines around his eyes bursting free.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “It’s just, at the rate you’re going with the wine, you could be giving Aegon a run for his money.”

“Ha-ha,” you dab at your shirt with your hand, but it doesn’t do much good.

“Come, I can lend you something to wear.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the rooftop.

“It’s alright, Aemond. I can just borrow one from Helaena.”

“She’s already asleep,” the two of you descend down the stairwell, stopping at the first floor below.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Where is he taking me? Must be the laundry room, or a guest room?

“I insist,” he declares, dropping your qualms altogether.

You come to a halt in front of a wooden door, painted a brushed forest green. Before you could ask anything, he holds the door open for you, “This is my room.”

You look at him expectantly, unsure of whether you should enter. He only smiles, “After you, darling.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, and the maroon patch still vivid by your shoulder, you step inside Aemond’s bedroom. It’s massive, predictably, just like every other room in this penthouse. The walls are a comforting, deep shade of forest green, just like the door. There are also accented panels of dark gray, to avoid a monotony of colour. The furniture is simple, clean, modern. Yet each one possesses intricate detailing. His bookshelf covers the entire eastern wall. His bed… well. You compose yourself, trying not to let your mind wander.

You feel him standing behind you, waiting.

“Nice room,” you say.

“Hmm,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “thank you. I don’t really bring anyone in here.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose - ”

“Stop. I asked you to come in here, y/n.” He walks over to a sliding door to the left, revealing a large walk-in wardrobe. Of course he would have one of those.

He disappears inside for a moment, before returning to you, a dark green sweater in his hand. The same shade as his bedroom walls. Hmm. Aemond seems to have an affinity for green.

“Here, put this on.” He hands the sweater to you. “This should be comfortable enough to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you take it, feeling the material in your hands.

“No problem,” he continues to look at you, and you have to ask, pointing to the walk-in wardrobe, “Could I maybe change in there?”

“Right, sorry, I should have offered,” Aemond smiles, looking down.

“One second.”

When you gently slide the door shut, you lean back against it, taking the deep calming breath you’ve been holding in. Being around Aemond makes you feel as if your very skin is on fire. The attraction you feel for him becomes so palpable, making you somewhat a nervous wreck. There’s no need. Like he said, he is your friend, y/n.

You sit on the bench in the middle of the room, taking your shirt off. Hurriedly, you put on his green sweater, and he’s right. It is so damn comfortable. And it smells exactly like him.

“Everything alright in there?” you hear him from behind the sliding door.

“Y-yeah,” you say. Taking your stained shirt in one hand, you stand, and meet him outside.

He studies you, admiring the way his sweater hangs off your torso. “Hmm,” he remarks, as he always does, “you look better in it than I do, y/n.”

“Well, thank you,” you say sincerely, before adding, “but I have to disagree.”

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly says, the words immediately taking root in your heart, “You are beautiful.”

“What?” you croak, your voice coming out in an astonished whisper.

“That is what I said earlier,” he continues, “That is what iksā gevie means.”

“Oh.”

Aemond crosses the few steps needed to erase the distance between the two of you, plucks the shirt from your hand, and deftly tosses it to a nearby chair. Then, he takes your hands in his. He gazes into your eyes, and his expression is a mixture of longing and reluctance. He then traces your cheekbone with his fingers, delicately, as if you will crumble under his touch. And you just might.

“Aemond - ”

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.”

You feel the urge to ask him what those words mean, instead you choose to simply let it be, and just bask in the sincerity in his tone. In the way he does not drop your gaze when he spoke them. In the way his hands slowly find themselves on your waist, pulling you close.

He leans in, slowly. And the whole world ceases to exist around you. The ringing in your ears becomes silenced, and there is only Aemond. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like, his lips pressed against yours. His devotion reserved only for you. It seemed like a dream, but now, it is well within reach.

But the dream is shattered when a heavy knock echoes throughout the room. Three, brief, raps on the forest green surface. That was all it took to break the spell.

Aemond’s brows furrow in frustration, his hands still on your waist. There is an anger in his voice when he calls loudly over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It’s me, sir.” You recognize the intruder to be Criston Cole, the head of their family’s security team.

“Wait here, darling,” Aemond says, running his finger over your lips, over what he could have taken if you had not been interrupted.

Aemond opens the door, and you briefly meet Criston’s eyes from across the room.

Your presence in Aemond’s room seems to catch him off guard, but he straightens quickly, “Aemond, there is someone here for you.”

“At this fucking hour?”

Looking at you once more, Criston lowers his voice when he replies, but you hear it anyway. “It’s Alys Rivers. She’s waiting for you downstairs as usual.”

As usual. Alys Rivers. The famous model and socialite. You knew of her from the magazines, the internet. There have been tabloid articles of her and Aemond, but you knew better than to pay any attention to them, not believing that there could be any truth to such lowly forms of media. Or at least, that was what you assumed. But if she’s here, in this ungodly hour, then…

“I think I should get to bed,” you walk towards the doorway, “to Helaena’s room, that is.”

“No,” Aemond stops you in your tracks, grabbing your arm, “wait. We aren’t finished yet. I just - ”

“Your guest is waiting, Aemond.” You cut him off, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, while he tries to get you to look at him, but to no avail. You’re worried that if you do, you might not be able to leave.

Criston shuffles out of the way to let you through, greeting you with a cordial, “Good night, y/n.” You notice how there might even be a hint of regret in his eyes.

Each step feels heavy as you make your way down the hallway to Helaena’s room. Compared to how you felt, mere moments ago, as though you were floating on air.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, your thoughts racing on what might be happening down the hall. Who is Alys Rivers to you, Aemond? Why did she have to ruin what would have been a perfect night? Are you just stringing me along?

When you finally succumb to slumber, you fall into a dream.

Of who else but Aemond? Of who else but the one whom your heart desires?

Ok ok ok. This will be the last thing posted before part 5 of Heart on Fire. I think. 🤞

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.” - "I'm going to kiss you now." - Aemond 🖤

Maroon just had to be multi-chaptered. It might be my favourite track from midnights.

Apologies to those who have sent requests. I do see them, but I'm just a bit bogged with uni/life at the moment. Hopefully will write a lot more soon!

Also, thank you thank you for all the kind remarks/messages. You guys are amazing. Any suggestions for part 2? Let me know in the comments 🖤🖤🖤

Aemond/HotD taglist: @aemcndtargaryen @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @blackravena @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mrswhitethornbelikov @mikariell95 @thermiting @witchofthenorthstar @m00n5t0n3 @booknerd2004 @throughgoeshamilton @xcallmetaniax @wrendermeuseless @m-indkiller @graykageyama @nsainmoonchild @milemarianne @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @caspianobsessed @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @random-human02 @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @angel6776 @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss @wondergal2001 @huntycola

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #midnights

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machetegirl109 · 10 months

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Synopsis: During a hot day at the beach with your friends, the sexual tension between you and Ellie leads the both of you to the passenger seat of her truck; again. *inspiration: tudo aconteceu by mc du black*

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, F/F, modern!AU, suggestive and offensive language, weed&alcohol, smut, dry humping, very good vibes, loser!ellie x reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to tudo aconteceu by mc du black that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 2.2k+

Oneshot: It All Happened

❝︎i fell in love

now i miss you endlessly❞︎

It was a hot day. The sun shined bright and no dark clouds were visible in the sky; it was the perfect day to go to the beach, and oh, Ellie was dying to. As soon as Dina texted her, demanding that she’d meet her, Jesse and you at the beach, excitement formed at the pit of her stomach as she hurriedly changed from her sleepwear to a black triangle two-piece set, anticipating seeing you again. She wondered what swimsuit you would wear this time, if it was the colored one that flattered the tone of your skin, or that Brazilian cut bikini that perfectly displayed your pretty ass.

Ellie put on a pair of light washed jean shorts, not bothering to put on a shirt and stepping into her simple havaianas. Grabbing a tote back and packing it with some necessities like a towel, water bottles and sunscreen, as well as a tin of Altoids that was filled with some pre-rolls. She gets into her truck and makes her way to the beach, quietly singing along to the song that plays on the radio. The memory of you on top of her, wearing nothing but a wet bikini bottom and a blunt between your fingers replayed inside her head – What I’d give to see her all high and fuck out on my lap again she thought and her blood felt like electricity as it flowed through her veins all the way down to her core.

After driving for about an hour, she finally arrives and parks her car in a more secluded area before the entry of the beach — The spot was hidden behind some palm trees that blocked surrounding vision, making it the perfect place to spend some alone time with you later. Ellie takes her things and heads to the beach, her eyes wander around until she spots Jesse sitting on his sunchair; head laid back, eyes closed towards the sunny sky and body spread on in as he holds a cold Heineken can. Upon hearing someone approach him, Jesse turns his face to his side, looking at Ellie who’s setting her tote bag onto the burning sand and taking a seat on the chair next to his.

“Ellieee, ‘sup, my friend!” He reaches his hand towards hers, exchanging a dap greeting. Ellie smiles and he continues. “There’s some drinks on the cooler right there,” Jesse points to a small light-blue icebox a few steps from them. “And some snacks on the bag beside it,” She nods looking at the black backpack. “Feel free to take whatever you want; Dina and Y/N are taking a swim.” Ellie turns her gaze to the wide blue ocean, watching as you and Dina laugh splashing the water around.

“Thanks. You getting in, too?”

“Yeah, just wanted to drink a bit and catch a tan first.” Ellie stands and walks towards the cooler, opening and getting a beer. Going to sit again, she opens it and takes a sip, the cold liquid refreshing her throat as she lays her back onto the beach chair. “What about you, gonna take a dip with Y/N?” She chuckles and turns her face away from him.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,”

“Haa, I’m not so sure about that. You think we don’t know what y’all were up to in your car when we came to the beach last week?”

“We just… Talked. And- and we hotboxed.” She trips over her words, shy over the little escapade you two had.

“Whenever two people who have insane sexual tension are together, in a closed space, they do a lot more than just talking.” Jesse proclaims as if it was a matter of fact and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Whatever… You’re so annoying.”

“I know,” He says proudly as he places his drink on the sand and stands up. “I’m gonna go play mermaids’ with Dina now, wanna come?”

“Not now, go ahead.” Ellie watches as Jesse lets out an alright and he begins to walk towards the crystalline water, swimming towards you and Dina who smiles as he approaches. Soon the three of you engage in a conversation following up by Jesse making an exaggerated mermaid act, causing you and Dina to swim a little further from him.

“Can you two please stop being boring bitches and have fun?” He pleads, upset over the fact you nor his girlfriend wanted to act like kids in public.

“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna swim around and act stupid like you.”

“You’re just mad I have childlike wonder, Y/N.” He goes closer to Dina and wraps his arms around her. “Will you play with me, Dina? You can be Ariel and I’ll be Prince Eric.”

“We can reenact that scene where he drowns but instead of saving you I just swim away.” Dina suggests and he lets an annoyed huff out.

“Wow, I thought you loved me.”

“God, Jesse, when did you get so dramatic?” She hugs him back and he kisses her cheek. “I’ll play with you.”

“Y/N?” Jesse looks at you with puppy eyes and you hum. “Will you play with your dear friends?”

“No, but thanks for asking.” He kisses his teeth and throws the salty water in your direction. “Jesse!”

“You should go be boring with Ellie,” He says, pulling Dina closer to where the ocean got deeper. “She's by our stuff.” A smile appears on your face as Jesse lets you know she’s already here, you begin to swim back hurriedly, excited to see Ellie again. “They’re down bad for each other, huh?” Dina nods in agreement, the two of them watching you running towards the spot you all settled in when you arrived at the beach earlier this morning.

When Ellie sees you walking towards her, her green eyes sparkle with desire as she looks down at your body, almost exposed under the tiny bikini you’re wearing. You two exchange smiles with hidden intentions on it. When you finally stop in front of her chair, you lower yourself on her lap, pulling her into a hug; her body shivers as your cold wet body touches her hot one. Ellie takes in your scent, the mixture of sand and salty water into her nose as she presses her face onto the crook of your neck, making you only hug her even tighter.

“Hi Els,” You say softly as you pull back, looking at her face — Cheeks slightly red from the sun and her freckles more intense. “I wanted to see you so bad.” You confess shyly; not being able to take her off of your mind since the last encounter you two had.

“I wanted to see you, too.” Her hand comes up to your cheek, softly caressing it. “Did you not want to play mermaids with Jesse?” Ellie asks with humor in her voice and you chuckle.

“Yeah, I'd rather be around you,” Her smile widens and her hand falls to your naked thigh and your heartbeat falters. “Why didn’t you get in?” Ellie raises her other hand that holds her beer and gives it a little shake.

“I was just finishing up, and–” Ellie fingers trace up and down your soft skin, she looks down at your chest, covered by a small burgundy triangle top, and then backs up your eyes as she clears her throat. “To be honest, I was hoping you'd come here. I brought you something.” She leans forward on her beach chair with you still seated across both her legs, and places her can onto the sand, grabbing her tote bag. You observe her attentively as she removes a scratched metal tin and places it into your hands. Opening it, you see four perfectly wrapped blunts.

“Really? They're for me?” You give her a toothy smile, making her heart melt.

“Uhm. Just for you.” You close the tin and press a kiss onto Ellie's freckled cheek, who instantly holds your hips closer. You lean into her, moving your lips to her ear; giving a soft bite on her lobe. You can feel her body slightly shake under you – A naughty smile creeps up your face and you place one to the back of her neck, gripping it harshly as you pull her impossibly closer to you.

“You should take me to your car.” Your warm breath hits down her ear as you whisper and an almost inaudible moan escapes her lips. Ellie stands causing you to be back on your feet again and she quickly holds your empty hand, pulling you towards the beach entry with her. You try to keep up with her pace as you follow behind, and soon enough you two reach her old truck that hides behind the palm trees. Not being able to wait anymore, she presses you against the door and smacks a kiss onto your lips. Her soft lips carry a slight taste of the beer she was previously drinking.

You place your arms around her shoulders and Ellie clutches your hip with one hand as the other one moves down your thigh, grabbing it and bringing it up making you close your leg around her waist. She bites your bottom lip and pulls it forward with her teeth, her head going back as you reach her face to kiss her again. Before you're able to press them together again, she lets go of it and drops your leg back on the ground: giving your ass a slap as she pulls you away from the door.

Ellie opens the passenger seat door and enters; getting comfortable onto the seat as she pats both her hands over her thighs that are uncovered on her small low waist jean shorts.

“C’mere, pretty.” With no need to tell you twice, you get in, setting yourself on top of her with each of your legs divided on her sides; you throw the small metal tin on the driver’s seat. You press a small kiss on her lips before they make their way down her neck – One of her hands meets your ass again; she squeezes it roughly, earning a moan from you, and the other closer to the door reaches for the handle, shutting it close. “You look for fucking hot wearing that,” You move your lips back to hers and soon you two start a heavy and messy make out session.

Sinking your teeth into the plumpiness of her bottom lip, she opens her mouth allowing your tongue to move in and hers, too, explores the inside of your mouth. You grip her short locks tightly and she groans inside the kiss; both her hands holding onto each side of your asscheeks, rocking you back and forth above her crotch.

As the moans of you two start to get louder and louder each time your hips hit towards hers, you break the kiss; planning your hands on the sides of the headstand as Ellie tries to open her legs as much as she can in order to feel your clothed cunt rub against hers. She stares deep in your eyes, holding onto you as if you were about to run away, Ellie starts to move you against her even faster and rougher.

“Shit–” Her chest raises up and down fastly, her lungs losing air as she sees you untying your top and discarding it beside the joint-filled altoids. She feels herself getting even wetter at the vision of your perky nipples; lowering her mouth on your boobs, she alternates between the two as she sucks and licks, bites and kisses. Adrenaline and lust run through your veins as you feel her warm muscle on your sensitive nipples.

“Els– ahh,” Pornography moans leave your mouth, you two reaching closer and closer to that final snap inside the pit of your stomachs. “Don't stop, don't stop, pleasepleaseplease,” Upon hearing your cries, Ellie moans along with you as she deliciously rubs your cunt more violently against her own. Her eyes roll back as she feels your hand move from her naked stomach to her covered chest, sliding it under her top and flicking her nipple.

“Baby, baby– I'm gonna cum,” Ellie announces as her mouth lets go of your tits with a wet plop. You nod your head, letting her know you will, too. “Kiss me,” Tending to her wish, you put your lips on hers, kissing it one last time before you two reach your releases’. As Ellie feels the creamy liquid drip inside her bikini bottoms, her guidance on your hips falter, making you slow down, too, riding out your high. “Holy fuck.”

You let yourself fall into her as tiredness hits you. Ellie moves her hands to your back, giving you a bear hug. As the two of you take your time to catch your breath, she presses kind and loving kisses over your face, making you giggle with adoration.

“You want to smoke a little?” Ellie asks, a hint of desperation on her voice as she has finally met the opportunity to get you looking all pretty with your eyes red and horny on her lap, again. You nod your head, excitement making its way through your body.

“Yes, I do!”

ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou smut #loser!ellie #it all happened ellie williams #©machetegirl109

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licorice-tea · 4 months

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You’re An Angel When You Sleep

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3

Edited 2/28/24

Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.

People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.

And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.

How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.

It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.

He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.

But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”

He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.

“How foolish.”

Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.

All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.

Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”

And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.

His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.

“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”

This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.

“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”

Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.

“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.

And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”

You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.

“Then I swam over here-“

“Which is where?”

You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”

“While I was dying.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”

“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”

“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”

“Mhm.”

“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”

He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.

“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.

You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“

“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.

“Ok… What is it?”

Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.

The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #h/c #devil fruit #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #law x y/n

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morganitering · 5 months

Text

Survive the Night (Mahito x fem!reader)

Warnings: Non-con/Rape, Graphic Depictions of violence

Contains: Smut, PWP, PIV - penis in vagina sex, degradation, psychological/emotional manipulation, face-fucking, threats of violence, fuck or die, sexist language, reader is into it lowkey

Word count: 5,1k

Summary: You had readied yourself for a party with your best friend, only to find Shibuya in a disarray, and yourself caught up in a war that wasn’t yours. Somehow escaping the monsters, you end up running into the lap of another kind of predator - an intelligent one.

A/N: Hey hey, this is my first fic and first smut! And ofc, I started with the most degenerate bs I could do. I don't even simp Mahito, but my bestie is down bad and what type of friend I'd be if I didn't help them out. English isn't my first language and no beta. Be aware of the warnings, they are there for a reason. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3!

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It was utter madness. There were screams so chilling that your heart started to ache in an empathetic rhythm, but this was no time to be kind and understanding. It was time to survive and survive you wanted, but your legs refused to move.

You saw people running around like headless chickens, crossing the roads, bumping into each other, as creatures of various sizes and colors roamed the heart of Shibuya, hands and mouths gaping open, reaching to anyone they could. You stood still despite the sheer fear in you.

You looked at your friend, cold sweat forming on your brow as you assessed the situation. Her golden wig falling on the ground in the force of a purple hand grabbing her. She cried out to you. Her Sailor Moon wand replica fell to the asphalt with her other belongings. You had a good bit of distance between the two of you since you tried to run over the crossing road in a hurry towards KFC.

The purple hand squeezed remorselessly. You could see it in her face, the sound of little crackling of her rib cage turning to bits and pieces inside her body, puncturing every vital organ one by one.The hand kept on squeezing, probably not even using force. The creature dropped your friend’s body next to her items. She was disfigured and limp like a soggy rag doll. You had seen death once after losing your grandparents, but this was no peaceful death due to old age, this was a god forsaken massacre.

It was supposed to be a fun night out. You hadn’t dressed up in anything special, but you wanted to support your friend so you had gone to her place, a few hours prior ending up going outside, hoping for the warm buzz of alcohol in your veins and maybe, if you were lucky, a lover you could regret in the morning.

But in all honesty, this was a script from a horror movie. You had always joked with your friend how you both would be the first ones to die in one, but neither of you had been serious about it.

“Fucking move!” You heard a man yelling, snapping you out of your trance. The purple creature’s multiple eyes were all looking in different directions in search of another victim.

You did what the stranger told you to.

Your body pumped out adrenaline forcing your limbs to finally move with strength you did not recognize in yourself. You started running as fast as your legs could take you, neon lights of advertisements flashed on your face as blood of other party goers covered you as they were snapped open, ripped in half, guts and viscera leaking on the ground. Puddles of blood splashed on your calves when the soles of your boots hit the ground. You were just livestock running away from the butcher in a small room, knowing full well that there was no escape.

Metallic taste popped in your mouth as you evaded monsters and people alike. Some folks were brave enough to fight against the creatures of the night. You were not one of them.

You took a turn on the left. An alley behind some type of shady restaurant. You noted that somehow the screams had quieted down. Your breath came out at an uneven pace as your lungs fought for their life to give enough oxygen to your struggling body.

You leaned on the brick wall, heart beating in every part of your body utter exhaustion knocking on the door. Instead of collapsing you just trembled. This is not real. This is not real. This is not- a sob interrupted your frantic mind.

Searching for the source of the sound your eyes adjusted to the dimly lit alleyway locating a hunched over figure. A man? He cried heavily, rocking himself back and forth on the dirty ground as his hands fisted the black fabric of his trousers. He was sitting next to a dumpster that was filled to the brim with plastic bags almost not being able to contain the multitude of waste. In hindsight you probably should’ve left the man on his own to tend to the trash.

You assumed him to be a victim of the attack too. Or maybe he was just drunk, you told yourself with suspicion in your mind.

“Sir? Are you ok?” You asked as you got closer to the sobbing man. It seemed like he didn’t even notice you, he just kept shaking and muttering to himself in between sobs. You were fairly sure that he knew you were there and since there was no answer you decided to attempt consoling him.

You dropped down on his level and stroked his arm gently. You weren’t the best at this type of stuff, but you felt pity towards the blue haired stranger wallowing in his thoughts. Suddenly you felt his arms stretching around you holding onto you like a child embracing their favorite toy during duress.

Panic seeped into you. You didn’t know this man at all, but you figured that he needed this and honestly maybe you did need it too. Awkwardly you placed your hand on his head, your blouse getting wet from the stranger’s snot and tears. His hair was luscious and soft, in a different situation you might have even been jealous.

“It’s going to be.. okay?” That was honestly the best you could do in your state of shock. There was a weird sort of kinship in his breakdown. Had you not been still full of fight or flight reaction you would probably be in the same situation as he was. Instead you felt calm as a day almost clear headed.

Bit by bit he collected his demeanor. His shoulders still shook, but it no longer felt like he was a spare leaf in a summer storm.

“I know a place,” he said, head still against your chest. You heard him but you were confused by his words.

“What?”

He raised his head now looking at you with his mismatched eyes. His face was full of stitch patterns as if he had been broken down and put together multiple times. You soon noticed him having that on his arms as well.

“Sorry, I meant that I know a place. I don’t think we are safe on the streets yet,” he said sniffling pathetically.

“You’re probably right. Where is it?” You asked.

Patch faced man stood up and offered his hand towards you which you gladly took and pushed yourself off from the asphalt. Having been in this place longer now, you really did not want to spend the last moments of your life next to the smell of biowaste and piss.

You walked behind the man who took determined steps towards the main street that was completely empty.

“Sorry I probably gave you a big scare,” he brushed his hands through his hair, swaying a few sections of almost ponytailed hair to the other side of his shoulder.

You wanted to say that there was no bigger scare, than the stuff that went down in the heart of Shibuya. A crying weird dude was a welcome change to the horrors, but you stayed quiet.

“My name is Mahito. Thank you for being there for me,” he smiled gently at you. You tried to return his smile as you told him your name.

“I like your name,” his tone was easy going and friendly.

“Here,” he pointed at an empty restaurant a few blocks further away from the alley.

The restaurant was still lit up, but completely empty. Its decor was homely and somehow very industrial. The lighting was warm and yellow with few pink-ish tints on the brick wall with a statement piece made out of pipes and lightbulbs. Overall it looked like a hipster’s favorite lunch place.

Some of the tables had half drunk beverages and meals. There were some spots where tableware had dropped on the floor and pieces of porcelain lay on the ground with napkins soaking into cream sauce.

Mahito found you both a clean booth and sat you down there as he sauntered over to the restaurant bar. You looked at him in confusion as he grabbed two clean glasses pouring soda from the soft drink dispenser.

“No harm in drinking something sweet after all this, right?” He said trying to smile again, yet it did not really reach his eyes. He seemed awfully cheery for a person that you had found crying just moments ago. It was as if he was wearing a mask. Maybe it’s a shock reaction, you intellectualized his behavior to yourself.

Mahito placed the drink in front of you as he sat next to you on the booth. You were squished between him and the restaurant window with nowhere to go. You hadn’t really noticed how big he was until now. You took a sip from the sweet drink looking at the bubbles that were forming on top of the dark liquid.

“So what happened to you?” You asked him, curiosity taking the best of you.

“I-,” he started confidently but quickly stopped. Mahito looked down at his hands that were placed on the cold table. You saw sadness on him.

“I watched how my friends died," he said quietly. “It was horrible. We were supposed to go to our favorite club. They were supposed to have some type of costume competition,” he explained.

“What are you supposed to be? It looks neat though, really real.” Maybe you tried to lighten the mood or maybe you were just really socially inept.

“Thanks, but uh, I’m not really supposed to be anything. I just learnt to play around with some sfx makeup. My big sis taught me,” he reminisced.

“I hope she’s not here too.”

You both fell silent, whether it was awkward or kind of nice you couldn’t decide. You had not even thought about your other friends that might have been stuck in the area as well. If there were any gods left you would make sure to pray to them every day were you to survive this hell of a night.

“I saw my friend dying too, by those monsters,” you said, sharing your own story.

“Really? What was it like?” His face seemed to light up in awe and as he did that you raised your eyebrow in slight annoyance.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. I just. I don’t know. It all happened so fast,” he quieted down again, seeming regretful of his words.

“Disgusting,” you said, not addressing his apology.

Mahito’s eyes were now on you staring at you like a hawk. You didn’t really notice that as your eyes seemed almost glassy looking at nowhere in particular.

“She had spilt her guts onto the street,” you choked out the words as the picture of your friends dead body stayed on your mind like a thistle.

“Was there a lot of blood?” You felt the warm breath on your cheek, but you were so deep in your mind that only displayed the picture of the hand closing on your friend. You saw her eyes again, her mouth open in a shrilling scream that almost got drowned in the other voices, but to you it was almost amplified, it was the only scream that really mattered. You saw the blood that she coughed up as her own body got crushed and what was meant to protect her and hold her upright punctured her to death.

“Yes.” It was just a whisper of a voice. A tear fell down on your lap and your lips were slightly parted, your body shuddering at the horrible memories. Mahito’s face was now nuzzled in your neck and his eyes were half lidded with a slight smile decorating his face.

“You poor thing,” he cooed. “I’m sorry”, something about his words did not feel sincere at all. The blue haired man’s body started shaking and you heard the most absurd sound that returned you to this moment. You knew you had not said anything funny, so why was he laughing?

Mahito was almost doubled over as he roared next to you. He started clapping his hands like this was the best thing he had heard in the century. He opened his eyes that were now watering from all the laughing and placed his hand on your shoulder.

“You humans are truly pathetic!” He kept on giggling. You pushed his hand off from your shoulder, your mind still in disarray trying to grasp the things he was saying. His words hurt you and it felt unbelievable that this is the way he would react since he had lost someone too or was his sob story a lie? Part of you wanted to curse at him, but some part of you, supposedly the sane one, told you to tuck your head down.

“Oh noo, my little friend had spilt her guts onto the street. Oh woe me! I saaw someone diiiee.” Mahito drew out every syllable as he was mocking you and your tone, making exaggerated sad expressions and he brought his fists to his cheeks to make a boo-hoo movement.

“You idiots die all the time.” Mahito’s face turned serious as he sneered at you. His mismatched gaze steeled on you as he stared you down saying nothing for the time being.

Every alarm was blaring in your mind. Time felt like it was stopping just like it did during the attack. Mahito no longer looked like the almost boyish lost figure that you had found having a panic attack. Now he reminded you of a crazed beast toying with its food and you weren’t about to stay to find out how far his unhinged behavior could go. You had to take your chance of leaving.

You pushed the table with all your might as you took hurried steps out of the booth quickly giving thanks to whoever had decided to not to nail the furniture on the ground permanently. Glasses of soft drink toppled over and rolled to the floor and shattered into hundred little pieces as you hopped clumsily over the crazy man’s body.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” Mahito grabbed your wrist, his nails tugging into your flesh painfully. He had now stood up and was towering over you with an unreadable face.

A faint smile appeared on his face and he looked almost gentle again.

“I’m not going to kill you,” his voice was smooth like one of the finest silk.

“Look- I’m sorry for you and whatever happened to you, but this clearly was a mistake. I hope you have a goo-”

“Shut up.”

Mahito inhaled as if he was smelling the most appetizing meal, relishing in the lack of your voice.

“Much better.”

He was still holding onto you as he raised his free hand on your face to caress your cheek in an attempt to calm you down. Guess it was his turn to be in this role, although at least you had been sincere about it.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Mahito repeated, his eyes trailing down to your lips.

“I do have something else in mind,” he said, taking his gaze back to your eyes.

You gulped audibly and managed to squeak out a question of what he had in mind then. You knew already. Of course you did.

“This theme of death and destruction. It reeaally has got me worked up,” Mahito monologues on.

“I might be a curse, but I’m not beyond needs. I am interested in the human soul and its weaknesses as well as its wickedness,” he kept talking as his thumb started to trail down slowly towards your jawline “but I’m also interested in this”, his hand stopped at your throat.

His touch was feather light and had it not been this psychopath of a man touching you you’d gladly welcome it. Mahito’s words didn’t make a lot of sense to you, but you got the gist of it with threats and all.

“You can choose to fight me.”

He now had his whole palm on your oesophagus, his mismatched eyes shining dangerously.

“But you will lose.”

Mahito squeezed gently as a warning and let go of the wrist he was holding. He grabbed you by your scalp, bunching up some of your hair to tilt your head upwards.

“Do this with me and I’ll let you live. Maybe you even have a good time as well, or maybe I don’t care for your comfort at all and I’ll ditch you to the streets half dead with your panties tangled up in your ankles for the whole world to see your shame,” he blabbered on and stopped. He looked like he was thinking about something really important, pursing his lips together, tipping his head side to side like a cartoon character.

“I haven’t really decided yet,” his voice was sinister.

Your body had gone cold. Do this and he’ll let me live, you thought to yourself fighting the urge to flee. You didn’t want to anger him further, not that there was any winning chance with this man at all. Everything had gone the way he wanted from the moment you had laid your eyes on him.

“Okay, I want to live,” you rasped out.

Mahito looked content, almost affectionate. ”They always do.”

After those words the world turned into a haze. His lips were soft and plump. He was a demanding kisser, not that you even had imagined him to be a kisser in the first place. You thought that you would be simply bent over, but Mahito proved you wrong. Not because he cared, but because he simply did what he wanted to and this was what he desired.

He might have promised you pleasure, if you agreed to do this somewhat willingly but his soul was tainted, and you knew that were you to find enjoyment under him, it would be just a happy surprise to you.

His tongue delved into your mouth. It felt gross. Invading. His hands had moved to your waist going all the way down to your ass squeezing too hard to your liking. He swiftly lifted you up and placed you on the now dirty table where you had been hanging out just moments prior. His boots made crackling sounds as he stepped on the pieces of glass.

You felt sticky as the cola seeped onto your skirt’s fabric but Mahito did not seem to care. He pulled your hair, exposed your neck and bit as his other hand groped your breasts with force bordering on pure pain. Tears were forming in your eyes as your body and mind fought each other.

“You know you should feel special,” his breath felt hot against your neck. “Not everyone is able to see me, let alone touch me”

“Yet here you are.” He pressed his tongue on your cheek and licked away the one spare tear.

He ripped open your blouse cold breeze kissing your torso, before Mahito’s hands were on it. He grabbed your bra, stretching out the fabric with both of his hands until it snapped. He threw the remnants of your underwear on the ground placing his palms on your bare chest. He played and kneaded the tender flesh, arousal waking up in your core.

Mahito pulled you closer to him, your skirt hiking up till your hips with the fabric pressing on your skin, leaving you feeling uncomfortable. You felt him against your clothed sex, only his trousers, your stockings and panties between the two of you. Your breath hitched and his eyes darkened even more.

“I like this look on you humans, when you feel conflicted as to what to feel,” he teased you with shadows dancing on his face as the overhead light got covered by his head.

“He’s a bad man, he’s a crazy man, but why oh why do I like it?” His voice got higher as he imitated a feminine voice, playing up the caricature of a woman.

He pressed his hand between your legs, swiping slowly up feeling the moisture that had gathered there.

“Case in point,” he grinned satisfied. His fingers stopped at the sensitive bud and he started making slow circles looking intently at your face savoring every micro expression as you involuntarily bucked your hips up.

Your cheeks were burning up as small moans escaped your lips. You fought with yourself, tears threatening to spill over as your body moved on its own. What would your friend think if she saw you like this? She had suffered the most tragic death and this man had mocked you in the middle of a crisis and now you were enjoying his attention.

It was as if Mahito knew what buttons to press to get you going. You closed your eyes as you panicked under his touch. He applied more pressure on you as you helplessly grabbed the side of the table. Mahito’s grin widened the stitches on his face stretching out.

“Any self respecting woman would have run by now, even if it meant that they’d get killed in the process, yet you chose to spread your legs wide open to me,” he mused as he continued playing with you.

“You really must want me!” He let out a cold chuckle. Everything he said and did felt like an amateur theater student’s performance. He loved excess, big movements, big emotions - he was like a chaos incarnate. Insane, you thought to yourself, that’s what he was.

His fingers traveled on your panties over to the spot where he reckoned your entrance was and pressed lightly inside leaving a wet mark on the fabric.

He snaked his hands under your stockings waistband and started pulling them down with your panties. The only clothes you had on yourself were the buttonless blouse and a miniskirt that hid nothing. Mahito opened his trouser’s zipper and pulled himself out, giving a few languid pumps to his length.

“What do you say, you show me how much you want me and we’ll see how wet you can get when you service me?” He proposed already dragging you off the table and pushing you towards his cock.

You lost your balance and both your knees and an arm pressed on the glass shards on the stone floor as you tried to not to fall on your face. You winced from pain and you saw blood trickling down as Mahito laughed at your discomfort. Thankfully the pieces were not very big and they’d only leave a surface level wound but it still didn’t lessen the pain.

“Say aah!” Mahito grabbed your chin pushing his cock on your lips, smearing himself over your face.

You took him in your mouth hesitantly, a slightly salty tasty spread on your tongue. Unlike you, he did not hesitate and quickly snapped his hips forward setting up a brutal pace. You tried to be careful of your teeth as Mahito’s hands found themselves in your scalp.

It was hard to breathe, drops of saliva dripping on your chin and bare chest. All you could do was gurgling pathetically at his assault.

Mahito’s grip on your hair tightened as he hummed and moaned happily, an expression of pleasure on his wicked features. His voice got loud, unashamed of the way he was sloppily face fucking you. His sounds did something sinful to you, sending sparks straight to your core. It was a losing war you were fighting and Mahito reveled in it. You moved your own hand into your folds in a desperate attempt to relieve the burn in you earning genuine laughter from the man.

“Now we are talking, you’re getting into this aren’t you?”

Mahito pushed you towards his pelvis forcing himself down your throat, your nose pressing onto his skin. You were choking and your body involuntarily thrashed around him, but he kept you firmly in place.

“Relax, keep it there,” his voice was out of breath as you spasmed around him helplessly. You tried to bear it, but every passing second proved your task harder. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling the trails of mascara in various stages of drying on your cheeks.

Mahito pulled himself out with a loud groan. You were gasping for air as violent coughs shook your frame, his cock still standing in front of you in all its glory.

“You’ve got a splendid mouth, but right now I’m craving your cunt.”

There were no breaks for you as he manhandled you up and pushed your torso against the table. Your tits pressed against the cold wood, your hips pressing on the sides of the table. You felt messy, degraded even, as your slightly wet face came in contact with the surface.

Mahito started pushing in you carefully and you gasped, when you felt him widening you forcing you to make space for him.

“W-what about protection?” You talked for the first time.

“Not on the pill, eh? Well don’t worry your pretty head about it, it wouldn’t work anyways,” he said and sheathed himself fully in you.

Then it began. Skin against skin, noises of pleasure filled the empty restaurant leaving only your ever increasing cries reverberating in the establishment. His hips kept snapping onto yours, chest heaving as he panted and moaned. You loved the sounds that you both made your cunt tightening around him when an especially beautiful whine left his mouth.

You cried out loud when he found that one spot inside of you after one particularly powerful thrust. Your brows furrowed, hands seeking a place to hold onto as you quietly said his name. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice, but of course he did. Riled up from your reactions he made sure to angle himself so that he’d get to see your further succumb to the decadence of his actions.

His hands trailed towards your neck admiring how your hair was sprawled out messily, some strands sticking to your swollen lips. He massaged your back finally digging his nails into it and scratched it for fun.

“Isn’t that- ah- something”, you tried talking, “I’m supposed to do?” You were referencing his peculiar actions.

“Already thinking of the next position? We’ll see about that,” he jested but his words lacked bite as he pleasured himself using you.

Your back was burning as he kept swiping across leaving pink streaks on your skin. He grabbed your throat and squeezed gently, not trying to restrict the flow of your breath. He had had enough of that for now. It was merely a gesture to show who had the real power here.

You were getting close feeling the familiar coil about to snap. His movements got rougher and more sporadic. He drove into you like a beast, going deep into you at times hitting your cervix. You babbled incoherently, no longer caring for how you appeared, the only thing occupying your mind was the need to sprint to the finish line.

Your thighs trembled as you were on your tiptoes. The table inched forwards every time Mahito drove his cock in you. He was nearing his own end. He placed his fingers on your clit rubbing it haphazardly, partially disregarding how sensitive it was, hoping that this would drive you off the edge.

You didn’t know where pleasure and pain started or ended. They melt together creating one hell of an addicting concoction and you wanted more. Gods, how you did want more, your juices dripping on your thighs. You felt lightheaded and suddenly the sparks turned into a flame that engulfed you, spreading to even the most distant parts of your body.

Mahito fucked you through your orgasm and somewhere in your haze you felt him still when his cock pulsated in you as your body involuntarily returned the favor. Some part of your brain that was still present wanted to push him off, tell him to mark you somewhere else, anywhere else but there.

The blue haired man collected his breathing as relaxation coursed in his body. He pulled himself out of you looking curiously at the spot where you were just connected, delighted when he saw him trickling down your cunt. “Beautiful,” he muttered to himself as he looked at the wreck of a woman in front of him. The woman stayed put, probably too tired to move.

The restaurant door opened and heavy footsteps thumped on the floor.

“Is this really the best usage of your time?” He was disapproving.

Ah Choso, ever the killjoy. Mahito turned around not caring that the man who just came in would see all of him.

“God, put that thing away,”Choso said exasperatedly.

“We’ve been looking for you. Geto’s getting antsy when he doesn’t know our whereabouts,” Choso explained, taking a quick peek at the woman laying against the table not looking one bit more aware of her situation.

You were vaguely conscious, body and mind bruised from the event that just took place. Hands still ghosted over your skin even though you knew that Mahito was not paying attention to you at all. You felt exhausted, so exhausted that you felt yourself slipping to your mind looking for somewhere safe. It was like a dark veil was put on you, your vision blurred looking at the two outlines of men. Who was the other one again?

“Aw, that’s a bummer. I wanted to have more fun,” Mahito said, pouting.

“I think you’ve had enough of that already. Let’s go,” Choso turned his back to the idiot of a curse.

“Goodbye sweetie, try to get into a better position. You’ll break your neck like that,” Mahito addressed you jokingly as the wooden door shut behind them.

Breathing heavily you watched the two men walk outside from the huge windows. Mahito was practically skipping forwards while the dark haired man put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. Muffled laughter reached your ears and you were sure you’d recognize that sound for the rest of your life.

You maneuvered yourself up, body wobbling as if you were training to walk on a tightrope. You stretched out your arms rolling your shoulders to relieve the tension gathered in your tired muscles. You pulled your skirt down and tugged at the remnants of your blouse against your chest in a desperate attempt to cover yourself up.

You looked around the restaurant spotting a low table with couches as the seats. They were too small for an adult to lie down on, but that would do. You fluffed up the pillow and curled up into a ball skin feeling sticky due to all kinds of substances, but that was the least of your problems.

You wondered miserably, did this count as survival. If it did, the gods that let you still draw your breath had a shit sense of humor.

#tw: noncon #mahito x reader #mahito x you #yandere jjk #yandere mahito #idk does non yandere mahito even exist but ig i'll tag it like that

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ateotd-izzy · 10 months

Text

maroon | thomas x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me”

during his first night in the glade, thomas (quite literally) bumps into a girl.

“and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon”

as more time passes, thomas becomes closer with y/n (very close), but that changes after they escape the maze.

“the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones”

warnings: it’s bad, kissing, maze runner, swearing and whatever (i never know what to write here)

“the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon”

☾

“our med-jacks, clint and jeff.” newt introduced to the greenie as he showed the boy around. “and this is— woah, watch out.”

the greenie hadn’t been watching where he was going and bumped right into you as you walked past, spilling the drink he had been holding all over your shirt.

“oh, god, i am so…” he paused as he met your eyes. a girl? “sorry.”

you looked down at your soaking wet shirt and a few boys around snickered.

“thanks.” you smiled sarcastically and turned on your heel, heading towards the small hut that sat not far from the homestead.

“nice one, greenie.” newt clapped him on the back. “i think you just ruined her day.”

“who was that?” the boy asked, watching as you disappeared behind the door of the hut.

“y/n. she’s one of the runners.” newt answered. “also the glade’s only girl.”

“oh.”

inside you were changing your shirt, muttering in annoyance as you did so.

your favorite shirt (out of the five or so you owned) was now covered in gally’s foul-smelling drink thanks to that greenie.

after changing, you went outside to join the party again, only for it to be declared over moments after the greenie remembered his name.

thomas.

“uh, hey.” he jogged over to you as you walked back to your hut. “i’m, um, i’m sorry about before. is your shirt okay?”

“it’ll survive.” you shrugged. “i guess.”

“so, you’re a runner?” he asked, walking with you. “you go into the maze with that minho guy?”

“yep.” you glanced at him. “are you just going to follow me the whole way?”

“oh, sorry.” he slowed down. “um, i’ll go now.”

“okay.” you stared.

“see you around, y/n.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “right. see you around…”

“thomas.”

“see you around, thomas.”

while it may not have seemed like it, you and thomas became pretty close friends over the next week or so, and you felt dumb to admit that you even had feelings for him.

he was in the same boat. except thomas was head-over-heels in love with you.

you kissed once. when the glade was being attacked by grievers, he kissed you before the two of you split up.

so after your group escaped the maze, the two of you did your best to stick together.

the two of you sat on the floor of the room your group had been forced into after being ‘saved’.

your legs were stretched out to sit in his lap, and his hands sat on top of them.

the rest of the group was around, all full after eating more food than they’d ever seen in their lives.

you couldn’t focus on the conversation that was going on between teresa and the boys, because all you could focus on was how thomas’ fingers drew small shapes on the bare skin of your leg where your pants had rolled up a little.

you wanted to tell him how you felt. you wanted to kiss him again. but everyone else was around, and the thought of being in front of everyone made you uncomfortable.

you had no clue how thomas did his whole leader thing.

when the door to the room opened, everyone jumped up and ran over, eager to know exactly what was going on.

the man who had opened the door introduced himself as mr. janson and led your group through the compound.

thomas held your hand the whole time.

“first things first, let’s do something about that smell.”

the boys were being taken to a different room to you and teresa. just before your hand slipped from his, you kissed thomas on the cheek. simple enough.

that night you properly kissed again and he asked you to be his girlfriend, and despite all of your worries, you said yes.

it wasn’t long after that when your group had to leave the compound with another boy, aris. you still hadn’t escaped wicked.

you stuck by thomas’ side the whole time, or until you were separated again.

you didn’t even know if he was alive, but jorge was confident he and brenda were fine.

it took a few days until you reached what jorge called marcus’ place.

you got into the party and the first thing you spotted was thomas and brenda.

kissing.

then they pulled apart, thomas said something and brenda wandered off.

thomas seemed to spin around the room until he yelled out and collapsed.

your heart was broken.

you were separated for just a few days, the longest since you had met, and he was kissing a girl he barely knew.

you couldn’t even say anything to him because he was out cold. instead you had to help minho drag him upstairs and act like nothing happened.

then, after he woke up, your group was on the run again, searching for the right arm.

in the car, thomas reached his hand over and tried to take yours in his, but you pulled yours back. you didn’t let him.

he looked at you. he was confused.

you didn’t answer his look. you just turned your head away from him and looked out the car window.

he had no clue why you were suddenly ignoring him. not the entire drive to the mountains, not when the were taken to the right arm camp, not when brenda collapsed.

it was only when he was in the tent with her later, just after brenda woke up, when it clicked to him why.

you had seen brenda kiss him.

everything seemed to click into place at that moment, and he jumped to his feet halfway through his conversation with brenda.

“you okay?” she asked.

“yeah. yeah, there’s just something i need to do.” thomas looked down at her. “i’m sorry, i’ll be back later.”

then he ran out of the tent.

the camp was large, and thomas had no clue where he could find you. or any of his friends for that matter.

it took about ten minutes of searching until he found you.

you were sitting alone on a rock, looking down at your feet and mumbling something to yourself.

“y/n?”

you looked up and thomas realized you had been crying.

“what?”

there was a twinge of bitterness in your voice, and thomas frowned. it reminded him of how you had spoken to him the night you met, when he had splashed his drink into you.

“you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

he knew you weren’t, and he ignored the obvious signs that you didn’t want him around when he sat down beside you.

“what do you want, thomas?” you asked.

without another word, he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

at first, you thought about trying to pull away. but you didn’t.

“why’d you kiss her? brenda?” you asked eventually. “do you like her better? because, you know, i’ll back off or whatev—”

“no, no, no, y/n.” he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes. “i could never like anyone better than i like you.”

“then why—?”

“she kissed me.” thomas told you, cupping your cheek with one hand. “we were drugged, okay? i…”

thomas winced slightly at the memory of brenda’s face after his words.

“i thought she was you.” he admitted. “whatever that marcus guy put in that drink had me seeing the weirdest shit.”

“are you calling me weird shit?” you teased and thomas’ eyes widened.

“what? no.” he shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know. i was kidding.”

you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized.

“don’t be. i get it now.” you shrugged.

“yeah, but i could’ve said something sooner.”

“when?” you asked. “when you were passed out? or when we were almost shot by mountain people?”

he chuckled. “okay, maybe not. but—”

“tommy, i get it. don’t worry.”

the feeling of freedom and happiness that evening was short lived, and soon became a nightmare.

teresa betrayed them, wicked burned the camp to the ground, and multiple people were taken.

sonya, aris, minho and you.

thomas had lost you. he had lost the battle. but he was determined to get you and minho and everyone else back.

he would do anything he could. he would do whatever it took to get you back.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: why don’t these ever turn out like they sounded in my head LMAO

#thomas x reader #the maze runner #the scorch trials #the death cure #tmr x reader #tmr thomas #tmr thomas x reader #thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #gally #tmr gally #tmr teresa #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien #tmr fic #tmr chuck

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moooxy · 2 years

Note

mean!jim hopper smut?

Harmless (18+)

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Mean!Jim Hopper x Reader

Synopsis: Every time you hang out with Jonathan, Joyce’s friend drives you home.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: possessiveness, dumbification, dirty talk, overall mean hopper, rough grabbing, slapping, semi-public sex, threats, size kink, face-fucking, daddy kink, creampie

AN: oh I’ve been waiting for a hopper request for so long

It wasn’t your place to say, but you quite liked Hopper. Whenever he wasn’t so serious, his sense of humour was cute and quick-witted. You liked to mess with him; talking back to him when he splashed his authority onto you and Jon, teasing him whenever he looked too solemn.

However, you don’t think he liked you very much. Sure he faked a simper around Joyce, but between you and him… he stayed as stoic as ever. And god, whenever you talked back to him you could feel the annoyance vibrating in his blood. As fun as it was for you, he didn’t reciprocate the amusement.

As a plan to get some peace and quiet, Joyce started to kick the both of you out when she tended to routinely ask Hopper to give you a ride home. Neither of you had the heart to disappoint the sweet Joyce Byers, so you went along with it.

You visited Jon a few times a week, and each time Hopper drove you home. Each time you tried to make the ride less awkward, by attempting to strike up a conversation or flicking through his music tapes—but he was impenetrable.

It was a Friday night, and Hopper’s shitty car bounced as you both got in. You hated his car; it was ugly, jouncy, noisy and it tended to wildly splutter at random times. Taking a deep breath to overcome the immense amount of intimidation you felt asking him a normal question, you speak up. “Can you drop me at the diner? It’s on the way—“

“Why?” He asks, flicking on his headlights.

“I uhm, I have a date.”

“With who? Thought you were with Jonathan,” he grumbles.

“No, he’s dating Nancy Wheeler. And it’s with uh— Billy Hargrove,” you let out.

“Oh definitely not,” he snarls. “Not with that kid.” You don’t dare to argue, his aura of authority ignites— he wants no challenge from you.

You don’t say a word when you leave his car, after he drops you off outside your house.

The next few times you visit Jon, you don’t stick around and wait for Hopper. You started to bring your bike again, so you’d just walk straight past Hopper and ride home. A week later on Saturday, he catches you out. It’s dark out, he snatches your wrist just as you’re about to leave.

“It’s too late to bike. I’ll take you,” he grunts. He mumbles a short goodbye to Joyce, before he leads you out, his hand hovering over the small of your back. He loads your bike in the trunk, his car jolts forward when he piles into the driver's seat. He turns the key, and the silence between you is disturbed by the choking of his engine. “So, you’ve been avoidin’ me?”

You choke on your own saliva at the unexpected confrontation. “Uhm… I’d think of it more as doing you a favour.” You say as he finally pulls out of the driveway.

“How so?”

“Well, I know you’re not very fond of me. I know you’d rather hang out with Joyce more than driving me home…” you explain.

He snorts, “hang out with Joyce? We’re not teenagers,” he mumbles and you shrug. “I’d rather you get home safe.”

“Well, that’s your job Chief.” You tease.

“Alright, don’t get too cocky now,” he says. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, ‘s all. Don’t want you to get your heart broken by that fuckin’ Hargrove kid.”

“You’re not my daddy,” you mumble.

“Okay…? Like I said, just lookin’ out for ya.” He says, pulling up to the curb outside of your house. “Out, kid.”

You scoff, “thanks for the ride, daddy.” Hopper watches you rig your bike out of his trunk, letting out a strangled exhale when you walk inside your house. You made his dick fucking twitch when you called him ‘daddy’, and he instantly senses that something bad’s gonna happen.

A few days later, you’re climbing in his car again. He has news to tell you this time, and you can tell something’s up because of his stiffness— well, he’s more stiff than usual.

“Saw that kid kissin’ another girl at the bar,” he grumbles into the tense atmosphere of his car.

“Hopper, you really think I’m seeing him because I wanna be his girlfriend?” You ask with a slight chortle. He grunts in response, confused. He signals for you to elaborate. “I’m only going out with him because…” you stop yourself, already oversharing.

“‘Cus of what?”

“Well… It’s silly but— I heard he’s got a big—”

“Oh you gotta be kiddin’ me,” he says with a judgemental huff. “Where is your self respect?”

“Oh so I let a guy fuck me once and all of the sudden I have no self-respect?” You scoff, turning away from him. You’re pissed off. “I have needs.”

“Well sugar, I have needs too but you don’t see me going around and finding a slut with the ‘tightest pussy’, do ya?” He sternly mumbles, a hint of ridicule laced in his tone.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Well so is he so I don’t see the problem,” he replies.

“The problem is: I’m not using you for your cock, so it actually matters if you’re an asshole to me,” you seethe.

You see his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “Don’t get mouthy with me, girl.”

“Or what?” You scorn, gritting your teeth as you look out of the window.

“Or I’ll fucking pull over,” he snarls.

“Yeah? And do what? You’re harmless,” you deride him.

“You wanna find out?” He looks over at you, threatening you.

“You won’t do shit—“ and with that, he’s steering off to the side of the road, it’s a conveniently quiet area surrounded by trees.

“Get out,” he growls, jumping out of his seat and stomping over to your side. “You wanna act like a slut, you get treated like one,” he rumbles, trapping you against the side of his car. The bitter air caresses your bare thighs, the wind causing your skirt to aggressively fly up. “On your fuckin’ knees.”

You don’t dare to disrespect him, you’re fucking in for it now. Yeah, you did want to wind him up, you did find him attractive, you did find him fun to play with—but you really blew it now.

“Open your mouth,” he commands. “And I swear to god if you say ‘make me’ I’ll fucking dislocate your jaw,” he grunts. Instantly, your mouth flies open and he almost laughs. You’d be lying if you said his dominance wasn’t making you wet. “Good slut, you look so pretty right now.”

You don’t dare to take your eyes off his, you hear his belt clink as he tugs it off. After you hear a quick zip, he takes himself out. He’s so fucking big, he’s even comparing his size to your face. He strokes himself, his length reaches your forehead— and he’s incredibly thick too. He slaps your tongue with his cock, tauntingly chuckling at the evident fear in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, sugar? Thought you liked big cocks,” he teases, his honey voice laced with sticky threat.

“Not as big as yours—“ you say but he curtly slaps your face with his thick fingers.

“When did I say you could talk?” He grumbles, “bad fucking slut.” And with that, he slides himself into your mouth. “Not a sound from you,” he commands and you nod as best as you can.

He moistens himself up with the saliva in your mouth, slathering his cock with your spit and then thrusting himself back in, slowly. He’s only halfway in and you already feel like gagging, he’s already cutting off your air supply. He thrusts himself in your mouth— you’re not really doing much sucking, he’s using you as a fuck toy. Everytime you close your eyes he slaps your cheek, and a proud smile emits on his face when he sees your glassy eyes. “If only you were this quiet when you haven’t got a cock stuffed in your throat. God, everytime you run your mouth I’m doing this,” he grumbles. “You really are a good girl deep down, aren’t you?”

You hum, when you blink a tear drops from your eyelashes.

“Poor baby, crying on daddy’s cock. I’d feel bad for you but fuck— you had this coming,” he mumbles with a grin. He pulls out of your mouth, and he feels his knees go weak at the sight. “Fuck—it’s drippin’ down your chin,” he almost moans. Your saliva is drizzling down from your bottom lip. “Come on honey,” he opens his back door, “I’ll look after ya.”

He slides in, patting his knee and you eagerly follow him. He has you on his lap, hard cock springing up. He slides your panties out of the way, silently thanking you for wearing a skirt. You sink down onto him with a strangled moan, and he chuckles evilly.

“Look at you. Sugar, I’m going to fucking devour you,” he rasps and you whine into his neck.

And that’s exactly what he does.

It’s not long before he has you bouncing on his cock, your legs aching and you’re begging him to make you slow down. He doesn’t listen, his hands continue to bounce you repeatedly on his huge cock. You’re so close already, and you try your hardest to wait and save yourself from the embarrassment— but he knows, he can read you like a fucking book.

“Sugar,” he moans out. “I can feel you tightenin’ around me,” he groans. “You gonna cum?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please.”

“Fuck, say please again and I’ll let you cum right fuckin’ now,” Hopper groans, spreading your cheeks open and slamming you down onto his cock.

“Please, please,” you mewl.

“Good slut. Good fucking slut,” he gasps. You finally let loose, pussy spasming around his length as you’re finally able to cum. “You feel so good,” he mumbles, still bouncing you up and down. “Don’t worry sugar, keep making those cute little sounds and I’ll cum soon,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “God, you’re perfect for me. Should have fucked this pussy sooner,” he says and you nod in agreement. “You’re fucked stupid, bet you don’t even know what I said, do you?” He chuckles and you nod again— he was right. He always was, he knew you so well in such a short amount of time. “Fuck ‘m close,” he groans. You lean in to kiss him but he turns his head and you frown. “I don’t do kissing, sugar.”

You hum in disappointment, arms clutching onto his shoulders. He stops bouncing you, holding you upright and pummelling into you from below. It produces a vulgar slapping sound, and you feel your eyes rolling back at the pure pleasure and overstimulation you’re feeling right now.

“Perfect pussy, all fucking mine.” He grunts, slapping into you relentlessly. He groans, “I’m close. You want my cum, sugar? You want my cum in your little pussy?” He eggs you along, and you nod vigorously. “Fuuuck,” he groans out. Quickly after that, he stops pounding into you and finally spills inside of you. “That what you needed in order to stop seeing that delinquent kid?”

“God, yes,” you whine.

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper #mean hopper #hopper x reader #hopper smut #stranger things smut

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marchsfreakshow · 1 month

Text

Comforting A Murder [James Patrick March]

Hurt/Comfort // Smut. (I guess?)

Well you did it. You finally murdered someone, but right in the middle of a mess James wants to clean up. You attempt to comfort eachother...

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: dub-con, PnV, quick fuck?, James being James.

Brb inspiring this off of ep.9 and 10. Had no ideas anymore so I figured basing this off an episode or two would help me write this.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Oh, your pretty red dress. Ruined by the darkness of fresh blood. Arms and legs decorated by splashes of someone's else liquid soul. A beautiful decorated purple gun, turned black, dripping. Eyes widened; scared, confused, joy? Your mind racing with thoughts of what others would think.

Others? Each ghost more insane than the last? They didn't care. Most, happy by your calling. Liz, your best friend, daring you to talk to someone. "Talking to James will do good my dear. I understand he is in love with the countess still, but you know he takes interest in you as well."

"Sure.." A shaky word left your brain as you stood straight, gripping onto the used gun like it was a dying breath. "But... Jesus Liz, he's so... intimidating."

"Only if you don't talk to him." She stated. You took a deep breath and a step back, staring at the now decomposing lady that you laid bare. Flesh, body and soul ripped down the middle after a shot in the head. "A wonderful killing. Just like you." Liz was never too interested in the killing around the Cortez, but the way you killed... invigorating.

" 'suppose." You undressed as quickly as you killed, picking up a purple dress. The same shape, size and glimmer as the one you had murdered in. Your body still dripping in red.

"go like that. Go and find him right now."

"like this? No. Liz no! I can't. I have to wash myself. And my gun."

She shook her head and took a small drag of her cigarette. "No. Go find him. Now."

After a long silence, you took a deep and long breath, debating whether or not you should find the prolific killer. So you agreed. Walking out of the room and leaving the open torso to bleed dry, Liz watched, maybe silently judging you. You could never tell. The still image ran in your head as you walked. The heart slowing down, and the stomach just sat there, begging to be opened so the acid could dissolve everything else.

"...James." You saw him standing there, looking bewildered. He had been slapped, in front of an open hallway. An open hallway? Why on earth...? But you whispered his name as you took a step closer, transferring your gun from one hand to the other. "James.." you cleared your throat, looking down to the ground, feeling insecure. The killer looked at you, and smiled, taking his hand off his face.

"Ah, love. You look...ravishing, and a gun? My." He started, his smirk coming back to him. Nervous and worried, a blush appeared, and your hands were shaky again. The gun was still coloured darkly, leaving little trails of blood behind you. If there was any more blood on you, you would look like Carrie, an icon to you and your deranged but silent mind. "May I ask, your kill you have come back from?"

"a lady. Insulted my dress. Shot her head, then...ripped her torso. Neck to crotch." You admitted, looking everywhere but in his eyes. Another step towards you. He took your hand and looked lovingly at the gun.

"I'm so proud my dear." A teacher, smiling widely at his student, blood smearing itself over both your hands. You stared at his hands. Such precious jewels, covered in a dark thick liquid, a gun being shared between two. A small gulp and another deep breath. "What are you nervous about?" He asked as you looked up to the open hallway, a looming darkness. It scared you, but you never showed it. You wanted to impress James, being scared would annoy him.

Oh just how wrong you were. James could tell you were scared about what could have been lurking in the hallway. What a wonderful thing to use to his advantage. "This hallway is empty my darling. Nothing exists here." He simply stated. Innocently looking back up to him and seeming like you didn't understand anything he was saying. Like you didn't believe him. "Go on. Walk in. You have your dear gun, use it if need to." Absolutely not.

But a cold hand on your back, pushing you in. It left a faint handprint on you, and James noticed, letting out a small chuckle. It rang through the looming hallway, making you shake more. Holding the gun in front of you, worriedly looking around. Then a shot. You shot something. You think. Maybe? But you turned and ran. Ran into James' chest, even if he didn't wrap his arms around you as you secretly hoped he would. "You found something?"

"I think...I think so?" Your voice was hurried, and resting your head on his chest.

"Come dear. Let's take you away from this." He placed a dead hand on the small of your back, still bloody. The blood on you was decently dried now, feeling unable to wash it off. Eyes always straight and front as you both walked. Meeting anyone's eyes would increase your guilt about the murder. Such a beautiful but meaningless kill in James' mind. Killing someone for insulting your pretty red dress? Insanity.

James' room appeared before you, and you were led into it. Cold but comforting. A room you had wanted to go into. Forever. Everything interested you. Mindlessly, you started to wander around. Leaving gentle touches over every surface. The interest you two had with each other, coming to light. Your wonder and innocence, lit up when you walked around. Going in circles, your hand loosening around the firearm you held so dear. A beautiful thing, all based on your personality. James picked it up as you stepped in another circle, staring out of the window.

Ah, the open world. Nothing you missed. Bullied for the way you worked, and how you carried yourself. You left the daylight alone and stayed in the Cortez. Liz and Iris helping you with anything you need from the open world. "Dear. You are lost again." James murmured, standing behind you. A breath? Maybe? By the crook of your neck. "Ah yes, the life outside of this hotel. You should not worry about it, my dear. You are here now. You are here forever, murdering just because?"

Words that left him, and made you shiver. "But, I want the life again."

"I understand darling, but you must understand that this hotel can offer you more. Offer you something you could not find outside." A hand, gripping the front of your neck, thick fingers finding a vein and pressing on it, hard. "The people here are dangerous, wonderful. Full of deprived attraction." A hitch in your breath as the pressure got harder and harder. The stopping of your breath and its effects on James were pressed against your back. Was he really getting hard at this? Really? Okay...

"James..." All you did was lean against him, your neck open to him again, so many possibilities, and so many things he could do to you. A low groan, maybe a snarl leaving him. His free hand exploring your side, gripping at the dress fabric and feeling the dried blood on you. Every touch felt odd like you shouldn't be enjoying it so much. But your love for James, and the way your need for him manifested as killing for him. Innocents who did nothing to you but make a snarky comment, a little joke. Why was he so irresistible to you? A killer who died nearly 100 years ago, who loves murder, fine absthine, and his students.

Wandering hands trailing down your back, pulling down the zipper. The purple fabric fell swiftly off you, pooling around your flats and the blood-covered legs of yours. All this talk and touch of murder, blood, opening someone up, it was nothing but erotica turned real to him. Such a need for someone he did not know too well. Who was he to deny such a gift? Deny the chance to make someone feel something other than rage and upset.

Such moveable skin in front of him, the way he touched and practically groped you, making you feel mindless already. Your head, silently thrown back onto James' shoulder, feeling every touch he gave. The way he gripped onto your hips, such a need and desire in him. You practically threw yourself onto the bed, but sat on your knees politely. Even when a feeling of warmth spread through you, nerves were still there and you never wanted to upset your dear so. Shy, doe eyes watching a ghost undress. A quick coyote, readying himself to catch the doe it craved.

Silence in your voices, but catching breaths, underwear ripped off of you. You were being pulled up from your knees and pushed down onto all fours. He fucked like you were going away that night. Barely any time to catch your breath as he kept going.

Faster.

Harder.

Fucking you like the world was ending. Your moans; loud, unfiltered, they could be heard anywhere in the Cortez. His were reserved but animalistic in nature, never giving you a break. You screamed his name, as he yelled yours. Bruises were appearing on your neck, hips and thighs.

When had the dam been broken? You wondered as you cleaned yourself up, starting to sit up. Looking over to your side, James was half-dressed already. "I will admit my darling, that blood drying itself on you truly is enchanting." He nonchalantly mentioned, walking over to where you sat. A little hum in response, looking to the side where James was not. The ghost pulled your face towards him and left a kiss on your wanting lips. Pushing yourself forward to try and kiss him again, only to be denied.

Only to be denied as he picked up that purple gun you adored.

Only to be denied as he reloaded it.

Only to be denied as he aimed it at your worrying face.

BANG.

Only to be denied one last breath, one that you could've kissed him again with.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @nahoyasboyfriend @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @tatelangdonsweater @feefymo @fear-is-truth

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