#I had a lot of fun but boi was the mask heavy
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Slade isn’t expecting visitors today, so he’s annoyed that the sound of footsteps interrupts his book. The curtains are drawn wide to let in the sunlight, and he doesn’t bother getting off the chair. As one of Talia’s best gladiators, he can get away with a lot more than anyone else. He’s earned enough to buy his freedom ten times over, and Talia knows that the only reason he’s here is because he wants to be here.
It’s in her best interests to keep him sweet. A lesson Ra’s never learned.
“Slade,” she calls out before she fully steps into view, wearing a low-cut dress typical of high class fashion and yet bristling with knives, “I’ve brought a gift.”
“I wasn’t aware I was expecting one,” Slade says, still in his seat. There are two guards with her in addition to her personal shadow, and they’re holding someone upright between them.
“This was one a long time in waiting,” Talia smiles, and beckons the guards forward. It takes a long time to recognize the stumbling figure between them—clad in the typical revealing silks of a bedslave, bandages wound around their torso and half across their face, ruffling dark hair. Their head is bowed, golden cuffs around their wrists, but it isn’t until Slade spots the blue brooch clipping the silks to the unassuming black collar that he realizes who this is.
Nightwing. Richard Grayson. Up until recently, one of the Arena’s favorite gladiators. And the man that killed Slade’s son.
He doesn’t realize he’s on his feet until Talia’s smile widens. He ignores her, and stares at Grayson. The man is gaunt where he was once gleaming, a golden young gladiator now gray and exhausted and faintly trembling. The outline of his collarbones is starkly visible, as are the dark shadows around his visible eye. Grayson lifts his head to meet Slade’s gaze, expression cool and blank, and there’s no fire in that startlingly blue eye.
He looks like someone walking to their executioner.
“And what’s the gift?” Slade asks sharply. He heard of Grayson’s loss weeks ago, a startling upset with one of Talia’s young gladiators, and the Arena had voted to spare him. He assumed that Talia would’ve used Grayson in one of the games she was always playing to catch Lord Wayne’s attention, not bring him here.
To the first person in the country who wanted to tear him apart.
Talia smiles, and gestures to Grayson. There’s a flicker of something in Grayson’s eye that fades to blankness. It isn’t quite resignation or quiet placidity. It’s a mask, and Slade’s itching to tear it off his face.
“He’s yours,” she says. For what? For a night, a day, a week, a fuck, a beating, a—“to do with whatever you wish. Keep him or kill him, I do not care. His fate is yours.”
Slade blinks. This time, the fracture across Grayson’s mask spreads wider before it’s suppressed. Before Slade can fully understand what’s going on, his cell door is opened and Grayson is none-too-gently shoved inside.
“Have fun,” Talia laughs, smirking at Grayson before she walks away, “Goodbye, Richard.”
Grayson doesn’t say a word. Soon, the guards and Talia are beyond hearing, and the heavy weight of the silence is the only thing there. Silence, and Slade staring at the single person he’s wanted to tear apart for years.
He takes a step forward. Grayson presses back against the bars, clearly trembling now, expression fighting to be blank but panic too hard to fully conceal. He’s trapped in a corner and there’s nowhere to go and Slade stalks forward with all the time in the world.
“Nothing to say?” Slade asks, because he’s been waiting for this moment for so long, stoking the fires of his vengeance year after year, waiting for Wayne to finally buckle and schedule a fight between them, and in his dreams, Nightwing turns to Icarus, the boy that flew too close to the sun. And Nightwing dies, red spilling across the sands.
Now it looks like the wax wings burned on the way off but didn’t manage to take him with it, and Grayson’s thinner than he usually is, lost muscle and new scars and no matter how fiercely he tries to manage his expression, there’s a brightness he can’t quite mimic.
“Is there anything to say?” Grayson asks, voice hoarse, “You’re going to kill me. I don’t have a speech for pretty last words.” Defiant but weary.
This is a pale imitation of the golden, gleaming young gladiator that raised bloody dual swords to the roar of an Arena, triumphant over his son’s corpse, and frustration abruptly washes over Slade.
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Slade growls, and he’s close enough to wrap a hand around Grayson’s throat and yank him away from the bars. “Do you really think that I’ve been dreaming of killing you for years only to give you the mercy of a quick death?”
Grayson does attempt to defend himself, long-ingrained fighting instincts unable to let him truly surrender, no matter how much resignation he feigns, but Slade flings him at the floor to avoid the retaliatory swipe.
That Grayson falls is the first surprise. The man has preternatural grace. Slade quickly calculates that the bandages across his right eye are the culprit, as are whatever injuries he’s hiding, but the thought is pushed aside when Grayson hits the ground.
Because he screams, actually, open-mouthed, screams, voice cracking in a way that indicates precisely why it’s so hoarse, and immediately rolls over to curl up on his side, gasping and shaking and nearly clawing at the floor.
That isn’t a minor injury. That is—
Slade’s not an idiot, not a mindless brute tearing people apart because he knows nothing else, no matter how much the impression suits him. He used to be in the military, used to command, used to strategize, and he’s spent years watching lords and ladies play their games.
It’s a fact that Grayson displeased Talia in some way, she would’ve given him back to Wayne otherwise. Dropping him in Slade’s lap means Grayson’s only coming out of the cell as a bloody ruin. So Talia got her money’s worth, sold Grayson to everyone that’s wanted a piece of the charming young gladiator, until—until someone damaged him so badly that Talia wouldn’t even try putting him back together.
Slade grabs that ridiculous brooch and uses it to lift Grayson off the floor. Grayson’s struggles are weak, and they cut out with a choked sound when Slade drops him on the bed. Slade finds the nearest knife.
Grayson sees the light glinting off the blade, reflected in his too-wide blue eye, and squeezes that eye shut. Stops breathing too.
Slade carefully slides the knife under the bandages and slices them all free.
The outer layer comes unwrapped easily, the cloth wrapped around Grayson’s head to keep it in place. The second layer is more packed together, but comes undone with a few more cuts. It’s the third layer that’s plastered to Grayson’s skin, and Grayson starts making those quiet sounds again, as if he’s trying not to shout.
It comes off, tugging at every inch of Grayson’s skin, to reveal a brilliantly red slash extending from just below Grayson’s right cheekbone to disappear into his hairline. In its path lies an empty eye socket.
One visible blue eye stares at him, glimmering and wide.
When Slade places the knife right under it, he gets the first true glimpse of terror.
~#~
Grayson is sitting on the edge of the bed by the time Slade steps through the curtain, a book in one hand but clearly alert. Aware of how long gladiatorial training takes, aware that Slade is back too soon, wary and—
His entire face brightens when their visitor steps past Slade. Any thought Slade had of keeping himself between the two is thrown out the window when Grayson pushes himself upright and nearly throws himself at Hood with a cry of “Jaybird!”
Hood catches him and clutches him close, spilling a long string of half-choked apologies, and now Slade’s curiosity is burning. Hood is murmuring “sorry,” over and over and over again, and Grayson is shushing him, and there’s a familiarity there that Slade hadn’t expected. Sure, he knows that Hood was trained alongside Grayson, before he went out to a match he wasn’t prepared for and became Talia’s, but Hood’s bitterness for his former master and all Wayne’s gladiators is fairly well known.
Until now.
“It’s okay,” Grayson finally says loudly, squeezing Hood tightly in a hug, “It’s okay, Jay, it’s not your fault, and I’m fine, I’m okay.”
Well, that was a lie. Hood clearly knows it as well because he disentangles enough to look Grayson in the face—and blanches. “What happened?” he says quietly, cupping the side of Grayson’s face that’s still bandaged, “Your face—your eye—” Quick as a flash, Hood turns on Slade with a snarl, “What did you do to him, you bastard—”
“Jason, stop!” Grayson gets between them, his back to Slade, holding Hood’s shoulders, “Slade didn’t do anything to me, calm down.”
The light in Hood’s eyes is a little less manic when his gaze drops to Grayson. “If it wasn’t him, then who?” Hood snaps. Grayson doesn’t immediately answer. “Dick.”
Slade crosses his arms and waits. Grayson didn’t tell him the full story, but it’s easy—“Sionis,” Grayson exhales.
Enough to guess.
Hood’s face runs a full gamut of emotions in half a minute. “Talia’s blacklisted Roman,” Hood says slowly, “That because of you?”
Grayson makes a weak smile and shrugs, “Difficult to do business with a man that insists on destroying your things.”
“Fucking hell, Dick,” Hood curses roundly, “Why the fuck—you can’t—stop trying to save me!”
The last one comes out as a shout, and far too loud. Grayson’s pressed his lips in a thin line, Hood’s eyes are flickering, and the silence is heavy and tense.
Both of them flick a glance towards Slade. “Don’t stop on my account,” he says mildly, “This is the most entertainment I’ve gotten all month.”
“Can we get a moment?” Hood asks, on the verge of rudeness.
“You paid for a visit,” Slade points out, “Not privacy.”
Grayson steps smoothly in front before Hood can retort, and asks quietly, “Can we purchase privacy then?”
Slade flicks a glance at Hood, who’s nearly vibrating in place, and Grayson, tense and desperate, and the way their hands are locked together, firm and tight. He pushes off the wall and heads for the curtain, “Fine.”
“How much?” Hood calls out.
Slade smirks before he lets the curtain close behind him, “You get to find out.”
He ends up waiting outside the cell, absently sharpening a knife, hearing a low murmur too quiet to make out distinct words. At one point, Hood’s voice rises into a tirade about Grayson’s intelligence and common sense, but it’s quickly hushed. It’s close to the half hour when Hood comes stomping out.
“Well?” Hood crosses his arms, “What’s the price?”
Slade arches an eyebrow, “You’re not the one who has to pay.”
For a moment, he thinks Hood’s going to punch him. The younger gladiator squeezes his hands into fists and his glare is vicious enough to set something on fire. “If you hurt him—”
“What, Hood?” Slade cuts him off, “What will you do? You can’t stop me, and Talia won’t stop me, so explain to me how exactly you propose to protect him?” Hood is vibrating in place, a murderous statue. “If you threaten me again, I won’t be so obliging to the next deal you want to make.”
The paleness is from fury and fear both, and Hood keeps his mouth shut as he roughly stomps past Slade. Slade watches him go until his footsteps stop sounding, and then heads back inside.
Grayson is waiting for him, again sitting on the bed, hands crossed in his lap, gaze fixed on Slade. “What is the price?” he asks quietly. Evenly, for all that he’s tense and clearly scared.
“Answer some questions,” Slade says, taking the chair, “Honestly.”
Grayson looks suspicious. “What questions?”
“What did Hood mean when he told you to stop trying to save him?”
Grayson purses his lips but deflates, leaning back, clearly resigned. “It’s not really a secret,” he sighs, “I threw the match.”
It takes a second for Slade to comprehend. “You threw it,” he repeats, “You threw the match.”
Grayson shoots him a half-irritated look, “I wasn’t going to kill Jay.” Something crosses over his face, a flicker of the death that still hangs between them, the dead boy that Slade wants to avenge. “And I—I knew they wouldn’t vote for my death,” Grayson says quietly, “Jay—I couldn’t take that risk.”
On the surface of it, it makes sense—Grayson’s made a name for himself, been pretty and charming at every sponsor that flits his way, there’s no way they’d let him die without extracting their pound of flesh.
“And Sionis?” Slade asks.
At this, Grayson’s face twists. His gaze drops, and Slade doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously, but his hair drifts over the bandages, as if to conceal it. “Sionis—has his preferences.”
“And Talia whores out the gladiators that aren’t doing well.”
Grayson’s expression twists further. “Unless she had reason to doubt his self-restraint,” he says quietly, and Slade can see it. Can see Grayson provoking Sionis until the man lashed out with a wound too egregious to ignore. Lashings, brutality, blood and pain? Fine, when it could all be concealed under shifting silks, and everyone wanted scars on a gladiator.
But a missing eye on one of the Arena’s prettiest warriors? No, even Talia al Ghul, with all her animosity, couldn’t ignore that that was a step too far.
“Regardless of whether or not it worked, you had to know she would kill you for it,” Slade says.
Grayson doesn’t look him in the eye when he responds, “Talia was clear on my eventual fate from the very first day.”
Slade blinks. With that interesting piece of information, Grayson shifts up the bed, until he can lean against the wall, and cracks open his book. He doesn’t say anything else.
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Day 1 and 2 of Comic Fiesta
#comic fiesta#comic fiesta 2023#cosplay#spooky month#Bob velseb#ultraman#lethal company#the amazing digital circus#tadc jax#foxy#fnaf#dark souls#solair#one piece#op blackbeard#slenderman#I had a lot of fun but boi was the mask heavy#definitely going again next year#I’ll be posting my haul + a few pics I left out#also I would have painted my hand but I think I’ll just sweat off the paint
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You entered the wrong house, pretty boy! | Ghostface!Ethan Landry x FEM!Reader
Based on this poll I did, we have this masterpiece
Summary: Ethan made a big mistake by entering your house, a Ghostface fan
Cw: Dub con, P in V sex, unprotected, creampie, he resists at first but then gives in, virgin!Ethan, Ghostface!Ethan, mask kink, riding, mirror sex, recording while having sex, multiple orgasms, excessive cum, overstimulation, spit, knife mentions, rough sex, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), ball play
It was late at night, almost 1 am and you were still awake, sitting on your bed reading a book, when something coming from your living room startled you
"What the?" You said getting up to go investigate, a sandal on your hand, pure instinct
When you reached the place where the noise had come from you saw nothing, just your cat licking her paw
"Callie, you scared me" you whisper yelled at her and she blinked slowly at you "Awe"
You turned around and where met with a masked figure, he tilted his head and pulled out his knife
"Why you up so late?" He asked in a weird voice
"I-I" he started to walk and corned you against a wall, placing the knife against your throat, which made you moan
"What?" He asked genuinely concerned
"Oh what you thought I would be scared?" You said defiantly and he just stood there "Baby, this is having the reaction you least expect" you said squeezing your thighs
He looked down and breathed heavily, where you aroused by this? Where the hell is he?
"Wait, aren't you Britney?" You shook your head "Oh shit, my bad I-"
"What? You were supposed to be in someone else's house?" He nodded, feeling like an idiot "Awwwe, it's okay baby, I'll take good care of you" you said begining to walk into him
"W-wait, hold on, lemme just-" he tripped against your coffee table falling backwards, he tried crawling to the door but you grabbed his foot and began dragging him to your room "Hold on wait! No!"
"Oh you're not going anywhere baby, you entered the wrong house, pretty boy!"
He screamed while you dragged him away into your room, finally inside you ran to close the door and lock it, he backed away from you and you looked at him with hungry eyes
"This has been my fantasy for so long" you licked your lips, scanning him
He was tall, broad even, but you didn't really care about who he was, you just wanted him to fuck you, or you to fuck him
"What is wrong with you?" He asked concerned
"Many things" you said taking your shirt off, boobs falling off freely "Now give me your cock"
He screamed again and you tackled him into the bed, hurrying to lift off his robe so you could free his cock, under it there were pajama pants, so cute, you easily found his mid hard cock, maybe from when he saw your tits
"It's big, I'm gonna have fun with it" you said smacking his dick against your face, he breathed heavily as he saw you play with his cock
You started to suck his dick, it was uncut so you pulled the skin back to suckled his head, he began to moan and grabbed the sheets, bucking his hips up into your mouth, your other hand freed his balls so you could play with them, his breath hitched and he started whining
"Please, please" he said under the mask, you could hear his breath heavy
Your mouth went down to suck his right ball into your mouth, looking up at him while you did so, his head fell back as he finally came all over himself and your face, he came a lot so you just kept pumping him dry for it
"Fuck, stop stop too much, ahh"
You finally released his cock with a pop, licking your lips clean from his cum
"You taste good baby"
You climbed on top of him, removing your pajama shorts and sitting completely naked on top of him, you grinded onto his dick making him whine again, he really liked to do that huh?
"You're a whiney man, you really that desperate?" He nodded
"I'm a virgin" he said lowly and you chuckled
"I can tell" you said to his ear
You grabbed his cock and guided it onto your entrance, sinking down making him hiss and whine, cursing under his breath
"Feels good right?"
He nodded desperately, his hands finding your hips, squeezing so hard he would leave marks
You started bouncing on him, his eyes rolling back behind his head, you bit your lip throwing your head back, your hips moving sexily on top of him, his masked figure was turning you on so much but you were curious of who he was, so taking advantage of him being in pure bliss, you lifted his mask until you took it off entirely, revealing none other than your crush Ethan Landry
"Ethan? I knew you were weird but a killer? And Ghostface? Wow"
"Fuck, don't tell anybody"
"Or what? You gonna kill me? Don't think so" you clenched around him purposely "If you don't kill me, you can fuck me whenever you want"
"I-I, fuck, you feel so good" his eyes rolled back
You kept going faster on him until you felt the familiar tingling of an orgasm, his hand was rubbing your clit while you held onto his thighs so you could roll your hips against him, the tatch of hair at his base rubbing against your clit deliciously
"I'm cumming, gonna cum fuck!" You said orgasming on top of him
He held your hips and thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing as he did so, finally releasing inside you with a loud whine
He fell limp on your bed, his breath erratic as he kept jerking from cumming, he took like 2 minutes to finish cumming
"Wow..." Was all you could say after that
His dick fell off your pussy when he grew soft again, his cum flooding out of you, coating his base and his thighs, running down his ass, his breath hitched when he felt that
"What? You done pretty boy? I thought you could take more than that"
He looked at you, then took a deep breath and sat up, kissing you deeply, his tongue shoving into your mouth, his hand held the back of your neck and while his other grabbed your ass cheek
"I have an idea"
Now in front of your mirror you held your phone up while your chest was against your carpet, your ass jiggling with every thrust Ethan gave you, his hands holding onto your hips, you were recording the whole thing from a beautiful angle that showed hos good he was fucking you, his mask was back on his face, he tilted it as he looked into the mirror, enjoying the view
"Fuck, you like that pretty girl? Like being fucked by a murderer?" You moaned at him "Answer me, bitch!" His voice changer was on as he said that
His left hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back, you moaned from it, eyes rolling back
"Yes I fucking love it, don't stop"
"Good girl"
The skin slapping noises were so loud you thought you would wake up your neighbors, but you couldn't care much because of how good Ethan was making you feel
He reached for his mask and pulled it up until only his mouth was visible, spitting a fat glob onto your ass letting it drip to your pussy, adding extra wetness into his fucking
His cock was hitting your g spot on every move, he was big, uncut and fat, just perfect, and he knew how to use it
"Fuck I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming!" You said drooling at the mouth as your second orgasm barreled in
"Good girl baby, fucking cum all over my cock"
With a few sloppy thrusts he finally came again, coating your insides with his warm cum for a second time that night, he massaged your ass as he kept rutting softly into you to keep cumming
"All nice and stuffed baby, so good" he said smacking your ass
Turns out it wasn't that big of a mistake to break into your house...
#ethan landry ghostface#ethan landry x you#ghostface!ethan#Ghostface smut#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry smut#ethan landry
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Safety First
(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader
Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it.
Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌
A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.
Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.
Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.
“Hey—“ the deep familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs.
“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action.
The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond.
“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch.
“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“
“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.”
You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.”
“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background.
__________________
Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7.
His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again.
“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response.
Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained.
He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car.
Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you.
The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more.
“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit.
“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.”
He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words.
“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.”
You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling.
“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks.
“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“
Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.”
“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?”
“Understood.” You sniffle once more.
“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand.
__________________
You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”
“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.”
“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame.
“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back.
“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.”
“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears.
As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.
You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was.
Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.
But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace.
Simon was going to teach you to shoot.
______________
That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you.
“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast.
“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”
“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast.
“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug.
__________________
You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life.
Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could.
With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range.
The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this.
As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help.
“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity.
“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.”
“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.”
“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal.
Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms.
Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you.
“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy.
You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were.
“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.”
“But how did you—? Should I even—?”
“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.”
You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.”
“Good. Then let’s get after it.”
He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears.
“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses.
Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.”
“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.”
Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies.
“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.”
His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?”
You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—
“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.”
You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”
“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.” You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier?
“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.”
You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him.
“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward.
It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside.
“Alright, she’s loaded now.”
“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”
“Now you point and shoot.”
“At what?”
“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley.
“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest.
Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track.
“Better?”
“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim.
With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger.
The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…
You’ve miss the target completely.
“S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles.
“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.”
You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level.
“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”
“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly.
“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.”
You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot.
“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.”
You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim.
A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger.
This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.
“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look.
Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down.
“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place.
You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!”
You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.”
And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless.
“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded.
“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around.
“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range.
You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.
“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response.
You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful.
Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon.
Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there.
Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.
“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon.
The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop.
“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs.
Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop.
You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height.
“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need.
His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs.
He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh.
You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.”
His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core.
Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him.
Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure.
His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take.
His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low.
“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?”
You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him.
“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm.
“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan.
“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock.
You nod fervently.
“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside.
You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained.
“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.”
You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss.
“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.”
Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely.
“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.”
His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life.
“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles.
“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure.
“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“
“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.
“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out.
“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.
You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours.
You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive.
“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.”
You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.”
Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“Something like that, love.”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” Riley x reader
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Short: Touch and Starvation
Wednesday Has a Question only you can answer.
Hopefully people still enjoy Bitterly Beautiful as much as I do, I have a lot of ideas (not many people ask for it, but still.) that I want to share and just mind dump, and this is my favorite idea; The Greatest Wednesday Fluff.
It was winter, the cold at set it at Nevermore and it made taking care of the crows a bit harder than expected. (Y/n) placed the feed into their bowl and allowed the animals to carouse in and feed. He took a step back and admired his hands work. (Y/n) wore his Nevermore Uniform bit with a black heavy breasted jacket Issued by the School. Sensing the footsteps approaching he calmly closed the cage and turned around, titling his head slightly in the direction of the footsteps. He could tell they were light footed, heavy boots though, definitely Wednesday.
“Wednesday, I don’t see you outside in the winter much. Enjoying the snow?” He walks over to his girlfriend, gently taking her hands in his, Wednesday was never one for fun or any sense of enjoyment besides her own company. “You could say that, but I came to speak with you on an important matter.” She said. This was concerning, “important matters.” For Wednesday usually were to discuss the investigation or tell (Y/n) something he really didn’t want to hear.
“O-okay?” He said, raising an eyebrow to her request, the two spoke in a more private setting, his Bedroom, sitting next to her, the Boy tilts his head into her direction.
“Alright, so, what’s up?” He asks, and Wednesday grips the bed slightly, building the courage to speak.
“I want to know, how do you see?” She asks, he smugly folds his arms.
“Magic, obviously.” He said, she frowns at him.
“No, no jokes, no half answers, I want the truth (Y/n). Stop using jokes as a mask for it.” She said with the upmost respect that she had for him, (Y/n)’s smug grin quickly faded and he lets out a sigh, he fiddles with his hands for a moment before speaking.
It’s like a, a sonar. Sounds bounce around and I make some things out, detail? That’s not possible, can’t read, write, see color.. it’s, hard.” He explains, Wednesdays brow furrows. “All the times you called me beautiful, were those lies?” She asks, there was a hint of pain in her voice, (Y/n) abruptly turned his head towards her.
“Absolutely not!” He said, “You Are Beautiful..”
“How do you know? I know beauty isn’t just looks, it’s Posture, attitude, grace, things I obviously lack.” Wednesday admits.
“Well you aren’t wrong about that.” He said, she eyes him and he could sense the intensity. He averts his face.
“Look, I love you for you, beauty or not…” he explains, “But… there is one way for me to see you.” He said, she considers her response, Wednesday tilts her head oh so slightly. “How?” She asks, he turns and shows his hand.
“Wednesday… can I… can I touch your face?” He said, Wednesday just stared at him, not knowing how to respond. (Y/n) awkwardly puts his hand down.
“Sorry that was weird huh? I didn’t mean to, it’s just the best way, seeing with my hands and all..” he drones on, Before Wednesday blurts it out.
“Only for a few minutes.” She admits, he turns back, “Only for a few minutes, and if you tell anyone I let you touch my face I will pour melting wax into your ears.” She said, (Y/n) nodded.
“Of course.” He replies, Wednesday takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “begin.” She says, (Y/n) slowly rose his hands up and calmly cups her cheeks, the bristle of skin contact felt so, sudden. His brain could finally scan her soft skin, the gentle brush of her pigtails nearing the tips of his fingers made his skin jump for a moment.
“Such refined cheekbones you have.” He said jokingly, Wednesday wasn’t in the best mood, severely underestimating how uncomfortable this would be, his finger gently and lovingly caressed her cheekbones and his thumb softly brushed against her lower lips. “Your lips, soft.. well I already knew that~” he said with a flirty. His finger tips turn slowly went along her ears to brush up against them, tiny but also supple and soft like most of her. (Y/n)’s thumb gently moved closer to the center of her face as he cutely boops her nose. Wednesday took a shaky breath and she felt his hands move away. Wednesday opens her eyes to him, looking sad.
“Why did you stop?” She said, (Y/n) frowned
“You’re uncomfortable…”
“I’m not—“ she begins but (Y/n) cuts her off, “Wednesday if there’s anything I do know well it’s body language. You’re tensing up, your breathing is erratic.. I don’t want to keep going if it makes you uncomfortable, it’s okay.” He puts his hand on hers, trying to reassure his girlfriend. Wednesday was at a loss for words. He gives her a sad smile, but still one of deep love and compassion.
“I don’t give a damn about how you look, I could care less, but now I can put a face to the woman I plan to spend the rest of my life with”. He gives her a reassuring kiss on her cheek.
“I don’t need to see, I just need to know.. and I know that you love me..” (Y/n) said with confidence, a confidence Wednesday couldn’t hide her smile to.
“You really are a blind fool… well, I suppose I am as well, because I love you too.”
#male reader#netflix#wednesday#wednesday addams x male reader#wednesday x reader#reader insert#wednesday addams x reader#wedensday x you#wednesday fluff#reassurance#relationship growth
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cant forget (one-shot)
jude x exgf
slight angst to fluff
Jude found himself once again stalking her accounts, jealousy admiring his ex having fun with all these friends and all those new guys he didn't know about. She had broken up with him two months ago and no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't get Lila out of his head. The end of their relationship had been unexpected. Too many questions remained unanswered. Did she get enough of him, his fame or his busy schedule? He thought everything was fine, and truly loved the girl. He had even bought the ring showing how much he had been so sure that Lila was the love of his life, his endgame. His teammates didn't recognize him anymore, they were expecting him to get back to one night stands and parties instantly but obviously that didn't happen. Jude preferred laying awake at night, sulking and thinking about her.
What he didn't know was that she was doing the same. Stalking his account, seeing all the matches he won, the goals he made. All Lila could do was wish that maybe one day she would be back in the stands cheering his name. All those stories she posted were just a mask. The girl didn't want him to think she regretted ending things, but fuck she did, so much. Lila broke up with him suddenly just because she felt like his career was more important than her in his eyes. She now felt so stupid, looking back at the memories and realizing he loved her even more than he loved football.
The girl was not going to do anything about it, sure that by now he hated her, but one night of heavy drinking with her friends changed that. Standing alone outside of the bar, Lila truly felt like shit. All of her girls had left her, busy talking with men. They had encouraged her to do the same but shel couldn't bring herself to even look at another guy after Jude. He was all she thought about, all the damn time and even today when the time came to call for a ride. Her thumb "accidentally" pressed his contact name, and there she was waiting for a boy, who clearly didn't want anything to do with his ex. Not even a minute after, she freezed hearing the man's voice coming out of her cell phone.
"Lila?"
"Sorry, I shouldn't have called.. Bye"
Hearing the girl stumbling over her words, Jude got worried.
"Are you okay? Where are you?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm at a bar"
"Send me the address, I'll be there quickly"
"You really don't have to Jude."
"Just send me the damn address"
She did and waited outside, shivering from the cold and the stress of meeting the boy yet again. She didn't know how she could face him. She mentally thanked the alcohol in her system for making her feel more confident. When she saw a black car that she recognized parking in front of her, she took a big breath before walking towards it. The few drinks she had taken could still not prepare her for the feelings she experienced looking into the man's eyes after so long. She didn't say anything while she got into the car and tried to ignore Jude's burning stare.
"You're not even gonna talk to me?" The footballer said, looking disappointed
"I already said I was sorry, didn't mean to call you"
"You're not gonna ask me how I am?"
Lila looked at him with a confused expression.
"Forget it Lila"
"How have you been Jude?"
He looked away from the road for a split second, smiling at the girl.
"Not that great to be honest, I miss you like a lot"
The statement, coming as quite a shock for Lila, sobered her up directly. She had expected him to ignore her or yell at her at most but certainly not talk to her with this look in his eyes. The same look he gave her all throughout their relationship, full of love and admiration. How could he possibly look at her the same after she had broken up with him? This simple look gave her all the confidence she needed to win him back and to show him how much he actually meant to her.
‘’I missed you too Jude, so much’’
‘’How come you ended things then?’’
‘’I thought that i was a burden to you and your career’’ she responded shamefully
‘’A burden, seriously? Don't you understand that I would have done everything to keep you with me, Lila. You were everything I needed, and you still are. Fuck, i could quit football for you. How can you say you were a burden when all you did was shower me with love.’’
‘’It's just that , I don't know, I felt like I was too much. You were always at practice or some place else for matches, i just thought that you loved all of it too much to make place for me in your heart’’
‘’ No offense, love but that's a stupid way of thinking. Yeah, I love football and it consumes a lot of my time but I fucking love you too. Don't you think that every morning when I had training, I wasn't wishing to be able to stay in bed with you? My schedule bothered the both of us but it was a problem we could easily fix.’’
‘’I know, I realized it now. And I just want us to be together again, you know? I can't stand being away from you.’’
By the time the two had finished talking, they were in front of Jude’s house. The boy parked his car and turned his body to face her. The girl swore she had never seen him look so happy.
‘’I was just waiting for you to say that, honestly.’’
They smiled at each other as Jude put his hand on her cheeck , pulling her into him. He slowly kissed her, wanting to enjoy the contact he was denied for so long. Lila was feeling impatient though, hurrying the kiss and parting her lips allowing his tongue to slip between them. They made out for what seemed like hours in his car before parting away. Still looking deeply into her eyes, Jude unbuckled himself before doing the same to the girl.
‘’Can i come in?’’
‘’You think I'll let you get away from me now? Of course, you're coming home with me.’’
Lila smiled at the word home, thinking that no matter where she was now, she just had to be with Jude to be home.
#football#football imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude x reader#football x reader#jude bellingham x reader#jb5#hey jude :)
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hihi!! i put in the last Leo request and it was just soo good I had to ask for another one, if that’s alright with you?! i’m just thinking about domestic, lazy mornings with him!! maybe with a daughter of poseidon?? anyways, you’re amazing and hope you’re having an amazing day ☺️☺️
❝ Morning-routine HC ❞
Pairing; Leo Valdez X Fem!reader (Poseiden's Daughter)
Warning; Idk, fluff, curse words!!!
I'm doing headcanons this time, because I'm not bothered to write an actual fanfic. Sorry
A/N; I am so sorry for taking so long man😭
So, you woke up in your cabin, and your gorgeous boyfriend, Mr Leo Valdez, was lying next to you, snuggled into your waist
Percy had most likely gone off to sleep in Annabeth's cabin or have a sleepover in Jason's, but either way—whole cabin to yourself and your lover.
Fuck yeah!
Once Leo would wake up—he'd immediately make a joke about 'what a fun night~' (you didn't do anything)
you'd giggle and laugh
It's all fun and games until you notice a Hickey on the back of his neck, but you stay silent
It would take like 17 minutes for Leo to actually get up and start the day
like he wakes up early, but he needs to process the trauma of waking up
just give him a minute, he'll get there eventually
once he's wide awake—he's assaulting you with kisses<33
like bro is not fucking around with kisses!!!
there either light and soft or hard and passionate
Literally no inbetween
once you both get up for the day, he starts making breakfast
You cannot change my mind—he's a great chef
he'll whip up some waffles (he made them blue and left out some for Percy when he comes back 💕)
he's really goofy in the morning
He's an early bird and a night owl tbh (depends on the day)
HES A HEAVY SLEEPER
my man could sleep through world war 2 tbh
You once had to splash him with water to wake him up
To wake you up however, he made music with his tools
By music I mean aggressively tapping his screwdrivers together in a catchy beat 😭
If you do skincare in the morning, he so joins you.
He'd put on a face mask like you💕
He does that weird thing with the ChapStick where guys hold it wrong. 💀
Man has a slutty waist, and I'll be damned if I don't grab it.
lots of cuddles and kisses in the mornings
after breakfast he has caffeine and suddenly the energetic Leo we all know replaces the sleepy and clingy boy you just saw
His hands. Intertwined with yours? UGHH 🤍🤍
(Let's be real, he has a matching pj set with you)
he buys/makes a lot of plushies for you, so your he'd is filled with them
he gave you a hello Kitty plush (the Hawaii addition plush!!!), you affectionately named it Dora, once and he claims ‘its our child!!!’.
It's the one below<33
When your out on a quest, he steals Dora and she stays in his room until you come back to him, bless his heart🫶🏼
He always makes your coffee JUST how you like it. if you don't like it or if he made it wrong, he'll take your coffee for himself and make you another
he's not wasting coffee guys
🤍🤍🤍
He's such a perfect boyfriend
#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez fanfic#leo valdez x y/n#hoo#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#percabeth#annabeth chase#jason grace#leo valdez fanart#leo valdez x oc#Leo Valdez
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Howdy ho! I'm very excited to finally be able to share this illustration I worked on as part of this year's @bumblebybigbang for @tahnex's lovely and super fun fic (with no pain attached whatsoever), "Of Dragons and Panthers," which you can read here! As soon as I read the original notes on it this scene captured me so much I had to do something dramatic for it. It's been such a pleasure watching the whole collab come together, tysm for having me!
First time joining an event like this, and I'd love to again if the opportunity comes around hehe. Still a few postings to go on this one, the pieces before us this year have knocked it out of the park and I'm super excited to see the rest once they come around!
Made a few process cuts just for fun, which I left under the cut!
I did do a few sketches roughly before I started out, especially based on other parts of the chapter, but this particular composition was so fixed in my mind that I ended up just sticking with it. In retrospect, I would've loved to go back and do some more thorough exploration for it. Here are a few of the sketches I managed to fish back up:
I also was thinking of trying a few other doodles/another big piece, but ended up not really having the time between other obligations :')
And the sketch I finally settled on:
Inking was SUCH a fun process on this piece in particular. I'm a huge fan of how dragon!Yang's mane turned out, especially, and all the detailing on the head and around Blake's fur and such. Feel like I'm really satisfied w the particular way the line weight variations came out, and it's where the piece shines the most imo.
Panther!Blake, too. Oh gosh. I feel like it took me a lot of reworking to get her structure to a point where she felt very leopard-like, rather than any other type of big cat- especially around the head.
Colours were such a challenging part. There was a big feeling I had for that glow coming off dragon!Yang in the middle of the heavy rain- I love seeing that sort of effect in real life so that's something I'm really hoping to work to capture better as I practice. Trying to get dragon!Yang's slight iridescence in there and to balance out the lighting on panther!Blake's fur each took a long time, too- I'm only a pinch sad that a good chunk of it is covered by other lighting effects XD
Blake's rosettes were SO fun. Augguhugg.
In terms of backgrounds. HOO boy I was going through a strange patch in life while working on the background and final polish for this piece, which is why (at least I feel like) it looks kinda rushed. I have been practicing natural landscapes and doing some observational studies but still struggling to get those rock shapes quite right, which I think is a big make or break point of something like this. I did really enjoy toying around with inking on the foliage and foreground layers of the ground, though! And in the end, lighting and effects ended up masking a lot of the big weak spots :D
I think natural effects like smoke/steam, and rain, are big things that I got to practice more of in this piece, but also really would like to get better at in future. Esp since I feel like it's been a great opportunity to mess around with different colours and brushes that I use way less, which I'm always grateful for w painting. I think just layering the rain on its own ended up being about 10 odd layers?
I think the only other thing I would have loved to improve is to just help the piece feel more Bumbleby™ in the final look. I think I like the cool colours of the lighting for this particular outcome, but I also would have probably tried to have made things much clearer (ahem at the very least switch to yellow/purple) in the long run in terms of representation and resemblance. Ik that at least for me it is fairly easy to associate the two characters with dragons and panthers since I'm more familiar w the fandom lingo around these two, but esp for outsiders I feel like it's probably not great at conveying who they are, and why they are potentially in this situation.
I'd also love to try and find a shading style that still has a painterly quality but compliments the inking a bit better, rather than overpowering it.
I think that, on the whole, I am pretty satisfied with the piece and had a great time working with Tahnex on the whole collab! And I've also has a fun time reading his work and notes in return, and thank you so much for being so so patient with me even as my updates were slow n rocky at points :'D
That's about all I got, have a great day y'all! Still a few big bang postings to go, so very excited for those once they come around!
#riinkun art stuff#my art#digital art#bumbleby big bang#bbb2023#rwby#YIPPEEEE#very very happy to finally be able to show this off aaaaahugghh!!!!#it's been v cool working on this collab- tysm for having me again! :'D
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𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭. // op. men scenario
➳ character/s featured: monkey d luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji x f! reader
➳ unrequested | scenario // fluff/smut
➳ TW: nsfw, mentions of blood, luffy moments, not proof read
➳ summary: how would the monster trio be with a lover that was a highly skilled shinobi, but could be a charming playful flirt?
➳ AN: sorry if sanji had a lot more stuff, im just a bit of a biased sanji fangirl hehe<3
—MONKEY D. LUFFY ; straw hat luffy !
-ˋˏ ღ listen, this little dummy can be such a fanboy about you whenever someone asks "Y/N went like, woosh! poosh! pow pow! and then they were all on the ground!!"
-ˋˏ ღ he's your own little cheerleader when going into fights, sure he pays attention to his own fights but you know he can't help admiring you
-ˋˏ ღ he understands that you're strong enough and capable of holding your own but the moment he sees you bleeding, it makes something snap inside him
-ˋˏ ღ and his opponent is going to be the one to experience his wrath.
-ˋˏ ღ when you flirt with him, he's a bit... clueless. He can't really understand your advances and it can't really be helped.....
-ˋˏ ღ whenever you say something flirtatious, he just assumes you're being really friendly. (which kinda concerns you)
-ˋˏ ღ Luffy likes testing how fast he can sling his arms, with you trying to outrun it! It's a fun exercise for the both of you to test your limits.
-ˋˏ ღ one day he stole your scarf and stood at the nose of the ship, doing the stereotypical pose people assume ninjas do when they meditate
-ˋˏ ღ when the both of you cuddle, he has his stretchy arms wrapped around you multiple times making sure you can't leave his grip by the rising sun.
-ˋˏ ღ yeah you completely couldn't, luffy was grinning proudly the next day and telling everybody about it
-ˋˏ ღ (he got his head smacked)
< NSFW 3
-ˋˏ ღ shiiiit when he sees your shinobi uniform slightly torn up from a rough fight, your scarf and guard lowered down, heavy breathing with sweat dripping off you..
-ˋˏ ღ he may or may not sling himself towards you and just make out with you, and he doesn't even care if anyone else is gonna see, he just needs you.
-ˋˏ ღ he has completely ripped your tight uniform off you, showing how much hunger and need he has for you..
-ˋˏ ღ he loves it when you lower your mouth cover, your pretty plump lips... you had him hooked.
-ˋˏ ღ you were even bent over, letting him have a pretty view of your god-made body
-ˋˏ ღ you did everything with a bit of.. spice, riling up your pretty boy captain.
—RORONOA ZORO ; pirate hunter zoro !
-ˋˏ ღ both of you being swordsmen, he tends to be a bit... competitive during your duels.
-ˋˏ ღ barely holding back even when you're his lover, leading you to use some of your stealth tricks on him, note that your speed and stealth is the best on the whole ship
-ˋˏ ღ he does respect that you're more on assassinations and infiltrations rather than head-on fighting, he can't help himself on seeing who's better
-ˋˏ ღ you sometimes run your finger tips on his face, having your unmasked face, oh so close to his, as if you were leaning in for a kiss..
-ˋˏ ღ only to pull away, smirking and pulling away from him and putting your mask back on, god he hated and loved your tease
-ˋˏ ღ one time, when he was just minding his business, you appeared behind him without his alert and wrapped your arms around him, resting your hands on his chest
-ˋˏ ღ his breath was caught in his throat and he quickly recognized your semi-gloved hands, this was making him reach his limits
< NSFW 3
-ˋˏ ღ "If I win... you'll have to let me tie you up and overstimulate you to hell."
-ˋˏ ღ ...you ended up winning the duel since his mind was.. wandering a bit to say the least
-ˋˏ ღ listen you tease this swordsman with the way you sway your hips in your tight uniform, showing off your plump ass.
-ˋˏ ღ zoro booty hunter?
-ˋˏ ღ he just had to grab your wrist and dragged you to your quarters, pinned against a wall and him leaning in on your ear.
-ˋˏ ღ "just what the hell are you doing to me.."
-ˋˏ ღ couldn't help but grind his hips on your ass and shove his fingers in your mouth, muffling your moan
— VINSMOKE SANJI ; black leg sanji !
-ˋˏ ღ oh boy... when this blondie saw you without a mask for the first time, it was as if he found the All Blue. He fainted, blood spilling out his nose, heart eyes, hand clutched on his shirt
-ˋˏ ღ my goodness he is such a fanboy of yours, this urged you to try and tease him by hiding for a day, not being detected by him a single time
-ˋˏ ღ ....he ended up crying and worrying you left him so you immediately appeared and comforted your pretty prince, sobbing on your chest as he clutched on your body
-ˋˏ ღ your sweet baby can't help but overthink maybe one day you'll get caught in a midst of a rough battle, even with your undeniably amazing abilities
-ˋˏ ღ you eased his worries, always reassuring him you'll come back, come back to his arms and kiss his lips with an 'i love you'.
-ˋˏ ღ you kinda get off to him always staring and oogling at you, with an obvious pretty pink blush on his cheeks.
-ˋˏ ღ so you used this to your advantage :)))
-ˋˏ ღ doing pretty poses in your uniform, emphasizing your curves, all on display
-ˋˏ ღ you were an absolute goddess to him...
-ˋˏ ღ you loved kissing behind his ear, teasing him. or even kissing the corners of his lips, driving him absolutely crazy.
< NSFW 3
-ˋˏ ღ he can't help but.. worship your body, taking his time to remove articles of your clothes, you do need to eat first with your eyes, yes?
-ˋˏ ღ he loves testing just how loud his pretty shinobi can get with his tongue inside her..
-ˋˏ ღ you're skilled in stealth, but would you be skilled in holding in your pleasured and desperate whines and moans?
-ˋˏ ღ this man is just skilled enough to make one of the best shinobis in the waters melt in his arms.. and he was addicted to it.
-ˋˏ ღ he once tried out a vibrator on you, one that had a remote and could be controlled wireless.
-ˋˏ ღ ..he had you down on the floor, hand between your legs, shaking and biting your lip, just about to snap from all the pleasure.
-ˋˏ ღ you're not the almighty and confident now are you ey?
copyright © 2021 | frieschan
reblog or like if you enjoyed!
#: ̗̀➛mommy fries writing#: ̗̀➛beige basement writes#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#monkey d luffy x reader#luffy x reader#op x reader#one piece x reader#x reader#x y/n#zoro smut#luffy smut#sanji smut#zoro fluff#luffy fluff#sanji fluff#one piece headcanons#sanji headcanons#zoro headcanons#luffy headcanons#x you#one piece x you
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LOGAN HOWLETT - BONDING MOMENT
A/N: Here I am, once again, with another chapter. Chapter 8, my friends, is here and it is still sweet. I will not spoil anything, just read and enjoy.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: explicit thoughts?
Summary: The students get to know Y/N a little more.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.
Words: 3700+
Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Seven
LOGAN HOWLETT - BONDING MOMENT
Nothing interesting had happened since that night at the bar. Logan helped Y/N get back to the school and to her room. He laughed at her silliness, which caught him by surprise. Logan wasn’t the guy to laugh around. He was usually stoic and grumpy. But there were some lingering touches here and there. And yet, their bodies were like two opposite magnetic poles, pushing away. The moment she closed the door, he sighed - relieved he didn’t do anything stupid but also sad that the night was officially over.
The days went by. Logan and Bobby joined the Professor in Washington for another conference. The President wanted to meet Charles during a banquet. They were gone for a few days. Jean and Scott were still away with Remy and Hank. The school got quieter when some students went home for the weekend. There were only some kids that had a supportive system back home. Many of them were alone in this cruel world.
On Sunday, the day before Y/N became a teacher, she and JJ were sitting outside on a bench near the pond. She took him out to spend some time with him. He snuggled closer to her side. The weather got colder. Heavy clouds appeared in the sky. Halloween was approaching, and the students were excited about the celebration.
“It’s going to be so much fun,” Jerome said with a wide smile. “I’ve heard you have to make your own mask. It’s a contest, you know?” he was ecstatic. “Everyone does it. The best masks will get some rewards. It’s mostly candy. That counts as a prize.”
“Wow,” Y/N said with a chuckle. She was glad that the boy was happy at the school. “Have you been thinking about what you want to become? Or would you like some suggestions?”
He shook his head. “No, I think I know what I want to be. I’m not telling you. It will be a surprise.”
“A surprise, you say? Alright, don’t tell me anything. I want to see what you will make,” she patted his head. “Otherwise, are you happy here? Do you have everything? Do you need anything?”
He thought about it for a second. “I have everything. They gave me clothes and school supplies. Jean told me to ask for anything. But I can always come to you, right?”
“You can always come to me, Storm, Kitty, or Logan,” she said. “You can even see the Professor and talk to him. He’s the one who created this school. He’s a good man.”
JJ nodded. “Listen,” he turned his head to look at her face. “A few nights ago, I think I heard you giggle in the hallways in the middle of the night.”
Y/N blinked, and she bit the inside of her lip. “Yeah,” she nodded and cleared her throat. “I went out with some of the teachers. We had a lot of fun that night.” It was half true. She omitted the part where she got drunk.
He poked Y/N into her shoulder. “I’m eleven, I’m not stupid,” he said. “You were with Professor Logan. I heard you talk. Well, you laughed more than you talked.” That was true. Logan walked her back to her room. They talked, she giggled, and then the night was over. “By the way, he’s awesome.”
“Yeah,” she smiled, nodding. “Does Logan teach you something?”
“We have one history lesson a week with him. I like the subject a lot. History is fascinating. Plus, he knows so much about the First and Second World Wars. He gives us so much information and details. As if he was there. He’s strict, and we cannot misbehave, but I enjoy the lesson.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said with a smile. A shiver ran down her spine. The wind got colder. “Let’s head inside and have a cup of tea. I think it’s going to rain. Or Storm is having a bad day, and she changed the weather to fit her mood.”
JJ laughed. He stood up first, grabbed Y/N’s hand and helped her up on feet. He held her by the forearm as they walked inside the school. When she scanned his face again, she noticed the bruises were healed and almost invincible. He looked healthier. It made her heart warm.
As they walked down the hallway, Y/N heard a whimpering sound. It was soft, girl-like. She frowned. Instead of going to the kitchen, she followed the sound. The boy was confused. He opened his mouth to ask where she was going, until he heard it too.
Y/N walked to the lounge room, where she found a young girl sitting on the window still, silently crying. She was JJ’s age. She had curly hair and glasses on her nose. Her skin was light brown.
Carefully, Y/N approached her. She didn’t want to scare her. “Hi,” she used a gentle voice. “Are you alright?” The girl's puffy brown eyes looked up. She shook her head and continued to cry. “Oh, come here, sweet angel,” she said. Her arms spread, and she waited for the girl to accept her hug.
Surprisingly, the girl was immediately hidden in her arms, weeping into Y/N’s leather jacket. Y/N stroked her curly hair lovingly, letting her take her time. JJ took a seat on the couch and silently watched.
“You can talk to me if you want?” Y/N said after another minute. “Did something happen? Has anyone been mean to you?”
The girl's tiny fingers brushed away the hot tears. “My parents haven’t visited me for three months now,” she confessed. That broke Y/N’s heart. “They brought me here, and I never saw them again.” Her voice was low, sad. “They hate me for what I am.”
That statement broke Y/N’s heart. She understood the girl’s pain. Her loved ones gave up on her because she was a mutant. “What’s your name?”
“Nova,” she said. Her arms were tightly wrapped around Y/N’s torso, holding her close.
“Nice to meet you, Nova,” Y/N said with a smile. She rested her head on top of the girl’s. “Tell me, what is your mutation?”
“I, uh,” she hesitated. “I can scream very loudly,” she said. “It can damage your hearing.”
Y/N tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Sonic screaming,” she said out loud. “That is an interesting mutation, Nova. You have powerful vocal cords, and I’ve never met a mutant with this ability.” It wasn’t a lie.
Nova lifted her head and finally looked at Y/N. “You think so?”
“Yes,” she said with a brighter smile than before. “Every mutation is unique, and so is yours. With learning and more information, you will master your ability and know how to properly use it. All you need is time, patience and practice.”
Y/N’s goal was to shift the girl’s attention to something else. It was evident that Nova was agonising over her parents’ neglect. That’s why Y/N wanted to gain her trust, and maybe she’d feel more comfortable around her.
“What is your mutation?” she asked.
“I can create protective forcefields,” Y/N explained. “I am still trying to learn more about my mutation. I’ve heard the term Flyrokinesis, but some call it Flyrogenesis.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes,” Y/N nodded. “Flyrokinesis means you can only control force fields. When you can create them, it’s called Flyrogenesis. I can do both.”
“That’s so cool,” Nova sighed. “You can do so much good with your mutation. I only hurt people,” she said. Nova pushed away from Y/N but remained sitting by her side.
Y/N chuckled a little. “Well, it’s not as it seems. I hurt with my ability, too. It was unintentional, but it happened. That is why we need to practise and learn about our mutations. So we won’t hurt people again. We can use our abilities to do good.”
“My mutation is elasticity,” JJ joined the conversation. He picked the right time. Nova’s eyes turned to him. “The people that fostered me thought it was disgusting,” he said. “Now I think my mutation is unique.”
Y/N’s eyes moved to the boy. This was new information. He had never said anything about his parents before. Now she knew why. He didn’t have parents. He was in foster care. Even there, he wasn’t loved. Y/N wanted to run to him and hide him in a tight, loving hug.
“My parents have sent me here and never came to see me or take me home for the weekend,” said Nova. “I deafened my father in one ear,” she confessed. “He never looked me in the eyes again.” And she started to cry again.
“Nova?” another soft voice said from the entrance to the room. “Are you okay?”
Y/N found three other girls standing at the door, watching them. The oldest girl could be thirteen. All three were different. One of them had cat-like irises. The mutation must have caused it.
“Yeah, I’m just talking to…” she turned to Y/N, not knowing her name.
“My name is Y/N. This is JJ,” she pointed at the only boy in the living room. “Would you like to join us?” she showed at the empty couch.
The girls walked inside and sat together. They introduced themselves, too. Jamie, Olivia and Kyra were friends with Nova. They all shared a room on the second level. At least these girls were the support Nova needed.
Y/N and Nova moved to sit next to JJ. “You are the new professor?” Olivia asked Y/N.
“Oh,” it caught her by surprise. Did the Professor announce it already? “Yes. I’ll be teaching English and Literature starting tomorrow. I got a few classes a week.”
“Really?” JJ’s eyes brightened. “That is so awesome!”
Y/N nudged his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll be teaching you too, you know? We’ll have literature together on Tuesday and English on Thursday.”
“You haven’t been here long, have you?” Olivia asked. Her long blond hair was braided from the top of her head. She had colourful bracelets on her wrists. “I’ve been here for a year and noticed you a couple of times these past few weeks.”
Two teenage boys walked into the lounge room. They stopped in their tracks when they found the place occupied. “Sorry,” one of them said. “We thought we’d be alone here at this hour.” Before he could finish it, another two boys walked in.
Y/N raised a brow. Already ten people in the room. “What time is it?” she asked no one in particular. It took another five minutes, and another six children entered the room.
“You’re the new teach’,” one of the older boys pointed a finger at her. “Cool,” he smirked.
“I guess the word is spreading faster than you know,” Y/N mumbled under her nose.
“No, she’s the one who saved Jerome,” a girl said as she sat in an armchair. She was at least fifteen years old.
“I guess you have a reputation, Y/N,” JJ laughed when the kids around them started to talk about Y/N as if she was not there.
The woman raised her hands into the air to stop the debate. “If you want to know more, you need to ask the source - that’s me. Please, stop discussing me as if I was not here, okay?” One after one, they nodded their head. “Great. Let’s start again. My name is Y/N. Do you have any questions?”
“What is your mutation?”
“Is it true you will be our new teacher?”
“Did you throw Professor Summers out of the window a few days ago?”
That last question made her laugh. Obviously, they knew something happened. This was the perfect opportunity to talk to the students and know them better. She lived there for some time now. It would be nice to be part of their lives, be there for them. As she kept looking at it, she realised all these children stayed at school for the weekend. Some of the faces were familiar to her. They never left the school the whole time she lived there.
They all had one thing in common - their families gave up on them the moment they discovered how different their children were.
A frown appeared on her face. “Do you ever go home?” she asked gently. She wanted to know how many of them still had their parents.
They all shook their heads. “No,” said one of the oldest boys present. “Some of us have families on the other side of the states. Most of us are here all the time. They gave up on us.”
“I’m so sorry,” Y/N sighed. “I know how it feels to be pushed away from your family. Mine got rid of me, too.”
“Sure,” one of the girls scoffed.
Y/N’s eyes found hers. “They locked me in an insane asylum because I… I killed my own little sister with my mutation,” she admitted out loud. “It was the first time I used the ability. Until that moment, I didn’t know I was a mutant. My mutation is forcefield manipulation. Even though it is a protective ability, I managed to kill my sister with it.”
It was hard to admit it in front of a group of children. Y/N concluded it was better to tell the truth than to lie. What if Scott would open his big dumb mouth, and the kids would fear her? No more lying.
“My parents put me into an insane asylum because of it, and they never came for me. Well, I believe they’d rather see me dead. I escaped the asylum and joined a group of terrible people. My decisions were not the best. I’m not proud of that part of my life.”
“Y/N was locked with me in a lab where they experimented on us,” JJ chimed in. The kids turned their gazes at him. He sounded like a grown man. “She was already there when they brought me in. I helped her escape. Later, Profesor Logan and her came for me and saved my life.”
The silence that surrounded everyone was heavy. Some kids lowered their eyes to the ground, others closed them. They didn’t know what to say or if to say anything at all. The topic was heavy. Some could relate, and others were lucky to not experience anything tragic.
“I get how you all feel,” Y/N said. “I know what it is like when the people you love get rid of you like you’re an old, used toy. I understand you feel betrayal and pain, even anger.” Her hand found Nova’s hand, and she squeezed it reassuringly. “But look where you are now. You all ended up in a school for mutants, where you’ve been given a second chance for a better life. This place is your home. People here care and want the best for you. I dare to say that this is your new family.”
More silence followed. “I know I’m still a stranger to you, and you don’t trust me. That’s okay. Teachers like Storm, Jean or Kitty will be there for you. Please, just know you can talk to me, too. I want to help in any way that I can and know.”
Once Y/N finished talking, Nova wrapped her arms around Y/N’s waist and hugged her tightly. When JJ saw it, he did the same from the other side. The woman wrapped both arms around each child and smiled. The love she felt was immense. Before she knew it, more children approached her. They all huddled together in a big, warm hug. It was a beautiful gesture.
Storm walked around the school, checking on the students. She stepped into the lounge room. Her eyes landed on the scene before her. She had to smile. Storm was lucky enough to witness the group hug.
“What’s going on?” she asked softly.
Slowly, the children moved from the huddle. They went back to their sitting spots again. JJ kept his arms around Y/N while Nova grabbed Y/N’s hand and held it tightly.
“Just bonding,” Y/N said with a smile.
Storm’s lips reflected the smile. “That’s nice. I’m glad you are finding a way to their hearts.”
Later that day, The Professor returned with Logan and Bobby from the banquet. They were back after a few days away, and both men couldn’t be happier about their return. Bobby missed Kitty. They’d been texting here and there throughout the time. Logan didn’t have the guts to call or text Y/N. He rarely used his phone. Also, he thought it would be weird. Charles could feel Logan’s faint anxiety crawling around him. He knew the reasoning behind it. The man’s thoughts weren’t quiet.
They drove to the school, glad this ‘mission’ was over. They didn’t expect to hear loud music roaring from the building. Logan tilted his head to the side, frowning. “Is that coming from the school?” Then they heard singing. It was like a live concert. “What’s going on?”
Logan parked the car in the garage. They helped Charles out of the car and into his wheelchair. The singing got louder. It echoed around the garage. The students were singing a familiar song. Charles smiled and chuckled. When was the last time something like this happened?
All three went from the garage and got to the main level. The song changed. After a brief silence, the singing began again. The students were crammed in the lounge room, dancing around and singing as loud as their voices let them. When some kids noticed the Professor, they made a passageway for him and the other two teachers.
Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He found Storm, Y/N and Kitty in the middle of the room, surrounded by students, jumping and screaming words to the song playing.
If you could see that I’m the one who understands you. Been here all along, so why can’t you see? You belong with me.
It seemed everyone knew the words to that song. All three women swayed their hips to the music, jumping around like all the students. They were happy, enjoying the moment. Y/N grabbed JJ’s hands when she started twisting him around. Her face was bright and cheerful. Even the boy was thrilled.
She wears high heels. I wear sneakers. She’s cheer captain. I’m on the bleachers.
This part was powerful. As if everyone wanted to scream the chorus as loud as possible. No one cared that the headmaster was present. But Charles had a big smile on his face. Yes, they organised events for the students, but this happened out of nowhere. It was special. It was a bonding moment for everyone.
“I love this song!” Bobby shouted, bobbing his head to the song. He started to sing the lyrics.
Storm draped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders while Y/N wrapped an arm around her waist as they sang the song. One of her hands remained on JJ. They laughed at their silliness. Kitty found Bobby walking to her. She got excited and ran into his arms, and they swayed together to the song.
Storm discovered Bobby a few seconds later. She stopped dancing, and her eyes found Charles and Logan. Her arm fell from Y/N’s shoulders, and she made her stop dancing.
Y/N gasped. Her face heated up, and she quickly turned around to turn off the music. She had a remote control to the stereo. When the song was abruptly stopped, the students whined. It was evident they were displeased by the interruption.
“Professor,” Storm said his name nervously. “I’m sorry for this. We got carried away.”
Charles laughed. “Oh, Storm, no need to apologise. I like that you all have so much fun on a Sunday afternoon. You should continue to have more fun.”
Y/N was breathing heavily. Her chest was rising and falling visibly. It was quite a cardio. Her eyes met Logan’s, who had a grin on his face. He leaned against the nearest wall, crossed his arms over his chest and kept staring. When he licked his lips, Y/N’s eyes followed his every movement.
“Well, the magic of the moment is kind of gone,” Y/N said. “But we had good two hours of this fun, right?” she turned to see the kids. They shouted affirmations. Some of them whistled.
“Okay, everyone, it’s time for us to end this session,” Storm raised her voice so everyone could hear her. “Thank you for being here and having fun. It’s time to get to your rooms and prepare for tomorrow.”
Logan watched as Y/N hugged a few younger kids. First, it was JJ, which wasn’t surprising. Then, it was two other girls. That sight made his insides tingle. He felt love radiating out of her. It made him smile. When they separated, Y/N’s eyes were back on him.
He took a few steps forward while greeting some of the kids. “Are you trying to bribe them to like you?” he mocked her.
“Are you jealous I’m giving my attention to them and not you?” she poked his bicep when Logan was close enough. “Or should I bribe you too?”
“I’m not that easy, princess.”
“What if I tell you I sneaked in some beer?” she raised her brows.
He was impressed. “You got me. Wait, you want to get drunk again?” he asked. “I won’t be taking care of your ass next time.”
Y/N squinted. Her body was ready to jump at him. Not because she was angry at him. She wanted to kiss that smug smile off his face. Last night, she imagined what his hands would feel on her body, how he would taste and feel. She pictured his hands exploring her naked body, his lips between her legs.
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself,” she said. There was a teasing smile on her face. She walked past him and found JJ talking to one boy. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
Logan watched her leave the lounge room with the boy. His mind was spinning. His eyes lowered and remained on her ass, watching it move with each step she took.
A hand tapped his shoulder. Bobby grinned at Logan. “You got it bad, my friend.”
“Shut up.”
#Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x female reader#Wolverine#Logan Howlett#Wolverine x reader#Wolverine x female reader#Marvel fanfiction#X-men fanfiction#Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
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Mask On
Synopsis: Chan in a mask. That's it.
Content: dom!Chan x fem!reader, mask kink, mentions of anonymous sex, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex (I STG WEAR CONDOMS), reverse cowgirl, pwp.
Word Count: 1.0 k
Author's Notes: Okay so I have a huge mask kink that I will never admit to (except rn Ig?) and SEEING CHAN IN A MASK IN THE TEASER 🗣🗣🗣 I finally got to write around to writing this short fic since I finished that Jeongin fics tee hee. also that angsty fic i'm writing is going to come out after i calm down from losing a lot of my work that i did on it 💀. enjoy !! <3
Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki,@imtoooyoungforthisshit, @jihanlovic
Chris panted for breath beneath the black fabric. Condensation had built against his face and it had become a battle trying to gulp down air. The soaked cloth clung to his skin and, though he was otherwise completely naked, the mask made him feel like he was suffocating. Nevertheless, it remained on. He didn't dare take it off; not when he knew how it made you think, not when he knew how much you liked it.
"Fucking ride it, y/n," he groaned out in a low voice, holding your hips as he watched your ass bounce on his cock. "You t-take it so well, baby."
"Only for Daddy," you whimpered, "only take Daddy's cock like this." You were pained that you couldn't see his face right now with your back to him. However, even if you turned around, you knew that you couldn't see anything but his dark eyes as the rest was obstructed by his black mask. But that was what you wanted to see: the obstructed face of a masked man attached to the chiselled body of your boyfriend, slicked in sweat.
You didn't know exactly why you liked men in masks. Maybe all that shit on Tik Tok about fucking boys in Ghostface masks from Scream, Mandalorian helmets from Star Wars, or in the mask Ghost wire in COD had permeated your subconscious and brainwashed you. Maybe it was because masks gave Chan a sense of anonymity, like you were just fucking a stranger for fun who couldn't care less about you. Or, possibly, it created a separation in intimacy and granted Chris greater authority over you, like he was a faceless God who you could not read and, in turn, had no power over. Or, most likely, you just liked to fuck the faceless body of your boyfriend and use him as your own personal dildo. Either way, the mask always managed to change Chris just as much as it aroused you. It made him cool and collected and, consequently, made you seem even more desperate and needy.
There was just something about masks that did it for you and you couldn't ever figure it out. To be fair, you didn't really need to know why that mask made you want to be fucked until you passed out. You just know that you like Chris and that you like masks, so it didn't take a mathematician to figure out that you liked to fuck Chris in a mask. Plus, the situation became even more intoxicating when he let you call him Daddy when wearing a mask while he sinks his fat cock into you and makes you cum multiple times.
What could you say? You had the best boyfriend.
"Take Daddy's cock, baby," he whispered cooly, voice muffled from the moist material and heavy breathing. "Work for it. Make me cum into the perfect pussy of my pretty girl." His sweet words were quickly contrasted by a particularly harsh smack to your ass, leaving a red handprint on the squishy flesh. To please the man below you, you bounced harder on his length, your thighs burning from the act. Chan—even in this state of utter bliss and dominance—noticed and tightened his grip on your hips, guiding you up and down his heavy cock and forcing you to the hilt with every stroke.
"D-don't slow down," he growled, "Don't you dare fucking stop." His words made you whimper, dying to slow down despite the impertinent need to continue until you came at least thrice more and were filled with his cum.
"Chris, it's too much, I—fuck!"
Noticing your slowing pace, Chris began upwardly thrusting into you, fucking his cock up into your cunt and making you hum with each bounce. His hands dug into the flesh of your hips to ground himself, occasionally separating from you just so he could lay another slap on your ass before resuming his harsh hold on you with added gusto. With each thrust, he was practically lifting you up and pulling you down onto his cock, not daring to let up the pace. As his tip began to kiss your cervix and leak precum, you arched your back and fell forward, leveraging your hips to bounce eagerly and meet his thrusts halfway.
Despite your exhaustion, you dared not stop; you felt too good to allow your exertion to consume you. With your next orgasm fast approaching, your cunt tightened around Chan's cock and hugged it, urging him to finish inside and fill you up. Chris, however, gave no indication that he was approaching his climax. This is what the mask did to him: it stripped him of all weakness and made him edgier, with no mercy as his domineering side consumed him. He became a dom in a way you had never experienced when he was completely naked. It was as if the mask allowed him a separation from you, as if it made him more primal and allowed him to hide his (usually humiliating) level of neediness for you. While it allowed him to conceal his carnality, it only exacerbated your embarrassing desperation for him.
Since the mask was only for special occasions, you knew that you needed to get your fill of this Chan. You were determined to finish in this position just so you could turn around and continue face-to-face with him, allowing his cold gaze to lock eyes with you as you feebly rode his dick. Yet, while you would fall apart on him, Chris would just study you riding him, as if his eyes were saying all that needed to be told.
Maybe that was why you liked masks so much: just as much as the mask itself turned you on, what really made it complete was what it did to Chan.
"Ride it harder, y/n," he growled through the sweat and slobber-soaked fabric. "Maybe, if you fuck me right, I might just let you see my face when I fuck my cum into you when you're too exhausted to keep going."
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Hi!! Can you write an Elvis x reader smut where they meet after one of his performances while he's still supporting Hank Snow and he takes her back to his hotel where he finds out she's a virgin. At first he tries to stop everything, not wanting to pressure her into anything but she reassures him that it's what she wants and he's really sweet and making sure that she's okay the whole time? Sorry it's so long!
Sorry this took me so long! I had a lot of fun writing this! Thank you for asking for it 😁. I hope it's everything you wanted it to be!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, f/m p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, cussing, unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, small mention of blood
A/N: you can go with Austin!Elvis or Real!Elvis, it's totally up to you, as long as you like him Sweet!Elvis.
Anywhere We Want
Wow. You'd heard that Elvis Presley was an impressive performer, but you never dreamed watching him would make you feel this way, with this heavy, twisty feeling in your stomach and your heart beating so intensely. Something about him just made you feel things you've never felt before. It occurs to you that you're the last of your friends to be a virgin. You've kissed boys, but never anything more. Now this man dances on stage and the place between your legs is reacting in the strangest ways. Everything feels warm and slippery. Still, you do your best to ignore all of these new sensations and follow your friends to the carnival before your mom's favorite singer, Hank Snow, takes the stage.
"Y/n let's ride the Ferris wheel!"
"No, let's play games!"
"Actually I'm hungry."
Your friends are busy trying to figure out what to do next when you spot Elvis. He's standing in a dark corner alone, leaning against a wall, watching the carnival happen around him. He looks kind of lonely and sad. You wonder if he has anyone in his life that doesn't fawn over him constantly, anyone who truly knows him as a person and not a performer.
"Y'all go on ahead. I'll catch up. I just need to find a bathroom." You say to your friends as you turn your back to them and walk away. You don't walk directly towards him because you don't want them to follow you. Instead, you go a roundabout way and manage to come up on his dark corner from a different side.
"Are you okay?"
He jumps a little and puts his hand on his heart.
"Geez, darlin' you scared me. I must've been lost in thought." You watch him rearrange his face to be the mask of a performer. "You want an autograph or something?" His smile is distractingly attractive and you almost just say "yes" and walk away. But something inside you pushes you to ask again.
"Nah, I don't need anything. Are you sure you're okay?" You tilt your head slightly and look him in the eyes.
"Oh yeah, I'm great, kid." He smiles again, a little less brightly this time. Then, he looks at his shoes for a bit before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours.
"Actually, I don't know why I said that. I'm not great. I'm tired." You nod your head reassuringly.
"I bet you are. Everyone wanting you to be on all the time probably gets really old." He relaxes his shoulders and his eyes soften a little bit.
"That's exactly it. I have to be on all the time. Everyone wants Elvis Presley. No one wants me." Your heart breaks for him a little bit. There's something tragic about this man that everyone loves feeling so unloved.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know your name. You must've really caught me off guard." He laughs a little bit and his smile is more natural than you've seen it so far.
"I'm y/n. And people always tell me I'm easy to talk to. I guess it's true." You shrug and give him a small smile.
"Yeah, it is true. Thank you for listening, y/n." He puts his hands in his pockets and looks out at the carnival.
"You wanna get outta here?" It's a cheesy line, but something makes you think he just wants an excuse to escape. You're happy to be his excuse.
"Sure. Where should we go?"
"Somewhere quiet, where we can keep talking. I like talking to you. That okay with you, honey?" You get goosebumps all over when he calls you honey. You hope he never calls you by your actual name. He puts his hand out for you to hold.
"If we hurry, we might get out unnoticed." You grab his hand and he takes you around to the back side of the carnival to a parking lot of sorts. He walks to the passenger side of a yellow Cadillac. You have a brief moment of panic as you realize you're about to get in the car with a stranger. He notices your apprehension.
"We don't have to go anywhere if you don't want to. I know you don't know me from Adam." You can't explain why, but you trust him.
"No, I'm okay. We can go." He raises his eyebrows as if to ask if you're sure.
"Really. I trust you."
He opens the passenger door for you and you slide into the front seat. Everything he does makes your heart beat faster and you feel hot all over. What is it about him that is making you act so crazy? He positions himself behind the steering wheel and starts the engine. When he turns around to back out, he puts his arm on the seat behind you, inadvertently putting his arm around you. You feel yourself blush, but you look away to keep him from noticing.
"So you know my dark and lonely secret. Tell me something about you that no one else knows." He puts his arm back down so that he can shift gears, brushing your shoulder on the way down. You shiver a little and rack your brain for something to share with him.
"I'm afraid I'll never get out of this town. I want to go places and do things and be a person before I settle down. I'm afraid I'll just marry someone here soon and never get to be a person." You've never said that out loud before. You've always just assumed your dreams would die unspoken on your wedding day, like your mother's did. But now that you've said it, you feel the fear and the desire and the drive to be something more all at once.
"Why not both?" His voice pulls you out of your fantasy. "Just because you get married doesn't mean you have to settle down. You could be a wife and a person at the same time." You've never thought of it like that before.
"I can't marry anyone from this town then." You laugh. No one ever leaves this place.
He parks the car and looks at you. His smile is warm, almost affectionate.
"We're here". You look out the car window and realize you're at a motel. Your stomach does a flip flop, but you try to play it cool. He asks,
"Is this okay? It's the only place that's quiet and away from everything." You nod your head.
"Yeah, of course." He opens the car door for you again and the next thing you know, he's opening the door to his room. The walk here was surreal as you wondered how you got yourself in this position. You're about to be in a hotel room alone with Elvis Presley.
"It's not much, but it's home. For tonight at least." He chuckles, obviously trying to make you feel more comfortable. The room is simple, with a single bed and a couple of lamps. He sits down on the bed and pats a spot on the quilt next to him.
"You can sit down. I ain't gonna hurt ya." He's so endearing that you can't help but believe him. You sit next to him, close enough to be friendly, but far enough to make sure he can't get to you too easily, just in case.
"I think if you want to get out of this town bad enough, you will. And even if you do find a husband along the way, I think you'll still be your own person. I'll punch him in the mouth if he tries to stop you." There's that wide natural smile again that makes your legs feel like jelly. You decide in that moment that you'll let him kiss you if he tries.
"And I think you can be Elvis Presley to the world and still find people to love you for who you are."
"Sitting here with you, I believe it." You see him glance at your lips a couple of times and your heart flutters in your chest.
"Y/n, can I ask you somethin'?"
"Anything."
"Can I kiss you?" He's already leaning in as he asks, but you don't care. You whisper "yes" just as his lips reach yours. It's like fireworks are going off inside you. There's electricity shooting all over your body, but it seems to be gathering in the place between your legs. His kiss starts softly, and he kisses you a few times with his mouth closed before he parts your lips with his and dips his tongue into your mouth. You match his motions and let your tongue move around his. Sure, you've kissed boys before, but it's never felt like this. Your whole body seems to ache with wanting him to touch you more. Seemingly reading your mind, he puts his hand on your neck with his thumb on your cheek. His other hand rests on your knee. You want both of his hands on your body, touching the places no one has ever touched before. You scoot your body closer to him and put your arms around his neck as he moves his hands to your waist and your back. Now you're pressed up against him as he holds you close, still kissing you passionately. Slowly, he lays you back on the bed until he's on top of you. Your hands start shaking a little. You know what's supposed to come next, but you've never done it before. His hand makes its way to the zipper on the back of your dress. As he starts to pull on it, he notices you're trembling. He pulls back from kissing you and watches you carefully.
"Honey, have you never...?" He trails off when he sees the slight fear in your face. He sits up suddenly.
"No. We're not doing this if it's your first time. I can't take that from you."
"You can't take something that's being given." He looks back at you as you lay on the bed.
"I really don't want to be that guy."
"What guy?"
"The guy that hurts you."
You think for a second while he sits with his head in his hands. Finally, you sit up next to him and put your hand on his thigh.
"Remember how I told you that I want to live my own life?" He looks up at you.
"This is part of that. I'm choosing you, here, now."
"And you're sure you won't regret it?"
"Regret making my own decisions for myself? Never."
He puts his hand on the back of your neck and looks into your eyes.
"I've never met anyone like you before." You barely get out "I should hope not." Before he's kissing you again. You're not trembling anymore. Instead, this time you put your arms around him and pull him down on top of you. His hand goes back to where it was on your zipper and he pulls back from kissing you.
"You're sure? Because once this dress comes off, I won't be able to resist you." He smiles playfully. You kiss the end of his nose.
"I'm sure. Take it off." He pulls the zipper down and gently removes your dress. He looks at you laying there in your bra and panties waiting for him.
"Damn, baby."
He takes your bra off easily and moves his hands all over your body, kissing you gently as he goes. His hands are so big and warm and his kisses are light and playful. It's the perfect combination to light a fire inside you. He stands up and takes his shirt off. You know he'll need his pants off, so you go to unbutton them, but he stops you.
"Not yet, honey." You're puzzled by this because what else could he possibly have planned? He lays you back down on the bed, kissing just below your belly button. Then, he takes your panties off and drops them on the floor. He positions himself between your legs and you're still confused about what he's wanting to do. You've talked to your girlfriends about what it's like before and none of them have mentioned this. He slowly spreads your legs further apart. Then, he slides one finger inside of you. You gasp and arch your back at the sensation of something inside you. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt. It feels good. Really good. Just when you get used to that sensation, he starts moving his finger in and out and in again. You bite your lip to keep quiet.
"There's no one here but us, baby. You don't have to be quiet." You let a small moan escape your lips. Then, he does something you never expected. He puts his mouth on you. He moves his tongue rhythmically around and over you and it feels like you might die with how good it is. Still, you can feel something else building and you brace yourself for what might be coming. Your heart beats faster and your stomach gets that twisty feeling again. Then, you go over the edge and it feels like falling and flying and crashing and singing all at once. You're shocked at the sounds that come out of you as you ride this new high. Your body shudders and pulses and you can't decide whether you should laugh or cry. Instead, you just lay there breathing heavily. He moves his mouth back off of you and slides his finger out.
"How was that?" He asks, wiping his mouth with his hand. You mumble something unintelligible and he laughs.
"Good. That's how I know I did it right." You nod your head vigorously and pull his body close to yours. You need more of that feeling, more of him inside you. Now, he stands up and lets his pants fall to the floor. He climbs back on top of you and kisses your neck.
"This part might hurt a little bit. If you want me to stop, I will. Just let me know if it's too much." You nod again, still not fully confident that you can speak. He uses his hand to line himself up with your entrance and looks back up at you.
He slowly pushes the tip of himself into you. He watches you carefully as he continues to push into you slowly. It starts to sting a little bit as he hits some resistance inside you. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from building up. It hurts, but not so bad that you can't stand it. He's watching your face carefully and as soon as he senses that you're in pain, he stops pushing.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No. Don't stop. It just hurts a little."
"See, this is what I meant. I don't want to hurt you." He starts to pull out slowly, but you grab his face with both hands.
"Elvis. Don't stop. I want this. I want you." Something about what you said is exactly what he needs to hear. He kisses your cheek and goes back to pushing into you. After a few more seconds, he pushes himself into you fully and lets out a moan.
"Oh fuck, y/n. You feel so good. Do you think you're ready?" He kisses your neck and shoulder while you prepare yourself for the pain.
"I'm ready." He pulls out and slowly pushes into you again. To your utter shock, it no longer hurts. It feels good. Really good. Again. You moan, this time with pleasure instead of pain. He pumps out and in again and again and you feel like you might explode with how good it feels. You wrap your legs around him and he grunts quietly at the change in sensation. He seems to be enjoying this as much as you are. He's kissing your neck and your jawline and your cheek and your lips, all while he continues his rhythm.
After a little while, he slows down and puts his forehead on your shoulder, sweat dripping down his face.
"Okay. Now I need to finish. It might feel... different."
"It's okay." You push his hair back off of his sweaty forehead and kiss him on the cheek. He smiles, kisses your lips, and then speeds up his pace again. To your surprise, his faster speed triggers something in you too and you feel yourself approaching another release. Just as you tumble over the edge, he pushes into you hard and you feel yourself fill up with warmth. You both climax together, taking turns cussing and kissing each other. He shudders and finishes pumping a few more times. He lays on top of you for a while with his head on your chest and you put your arms around him. After laying like this for a bit, he lifts his head up and looks at you.
"So, do you feel like a person?" You laugh and run your fingers through his hair.
"That's one experience I can check off, at least."
He rolls off of you and goes to get you a towel from the bathroom. You assess the damage on his sheets. Not too much blood. Just enough to get the maids talking tomorrow. He tosses you a towel and sits down next to you on the bed.
"You should come with me on tour."
"Elvis, I..."
"You said you wanted out of this town. And you said you can't marry someone here. I don't live here. Come with me."
"I did say both of those things." Did he just mention marriage?!
"Okay then. I'll come with you. Where to next?" He smiles that natural smile that you can't resist.
"Anywhere we want."
#elvis fans#austin butler elvis#austin elvis imagine#elvis presley#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley x reader#elvis smut#elvis x reader#elvis presley x y/n#austin elvis x reader#50s elvis#elvisaaronpresley#elvis presely smut#elvis#elvis fanfic#elvis x y/n#austin!elvis fic#austin!elvis x y/n#austin!elvis fanfiction#austin!elvis x reader#austin elvis smut
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much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.
i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.
get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!
still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3
specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill
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“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)
Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.
The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.
> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)
Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.
You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.
He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.
The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.
Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.
After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.
He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?
> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)
Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.
“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.
“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.
“Wanna go to Paradise later?”
“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”
“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.
“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.
Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.
Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.
Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”
The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.
“Hey, you.”
Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.
“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.
“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.
“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?
“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.
Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.
“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”
“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.
“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.
“You know the rules. You call, I come.”
“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.
“Cut that out!”
“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.
“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.
“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”
“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”
Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.
“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.
“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.
“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.
He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.
So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.
Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.
Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.
“Huh?”
“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.
Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.
Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.
When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?
You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.
Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.
“Rennie?!”
Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.
“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.
“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.
She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.
“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.
“Why would you think that?”
“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.
“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”
Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.
“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”
“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.
“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.
“I missed you, you know.”
“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.
“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”
“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.
“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.
“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.
“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”
“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”
“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”
“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.
“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”
She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.
You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day.
He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.
“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.
“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”
“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”
You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”
“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”
He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?
A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”
“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.
“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.
“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.
“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.
“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.
“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.
“Did you–”
“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.
You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.
He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.
You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.
“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.
“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.
“Should we, like, do something?”
“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.
Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.
> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.
Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.
> yeah i got u everything ok?
> thanks a ton! see u next time.
It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.
Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.
#enjoyyyyy#sorry about no smut again but like#we have to get through some PLOT okay#also don't drink and text/call is the lesson from this chapter#trust me it'll make sense#eren x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger series#aot x reader#eren jaeger fanfic#much ado about nothing#much ado universe
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Adam gets a good ending because I said so
Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader
Includes: angst, fluff, not a whole lot of dialogue, more plot really. Not written for any gender in particular.
For context, this takes place just after the first saw. The nerve gas house is mentioned, but at this point John hasn't set up any traps in it yet (he's most likely off in Mexico dealing with Cecilia right now).
A/n fun fact: this is actually all 100000% true and Canon, Adam is still alive.
You were a plucky young urban explorer, and you'd caught wind of an abandoned house on the outskirts of the city. It had been boarded and chained up, most likely to keep out squatters and junkies, but also people like you. Well, whoever owned that building would have to try harder than that to keep you and your trusty pair of bolt cutters out. You loved to explore the dead parts of the city, dilapidat buildings and forgotten homes, to see what stories they had to tell, what history they were hiding.
Upon arrival to this house, you parked your van just out of sight around the corner and double checked your rucksack to ensure you all had your supplies. Phone, torch, bolt cutters, energy bar, gatorade and just in case, pepper spray. Satisfied that you had what you needed, you approached the house on foot looking for an entrance. You found a back door, boarded up, but the wood seemed to have succumbed to the elements, leaving it rotten and weak. One hard kick with your steel toe capped boots was all it took to give way. You turned on your torch and began your usual routine. You first headed upstairs, just to give the place a once over from top to bottom, identifying any safety risks before you could explore more in depth. Once you'd reached the ground floor again, you let out a dissapointed sigh. The entire house had been gutted, no furniture, no stories to tell, just empty. You figured you wouldn't be here long. The air was still - no - stale. You cursed yourself for not bringing some sort of mask, you were certainly breathing in years worth of mould, dust and cobwebs. It smelled damp and the stench of rotting wood made you feel as though you were going to retch. Regardless, you soldiered on, in desperate hopes of finding something, anything that would make this expedition worth while. And oh boy, did you find it. It hadn't occurred to you to look directly at the floors before, but something in your gut told you to look down, and to your excitement, you discovered that you were stood over a trapdoor. You wedged your bolt cutters between the floorboards and began to pry, until a satisfying crrreeeeaaaakkk sounded out, signaling that you'd gained access to whatever secrets lay beneath.
You stood, staring down at a short set of stairs, you couldn't see where they lead. It was dark down there, darker than the house, and not just in terms of light. Something about it seemed sinister, as though you were staring at the steps down to hell itself. Against all your better judgement, you began your descent. You made note to keep the trapdoor open, it was heavy to lift, and you were sure it would be even heavier to push back up if you needed to get out in a hurry. Smart move.
A seemingly endless corridor presented itself to you, so long that your torch light didn't reach the end, instead it illuminated specks of dust floating through the air. This wasn't a basement, it was a fucking secret tunnel. Something was terribly wrong, this was hidden for a reason. You knew whatever awaited you at the end of this corridor wasn't going to be pleasant, yet you persevered.
After what felt like an eternity, you reached a heavy, rusty iron door.
"What the fuck" you muttered to yourself, although it might as well have been a yell, the way it pierced through dead silent corridor.
Suddenly, you thought you heard something. The faintest sound of a whimper. You jumped, and let out what you thought was a confident "who's there", but in reality, you sounded small and afraid. You could hear the fear in your own voice, which only filled you with more dread.
You heard it again, this time slightly louder, and more alive. It was a terrible noise, no words, just the agonising cry of abject horror. There was no denying it, someone was behind that door, and they needed your help.
"I can't believe I'm doing this" you said to yourself as you took a deep breath. You didn't give yourself time to think, or psych yourself out, you just acted. Grabbing the heavy door and pulling it with all your might. Adrenaline coarsed through your veins as the door gradually opened.
The sight you were greeted with was like nothing you'd ever seen before. Your eyes followed your torch around the room, seeing a stomach churning mixture of normalcy and horror. The white tiles, urinals, shower heads and sinks were not unlike any locker room you'd ever seen, but they were coated in a thick layer of grime and filth. In the very center of the room you saw what you hoped wasn't a dried up puddle of blood, but the corpse next to it didn't fill you with confidence. Hang on a second- a CORPSE? All at once, the stench of decomposition, bodily fluids, and the terrible sight of it all hit you like a punch in the gut. You stumbled over a sink, gagging and shaking. You weren't sure if it was fear or disgust that finally made you vomit.
"Wh.. what are you gonna do to me" a timid voice wept from somewhere behind you. You spun round, flashing your torch into the darkest corner of the filthy room. There, sat chained up and shaking like a beaten dog, was a man. His face gaunt and pale, stained with blood and tears. His skinny arms hugging his knees to his body, as he stared up at you with big, wet eyes.
"Oh my god" was all you could say, as your eyes found their way to his ankle. It was shackled to a pipe, his foot was badly bruised and clearly broken.
The man began to let out small, pitiful sobs, as though he was too tired to cry properly.
"Wh.. what happened?" You asked. He didn't - couldn't answer.
"My name's y/n, I'm gonna help you okay?" You said, frantically reaching into your bag for your bolt cutters.
The man threw up his arms in defence and retreated further into his little corner as you approached him.
"Please don't hurt me!" He wailed.
"I'm not going to hurt you, but we've got to get you out of here fast, okay? You can trust me" you said, approaching with more caution now. You had no idea what your plan was, but you knew it would start with getting him unchained.
"Hold still, I'm gonna cut the chain okay?" You said softly. Everything in you wanted to panic and scream, but you knew you needed to keep your cool if you were going to help this guy.
He nodded timidly, and watched as you cut through the chain.
"Were they... has whoever did this fed you?" You asked, already knowing the answer.
He shook his head, "They left me here to die," he managed through sobs.
Remembering your gatorade, you pulled it out of your bag and handed to him.
"Here, the sugar in this will help you. What's your name?"
He hesitated for a moment, but decided that trusting you was really his only viable option.
"It's Adam.. h.. how did you find me?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out myself. Listen to me Adam, we can't afford to waste any time, okay? We go out that door and keep following the hallway. There's a way out of here, but we've got to go now. Can you walk?"
Adam shook his head and began to cry again.
You took a deep breath, realising the severity of the situation. There was no way he'd make it along the corridor, let alone up the stairs.
"I could go back out, and call for help, but you'd have to wait here"
Adam's eyes widened and suddenly he was clinging onto you, like a frightened child on their first day of school
"Don't leave me, please don't leave me" he blubbered, his words almost inaudible.
You suppressed the urge to cry. Seeing a grown man, so frightened, so alone that he was reduced to this... all you wanted to do was hug this poor stranger. In that moment, you knew you couldn't leave him there alone. He must have seen unspeakable horrors in that room, you couldn't leave him there wondering if you were ever coming back.
"Listen to me, Adam. I'm not gonna leave you, we can figure this out. Here," you handed him your rucksack, "put this on, and then get on my back. You'll be in charge of shining the torch, and I'm gonna carry you out of here, got it?"
He nodded, and very hastily obliged, taking huge breaths and trying to steady himself.
His hands were tight around your shoulders, his muffled cries close to your ears as you carried him. He was light, it was clear that he had been down there without food for too long, but it made carrying him easier.
You couldn't quite run, but you steadily jogged through the corridor, your pulse so strong you could practically taste it. You flew up the stairs, and to your relief, the trapdoor was still open, and the house still vacant. You wasted no time getting to the back door and out into the night.
Taking in his first breath of fresh air since who knows when, Adam began to sob uncontrollably, still clinging onto your back.
"Nearly there" you spluttered, beginning to run out of breath. Realising how close you were to your van, a surge of adrenaline spurred you on and by some miracle, you sprinted the last stretch to your van.
You buckled Adam in and headed straight for the hospital.
A few days later
You'd exchanged details with the police and the hospital staff once Adam was being taken care of. You'd given your witness statement and lead the police to the scene of the crime, and now, a few days later you could finally relax a bit. But not entirely, you couldn't stop thinking about Adam. No one even knew he was missing, he would have died if you hadn't accidentally stumbled upon the monster's lair. From what you knew, he had no one. That was when the phone rang, it was the hospital. Adam, having been seen to and fit enough to talk to people, had asked the hospital staff to contact you. They were asking if you'd come to visit later that day.
"Of course, I'll be there! How's he doing" you asked the nice lady on the other end of the phone.
"Much better now, he'll look forward to your visit".
You entered the hospital ward, armed with a bunch of flowers and a get well soon card. You weren't sure if Adam was the type to be into flowers, but you figured it was at least a nice gesture. Adam looked much better indeed, his face had more colour, his arms looked less feeble. He was attached to a drip, you assumed that was something to do with the malnourishment, his foot in a cast and he had a neat dressing on the would in his shoulder.
"Hey, big guy," you smiled, as you approached his bed, sitting down beside it.
"Y/n, you came!" He beamed. This was nothing like the Adam you'd met the other day.
"Of course I did! How are you feeling?"
He reached out and took your hand, a content smile stretching across his face.
"Great, thanks to you. I don't even know what to say, you saved my life"
You knew you'd saved his life, but something about hearing him say it to you out loud just tugged at your heartstrings. You felt your eyes well up, as you squeezed his hand.
"Hey, don't get all soft on me now" he teased, in a reversal of roles where he was now the one to comfort you. "All you did was carry a man from the pits of hell, it's not a big deal or anything" he joked.
You let out a small chuckle.
You really liked Adam's sense of humour, and you couldn't begin to describe how wonderful of a feeling it was to see him laughing and joking. To see him safe and comfortable after that terrible ordeal.
Your visits with Adam became a regular thing, and quickly the two of you became close. You supported him through every step of his recovery, and once he was discharged, you kept in touch. Often meeting for coffee, going on walks. You learned about Adam's love of photography, and watched fondly as he took candids of people on the busy streets, or every now and then snapped one of you because in his words, "the lighting brings out your eyes". Over the course of the next few months, this friendship blossomed into something more. It started when you'd come over to keep him company, he'd been having trouble with nightmares and you were there to help him deal with them. One thing lead to another, and you'd found yourselves cuddled up in his bed admitting your feelings for one another.
A year on from the ordeal, though Adam was still struggling, he was practically a new person.
JIGSAW KILLER SURVIVOR CELEBRATES ONE YEAR OF FREEDOM
Read the front page of a local paper.
On this day last year, local man Adam Faulkner-Stanheight got a second chance at life, when urban explorer y/n miraculously discovered him while investigating an abandoned home on the outskirts of the city.
"Babe, look at this, we've been papped" you chuckle, handing Adam the morning paper as you sipped your coffee.
In perhaps the most an unconventional meet-cute we'll ever see, Mr Faulkner-Stanheight and Miss/Mr y/n, appear to have found love with eachother, despite the traumatic way in which they met. The two now live together and co-own a successful photography business.
Adam smiled fondly at the article, until he noticed the attached picture of the pair of you sat in a café window. He let out a groan.
"Why did they have to use that picture, I look like I'm a having a stroke" he whined, causing you to chuckle.
"Well I think you look very handsome," you peck his cheek and pour some coffee into his mug.
Life is good.
A/n first Adam fic! Ik it was a little rushed, but I honestly just wrote it so I can live in denial comfort myself by giving him a happy ending😭 Hope I did our pookie bear justice <3
Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details and masterlist :^)
Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated bc I don't have many saw mutuals and I'm tryna locate some teehee
#adam faulkner stanheight#adam faulkner x reader#adam saw#saw adam#adam faulkner#adam stanheight#adam stanheight x reader#saw 2004#saw franchise#saw#sawposting#saw movies#jigsaw#leigh whannell#adam x reader#x y/n#x you#x reader#fluff#angst#fanfic#fic#gn reader#fem reader#masc reader
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Can u make seventeen as bestfriend? Thank you~
𑁍SVT as your best friend!
Requested: Absolutely
Genre: Platonic Fluff
Warning(s): None
Requests are open!
S. Coups
Snack runs!
Didn't matter how late.
"Wanna go with me to get [insert snack here]?"
"Thought you'd never ask!"
Movie nights!
Heavy blankets thrown on the couch, you both cozied up on either side of it, laughing at whatever was on.
Coups was kind of protective of you.
He really didn't like it if you came over completely upset.
"Who the hell hurt my child? Who's ass do I have to kick?" type of thing!
Wonwo
Remember that trend where people would go to thrift stores and blindly pick clothes? That's what you guys did but with books.
You always ended up with the really weird ones!
One time, it had been smut written about the grinch...
Somehow, Wonwoo always got lucky and got a decent one.
He gives me grandpa vibes, lmao! But like in a good way.
You guys watched a lot of game shows together. Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. That kind of thing.
You guys liked to poke a bit of fun at some of the contestants on the shows. Mainly the ridiculous answers they gave.
Mingyu
Loyal as they come! ✨️
Gets pouty when you hang out with other friends other than him.
"I'm supposed to be your best friend!"
"You are!"
This was always a goofy little argument you guys had.
Spa nights were pretty frequent. Face masks, pedicures, manicures...!
"Can you paint them? I don't want to."
"Gimme them fingers!"
Expect the nail polish to be messy! He tried his best though!
Vernon
You guys would have the most chilled out, relaxed type of friendship.
I get the vibe he's a floor sitting type of person.
Whenever he's at your house, there is a perfectly good place on the couch/bed for him, boy opts not to sit there.
He picks the floor, every single time. And he just sprawls out on it.
You often do the same though so it all works out.
He often comes over just to sit in silence with you.
You guys didn't have to be doing anything in particular. You guys just simply existed together like 90% of the time.
The other 10% of the time, was you guys having serious conversations about things going on in each others lives
Or maybe even talking about the most outlandish conspiracy theories. Like if Big Foot was real or not lmao
Joshua
Coffee dates at least once a week.
It was a time for you two to talk about your week.
It was a cozy little friendship.
I think he'd do handmade gifts for you.
I mean, yeah, we know he makes bracelets and things like that, but I think sometimes, he'd make you matching T-shirts.
Mainly if you guys were going on vacations together, things like that.
"Do I have to wear this?" you would ask.
"Yes! you have a tendency to get lost! I need to be able to find you easily!"
He gives hovering mom energy but in the most positive way possible lmao
Jeonghan
"It's for the plot" sort of friendship.
You guys feed each other your delusions about whatever.
He had a crush on someone, you'd be right there saying "oh I know they really couldn't stop staring at you!" When in reality, the person just happened to look in his direction.
That type of vibe
One to clown on you! 100%!
You fell asleep first at the little sleep over you guys were having? Better believe he's taking pictures of you and posting them on IG or something. And if it isn't that, he's drawing all over your face in permanent marker.
You also did the same type of thing to him.
One time, you'd put clear tape over the bathroom door, when he tried to walk through, he got tangled all up in it!
Woozi
I think late night drives are pretty common for you two.
Chilling out in silence.
Listening to whatever was on the radio.
Such a vibe
Tons of deep talks
Lots about how you guys wished things turned out differently
Or how things could have been better if...
If it wasn't things like that, it was silly little inconveniences through out the day.
"This idiot cut me off in traffic and then flipped me off"
"It's what you deserve"
A little bit of a dark humored type of friendship I think.
Dokyeom
I think there would be a whole lot of sleepovers at one another's places.
You guys would be stuck together like glue
Nothing could separate you guys!
You did everything together!
He had to go to the grocery store for groceries — you were right there going along with him.
You had a doctor's appointment, he'd be sitting in the waiting room for you.
Almost codependent.
Seungkwan
This man is the best friend anyone could ask for!
You guys love to spill the tea with one another, similarly to the boyfriend thing.
"[Insert name here] is so rude"
"They are! Oh my god!"
The looks you guys give one another from across the room...
No words even need to be spoken!
You guys just look at one another and immediately know what the other is thinking!
He feels exactly like your soulmate in best friend form!
Hoshi
This goof!
You know that video where the kid says "Do the roar"? You'd say this to him and he'd end up doing his infamous tiger thing.
To be honest, it was kind of funny.
I think random presents from one another is something the two of you did.
Yeah, 90% of what he'd gifted you was little lion themed things and he'd received a lot of tiger things from you. A sort of match-y, match-y thing.
Speaking of match-y, match-y things...friendship bracelets were a thing!
If you didn't wear it, he would be so upset! Please never forget to wear it!
Jun
He is so cute!
He doesn't try to make you laugh all that often but he does unintentionally.
That's a pretty common occurrence.
You guys would text each other about every little thing through out the day
"I think I'm getting a pimple on my nose. Looks like it's going to be HUGE one...you wanna pop it?"
"Dude, I stubbed my toe on the couch corner."
Little things like that, it was a constant thing.
Minghao
Personal photographer!
He gets your best angles!
"Tilt your head a little more...perfect." *click*
He also really likes to pick out clothes for you. If doesn't he'll tell you exactly what he doesn't like about the look. Even if it stings a bit.
He'd always tell you the dress code for some event you guys were attending!
I think, he'd be the time to have meditation sessions with you, or at least attempt to but really couldn't focus because you would kind of laugh in between the awkward silences.
He'd lightly tap you, trying his very best to stay focused on the guided meditation but sooner or later, he'd join in on you laughing.
Dino
Hypes you up! Constantly!
He tries to teach you some of their choreography
He's so patient with you! Even if you are a little clumsy and mis-step a bit.
Another one who loves to clown on you, it feels like one of his favorite pass-times.
"You look like a racoon!" he'd tell you before laughing his ass off about how goofy you looked. It wasn't like you had much of a choice in staying up all night to finish that project! You'd put it off for the night before it was due
Another thing he'd do is give you encouragement when you most needed it.
He was always the best at that.
Trash day? He was right there with you on the couch ripping every single part of your day up with you.
#seventeen smut#seventeen#choi seungcheol#jeon wonwoo#boo seungkwan#hansol vernon chwe#hong jisoo#kwon soonyoung#kim mingyu#lee chan#svt dino#dk seventeen#lee seokmin#yoon jeonghan#woozi#lee jihoon#seventeen fluff#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios
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Nowhere to run
Ghostface!Eddie Munson x Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Nowhere to run. but you kept doing it. Eddie was there with you though. But running away from the problem you created seems too easy, don't you think?
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere!Ghostface!Eddie, Lovesick!Eddie, fem!reader, family issue, toxic relationship, knife, murder, jealousy, manipolation, chasing, angst, bad ending.
𝐀/𝐍: So. Bringing a smut with Eddie Ghostface seemed too corny. I tried something that works better for me. Hope you like it. Sorry about my English, this is not my native language. Support and reblog! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)
You ran through an isolated parking lot and, recognizing the place, you realized that you were close to your home. You looked over your shoulder to see if he was still behind you.
You were in total panic, you were crying and you wished this was just a simple nightmare.
You heard the heavy footsteps of his boots and you sped up your run until you arrived in front of your door. You opened it and locked it, locking the locks attached to the door as well. You wasted no time, you went upstairs and hide inside your large closet, hoping he wouldn't find you.
You were chased. But not from just any person you might find on the street, but from Eddie Munson. He was a boy in his late twenties who still attended the same school as you due to his failing grades. He had a low reputation and was called a freak along with his friends. Even though he had a scary appearance, he was actually a boy with a heart of gold. You knew it very well. You knew him. And what's more, you were dating. You were engaged. So why?
You wished you knew.
But you thought this was triggered because of you. You were his girlfriend, his first girlfriend to be precise, and as such, he was afraid of doing something wrong with you. In short, the little complexes you have when you start a relationship, but he had overcome this complex, and you knew it very well, you had helped him. You had always been so available to him and Eddie did the same thing to you. But your boyfriend, beyond this, was in love with you, he was really in love with you, to the point of madness. He was overprotective and jealous to say the least of other guys who got close to you.
You never said anything, but apparently you should have. Eddie started acting strange and you always felt a bad feeling. But you trusted him, so you let it go again. One night, though, you caught him coming home in his Halloween outfit, Ghostface. A ruthless serial killer with a white mask that is nothing short of frightening. He had taken off his mask while carrying someone's body.
Jason Carver.
Jason Carver lately, he wanted to give trouble to the metalhead, playing tasteless games on you or he approached you and made fun of you by flirting with you. All to make Eddie jealous, and therefore annoy him. He had always done it with him. Jason and Eddie hated each other because they were opposites. But both never raised their hands. Eddie didn't like this kind of thing unless he had to, but he always thought that if he got into a fight with anyone he would lose from the start. He wasn't incredibly strong like Jason, but that didn't matter to you. But that night you changed your mind.
He had killed him.
And you were paralyzed as soon as he saw you.
You remained in that corner without saying anything while he, with his costume full of blood, tried to justify himself and explain the situation.
You remained silent. Nodding.
But then you ran away. It was as if you realized what had happened that very evening. After two days you decided to go home but he chased you and you panicked.
He had entered. Now there's no turning back.
His boots could be heard on the wooden floor.
"Sweetheart..." He said teasingly. He was in your room, you caught a glimpse of his Ghostface costume as he held a sharp blade.
Your tears continued to fall.
It was your fault. You had transformed him.
"Please come out, I don't want to hurt you. I would never hurt you."
Was it true?
Eddie always said and stated that he would never lay a finger on you, because he loved you. But you were afraid...
Was it the right thing to do? Did you have to stay hidden? Or come out and pray Eddie figures out why you're running away?
You didn't know.
But your instincts suggested staying in the closet.
Eddie, after checking under the bed and the rest of the room, left. From the various sounds you could guess that he was going to your parents' room. Your parents weren't there that evening and neither were your brothers and sisters, you were a large family, but no one was present in the house this evening. Such misfortune was truly unheard of. You came out of your hiding place and ran towards the front door. As dangerous as the situation was, you didn't want to report Eddie. You loved him after all. You wanted to go out and think clearly and think about what to do to make your now crazy boyfriend see reason.
You were in front of the door but you clumsily tripped and fell down the stairs and a searing pain shot into your leg making you scream. It wasn't broken, but you took a chance, it was definitely fractured or something, but the worst thing was that every single movement of your leg hurt. You were done for.
You cried again and again and Eddie walked down the stairs at a slow pace.
He bowed, looking at your tear-filled face as you trembled.
“Shhh…” He hissed as he brushed against your injured leg making you gasp. The metalhead wrapped his arms around you hugging you "That's why you don't have to run away sweetie, otherwise you'll hurt yourself. And you know how sad it makes me to see you in this state" he said as he put the blade down on you and picked you up.
You continued to cry and sniff as you felt Eddie's latex gloves caressing your hair.
"Why don't we go home? So we can treat this leg and explain to me why you ran away?" He proposed as your head was pressed into his chest, you couldn't do anything else. You gasped and sobbed in response.
"Come on pretty girl, don't cry, everything will be fine..." he said taking you upstairs, more precisely to your room. He made you lay down and he sat next to you staring at you for a while.
He took off his mask revealing his brown curls "Now let's do this. If you tell me now why you ran away, I will heal your leg" he proposed. Was he a threat by any chance? Not very likely. Eddie would have treated you anyway, this is because he doesn't want to make you suffer, but certainly when he wants to know something he will always try to make you spit it out.
Unfortunately you couldn't even form a sentence due to the pain and crying. So Eddie sat on the bed next to your face caressing it "Baby, stop crying, nothing happened, you just hurt yourself. If you want it to go away you have to calm down, okay?" His tone was soft, which made Eddie even crazier than he already was. Was he manipulating you by any chance? Or was he sincere? Too many questions and zero answers. Your head was a total mess and you just wanted to regain control. You listened to him. You took deep breaths and he smiled at you "That's right. Good girl" He praised you then placed a light kiss on your forehead.
“I-I’m sorry…” you apologized.
"It's okay baby. Don't worry. If you ran away, was it because I accidentally scared you?" He asked and you nodded "Aw, I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to. I'll try not to scare you anymore, okay?" You nodded again as more tears rolled down your face.
You missed him. You missed old Eddie. That bastard rabbit heart that was scared of even his own shadow, even if he didn't show it. You missed that boy who pestered you with Lord of the Rings and Dangeon & Dragons all day. You missed Eddie. Edward Munson. The boy you were so in love with. But now he had become an Eddie with a boundless love for you and a murderous madness if anyone dared to touch you.
It was your fault.
Eddie bandaged your leg trying to ease your pain. Your leg hurt but not like before so you felt slightly better "I love you so much sweetheart" he said picking you up again and planting a kiss on your forehead "Me too..." You answered sincerely. Your life had now changed and now the only thing you could do was hope that you could change Eddie. And if you didn't succeed, well then you deserved it. After all, your parents were right.
"You only bring trouble and turn even the best souls into monsters just like you"
Insignificant words. But real today. They were right to think of you this way, they were right to not love you, they were right to belittle you because ultimately this is who you were. A monster who transformed others. This was your destiny, nowhere to run.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#stranger things eddie#eddie munson angst#eddie x reader#eddie munson x female reader#ghostface!eddie#ghostface!eddie munson#lovesick!eddie#scream
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