#can you tell i gave up on the background loll | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefallenangelsgang · 1 month

Text

This is the incomplete scene the line from the tag game is pulled from. I'm not tagging it with anything in the hopes it gets hopelessly buried but I am too excited to not share. I am not kidding when I say narrative has not felt this easy in a long time.

Spoilers for Act 3 of Baldur's Gate, TW for Blood and Body Fluids (spinal fluid to be precise), I wanted the stakes to feel a little higher so I peppered in some bodily trauma hence the blood 'n stuff, brief uncouth language (there's a few fucks sprinkled in there)

Some context for it: this picks up after the failed Elder Brain Domination sequence immediately as the portal closes with the Party in the Astral Plane. The Tav and Narrator is a High Elf named Wynleth, she romanced Gale. All of the Companions (minus Minthara cause she didn't make it into the cool kids club) plus two OCs (repped by hirelings in my gameplay) are present.

Also, Emperor hate if you are sensitive to that. I'm not the Tentacle's biggest fan frankly, hence why this exists.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At times the squirming feeling had been uncomfortable. It even had been painful, distracting from whatever I was attempting to focus on. This is a whole other plane of being. The fire in my cranium consumes me, making coherent thought impossible. My mouth is filled with the distinct taste of copper and something I cannot place. Pressure builds and it makes it feel like my eardrums might rupture or perhaps my head might just explode altogether. That almost would be a welcome release from this torture

Then all at once it stops. The sudden shift from everything being too much to feeling nothing at all is damn near deafening in a different way than the pressure and pain was. I loll in disorientation and hands steady me, bracing my shoulders.

My vision swims at first. Blues and purples and greys swirl like strange liquid in a glass jar. It only adds to the dizziness brought on by the pervasive numbness. The hands are still gripping my shoulders. I can almost feel my hands, almost. The gritty texture against my palms speaks to handfuls of dirt clenched in my fists. I will myself to release them.

It’s muffled but I think someone speaks my name. So close I can feel the vibrations in my chest yet we might as well be separated by an eternity. It’s an effort to bring my hand up to grip their forearm. It’s an even greater effort to bring my head up to look them in the eyes.

I can’t discern exactly who it is through the intricate dance the colors are doing in my eyes. The figure is dark against the shimmering ethereal background so it is not one of my fairer companions whose complexions would only muddle my identification more. I try to ask for a name but a strained sound is the only thing to push past my lips. Well that and a bit more blood.

A new wave of numbness washes over me starting from the crown of my head and spreading to the very edges of my person. A little clarity comes with it this time and the vertigo subsides.

“Take it easy, you gave us quite a scare.”

Shadowheart. Still muffled but sounding closer by the second. Something I’m hoping resembles a smile graces my face.

Then The Emperor speaks and a crashing wave of pain drowns the words out, ripping a cry from my mouth. No fresh blood this time though.

A pulse of Shadowheart’s healing magic surges through me, a touch too harsh considering she is dealing with my brain pan, but I think that can be forgiven given that it sounds like she is reaming the Illithid for all it’s worth.

“-stupid? Her brain has been scrambled enough. Until she’s stable, kindly shut the fuck up.”

The silence after is telling. That round of healing must have knocked something back into place though, the dirt comes into sharp focus. I never thought I’d be so happy to see pebbles. I’m less pleased to see the amount of blood and clear liquid that mars the ground and both pairs of knees in my field of view. “Sorry about your pants.”

My speech is still lethargic and ungraceful and I certainly missed the mark on the coy tone I was going for, but the way Gale’s face floods with relief at my coherence feels almost as good as the magic coursing through my veins.

“My pants? Don’t ever scare me like that again!” The incredulity of his initial statement melts into something of a mix of concern and joy as he cups my face. His eyes betray the fright I put him through though. I wish I had the strength to feel sorry about that but I really can only make room for relief at the moment. “I really thought that was going to be it,” I say thickly before gathering some saliva to spit the fluid in my mouth off to the side.

“So did we. It was… a lot.” Shadowheart is somewhere behind me. The fear peeks through her usually even cadence. I must have put on quite a show. “Is this clear stuff what I think it is?” I venture and really hope she doesn’t affirm my suspicions. Spinal fluid means something was desperately wrong. I grit my teeth as I wait for a response.

“Y-Yes. I think so at least.” Now she touches me. A gentle hand between my shoulder blades. “You’d think they turned on a hose the way it sprayed out of you, darling.”

The urge to laugh at Astarion’s colorful retelling of the events is a difficult fight, one I lose. I bury it into my shoulder and try to cover it with a cough but the way Gale clucks his tongue at the comment of very poor taste breaks the dam. My reaction cracks a smile on the wizard’s face, however miniscule, though.

“I’m sorry my love, it’s all just a little absurd,” I say, still gallantly attempting to retain some composure.

“You’re cracking.”

“Spectacularly.”

Teasing each other in this moment seems entirely irreverent to the fact that I almost just died and that the situation we are in just got a whole lot more grim but the Gods can strike us down for attempting to find some levity.

Gently I lean forward and rest my head against Gale’s shoulder. I’m fucking tired and I feel lightheaded despite everything Shadowheart has done but there’s very little she can do about that without actual supplies. I’m short a not insubstantial bit of liquid between the blood and the spinal fluid. It certainly looks worse than it is though. We could try a cocktail of potions and elixirs to get me back up to speed but I think I’d rather rest a bit before we try drugging me into fighting shape. Gale’s arms around me feel nice.

“Am I all clear Shadowheart?” I turn to rest my temple on Gale’s clavicle. From this vantage I can see my party gathered around in a tight bunch wearing grim faces of worry. Shadowheart looks exhausted, I likely took quite a bit out of her, but she nods.

The Emperor floats back over and makes a motion like it’s asking permission to speak, shocking me more than it probably should. But if the psionic link is going to turn my brain to soup then maybe it is best to ask the cleric first before she has to revive me again. Her stern gaze is comforting and promises hell if I end up with more liquid leaking out my nose.

The psionics aren’t painful per se, they certainly are more uncomfortable than usual. I try not to grimace too much and make Shadowheart call the communication off. Charades are not indicative of good battle plans and I have a feeling reading is only going to make the lingering headache worse. Besides, we really don’t have time.

“The situation is worse than I thought.” I watch Astarion roll his eyes theatrically. He chooses to keep his mouth shut. Smart man. “What you went up against is an Elder Brain no longer. The magic of the crown has caused it to evolve. It has become something more - a Netherbrain.”

“Is that why I took up the role of a garden water feature when I tried to dominate it?” The withering looks I get from my companions are severe. I roll my eyes gently and burrow into Gale’s neck a little more. Try coping with this clusterfuck in a reasonable manner.

“I wouldn’t have used that turn of phrase but- yes. It unleashed the psionic power back on you. You are lucky I pulled you out of there. We nearly lost everything.”

And reality comes crashing down.

#Raaaahhhhhh #Wynleth's cadence was very easy to find and I've never been happier about it #*sighs*#I'm going to be sick but I'm being so brave about it #If you want to see more of this check out this tag on my account:#Jericho writes

2 notes · View notes

dragonsarecool · 2 months

Text

Febwhump Day 25 - CPR

A/N: Why does Marty know how to do CPR? Sadly his mother gave him no choice. Set prior to Part I.

"911, do you require police, fire or ambulance?"

"A-ambulance, please!" Marty's voice trembled. "Hurry!"

"Thank you sir. Can you tell me what city and state you're located in?"

"Uh, H-Hill Valley, California. D-Do you need my address?"

"Not yet, sir. Please hold for a moment," The line went quiet, which did nothing to ease Marty's anxieties. "911, what's your emergency?"

"Uh, hi. I-It's my mom, I d-don't think she's breathing!" Marty's voice cracked. He'd tried so hard to be strong and sound mature, but quickly realised that he was underprepared for how stressful this conversation was going to be. "I-I've tried shaking her and t-that usually works but she's not moving and I don't know h-how much she's had this time a-and dad hasn't finished w-work yet-"

"Okay, okay, just breathe for me," The soothing voice of the operator instructed. "What's your name, young man?"

"M-Marty."

"Okay, Marty, and how old are you?"

"I'm eleven. Is my mom gonna die?!"

"I'm going to help you help her, Marty okay?" The operator said kindly. "Can you tell me your exact location please?"

"Uh, i-it's 9303 Roslyndale A-Avenue, Hill Valley."

"Okay, thank you Marty. Where is your mother at the moment?"

"I-In the kitchen. She's lying on the table."

"Okay. Can you see if there's any spit or blood in her mouth for me?"

Marty pushed his mom's head to the side, feeling sick at how easily it rolled. "How do I open her mouth?! It's closed!"

"Press your thumb on her chin, Marty, and gently pull down for me."

The boy did as instructed, surprised to find that the gesture actually worked. Of course it worked, you idiot. She's the doctor after all!…I think. "I don't see anything! Is that good?"

"Yes, Marty, that's excellent," He could hear the operator typing furiously in the background. "Is your mom breathing normally?"

"I-I don't think so-"

"I want you to put your hand on her tummy, Marty, and I want you to tell me if you feel it move."

Marty manoeuvred his hand underneath the table, placing it as best he could across Lorraine's stomach. He waited for what felt like forever, praying that he would feel some sort of movement, yet his mother remained still. "No, she's not breathing!"

"Okay, Marty," He could hear the operator sigh in the background, and he hoped it wasn't from disappointment. "Is there anyone else in the house with you?"

"N-No, it's j-just me," Marty's lip wobbled violently as he began to cry, the tears blurring his vision of his currently-deceased mother. "Mom, please wake up! Please!!"

"Marty, I need you to take a breath for me," The operator spoke firmly. "I'm sending someone to help you, Marty, but in the meantime I need you to be really brave and follow my instructions, okay?"

The young boy sobbed harder. "Mommy…"

"Marty, take that breath for me," The operator's voice was slightly harsher. "I need your help to help your mom, remember?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy. Now I need you to try and push your mother onto the floor for me, okay?"

Marty's brow furrowed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Wait…so I have to push her over?"

"Yes, Marty. She needs to be flat on her back on the floor, okay?"

"B-But what if I hurt her?!"

"She'll understand, Marty, I promise she will. Now can you push her onto the floor for me?"

"Okay, one sec!" Marty put the receiver on the table before throwing his full body weight into his mother's shoulder. Her head lolled slightly, but she remained stubbornly on the dining room chair. "Mom! Please!"

Marty decided that he needed more power to knock his mother over. He took a few steps back before charging head-on into his mother's limp form, gasping at the force of the impact. To his delight, Lorraine's head rolled off the table, with the rest of her body quickly following suit as she crumpled to the ground.

He wasn't sure if there should've been a loud crack as his mom's head made contact with the floor, but Marty decided to ask later if he remembered. Pulling the dining chair out of the way, he crawled around to the other side of his mom's body and pushed her away from him.

Grabbing the receiver, Marty pulled on the cord to reach his position on the floor. "I've done it, ma'am!"

"Well done, Marty!" The operator cheered. "Now the next thing I need you to do is a bit complicated, but I'm going to talk you through it the whole time, okay?"

"O-Okay?"

"I need you to place one hand in the centre of your mom's chest for me, and place the other hand on top. Can you do that for me?"

"But how will I hold the phone?"

"Tuck the receiver into the crook of your shoulder, Marty, and use the side of your head to keep it in place."

"Okay, I think I get it."

"Good boy. Are your hands on mom's chest for me?"

There was a brief pause as Marty shuffled the receiver into position on his shoulder. It hurt to tilt his neck that far, but he knew he had to if he wanted to save his mom. "My hands are on mom's chest!"

"Okay, excellent. I need you to press down hard on mom's chest for me."

Marty was confused. "B-But won't that hurt her?"

"It'll keep her heart breathing so she keeps getting oxygen," The operator explained. "Now you need to press hard, and there might be some ugly sounds, but you need to keep pressing hard or it won't work. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Use your full body weight and lean over your mom so you'll have enough strength to press down, okay?"

"Okay. I-I'll try," Marty placed his hands in the requested position, hesitating for a brief second before pressing down with all his weight. A nauseating crack came from his mom's chest, and he let out an involuntary yelp. "GAH!"

"Marty, remember I said there would be some unpleasant sounds?"

"D-Did I break something?!" Marty shrieked. "Oh my God!"

"Marty, calm down," The operator spoke firmly, her voice carrying an air of authority. "You need to keep going with that pushing, okay? That's what's going to make your mom better."

Marty wiped his face, struggling to slow his breathing. "I-I'll try…"

"Good boy. Now put your hands back on mom's chest and keep pushing down for me."

*****

It took several weeks before Marty stopped hearing the cracking ribs at night.

Or before he could look at his mother without also seeing the lifeless expression and rolled-back eyes adorning her face.

While the rest of the family eventually recovered and chose to bury the incident, Marty found he couldn't. For some reason, he couldn't let go of what had happened.

When the nightmares started rousing him at night, he didn't bother telling his parents.

About how he would press down on his mother's chest and it would explode, showering him in blood.

Or how he would work until he collapsed with exhaustion and watch her die before him.

If they didn't console him over literally bringing his mother back from the dead, he knew they wouldn't bother comforting him over something as small as a nightmare.

He was almost fourteen when they finally stopped. And when they did resurface, all they could do now was fill with him a dull anger before he fell back asleep, wishing things had been different.

#bttf #back to the future #fanfiction #whump #febwhump #febwhump24 #febwhump2024

4 notes · View notes

atopearth · 1 year

Text

Final Fantasy VII Remake Part 5 - Episode INTERmission (DLC)

I finally got a PS5! Well, I was trying to stop myself but I ended up caving in because apparently my love for Final Fantasy trumps all and I have to play Crisis Core and Part 2 of the Remake asap lol. Anyway, time to play the Yuffie DLC first! It's easy to make a story for Yuffie since her goal has always been to find good materia to protect and fortify Wutai or whatever so she'll go anywhere and everywhere stealing it haha. Her appearance is definitely super childish with the moogle hoodie lol. Kinda cute how you get to see Jessie, Biggs and Wedge in the background. Anyway, I completely forgot how the battle system works so I'm kindaaa mashing buttons and I kindaaa died LOL. Am I too old for this?🥲 As for Fort Condor...very amusing. Honestly, it's not my thing, I vastly prefer the original mainly because I liked the limited units you had to choose from and I enjoyed getting to control stuff like my medic healing soldiers etc, whereas I feel like for this one, I'm just spamming units out until I win lol. As for the Happy Turtle flyers which I assume are like the original Turtle Paradise flyers, it was very weird to have a dancing turtle guy tell me to find these posters lolll. I kinda liked the subtleness of the original because it felt like a fun little game on the side with no pressure. Anyway, the turtle flyers were easier to find than expected, I didn't even try🥲 As for the Fort Condor game, personally, I didn't find it very fun, it wasn't very challenging either tbh but I guess it’s not hard mode haha. But I guess that is kinda how it was in the original lol. Even though I remember the game, it's not like I really liked it that much haha. To be fair though, I didn't like most of the mini games in FFVII aside from Chocobo racing. I never thought I could hate motorcycle racing more but the Remake was able to do it, so I won't be surprised if snowboarding and the submarine game will be the thing of nightmares🥲

Sonon looks pretty cute! Dangg, killing Ramuh was annoying, had to try a couple of times zzz. Carbuncle definitely helped with the clinch heal, and as usual, limit breaks deal good damage🥲 Personally, I'm not that fond of Yuffie, and she has very exaggerated movements which annoy me for some reason when she's talking hahaha, I'm sorry, I know she's just a kid but still. It's nice to see little fanservice moments such as what Tifa felt when Cloud was gone, but they're pretty minor so yeah. I have no idea how Yuffie can slide up a pole and do it that fast other than some kind of game logic but okay lol, it does look cool I'll admit. I was so happy when Yuffie took off her silly moogle hoodie😅 Anyway, Sonon protecting Yuffie from getting squashed on the train was cute, and I liked how they kept how she gets motion sickness haha, how nostalgic. Poor Sonon lost his sister because of Shinra's weapons that were made by Scarlet. Is it proof that I'm old when I think Reeve is hot? LOL Anyway, I was sick of the breaking boxes game so I gave up after a few tries lol😅 Honestly, I'm sad that we're stuck in the Shinra building again because it's such a boring place loll. Aside from that, apparently Nero and Weiss are from Dirge of Cerberus? They look pretty cool but otherwise, nothing else is appealing about them. Funnily, their boss battle is easier than when I fought Ramuh lol, and I never even ended up using Ramuh for anything! Personally, I am quite fond of Yuffie's skillset though, I love not needing to walk alot, it's so nice to throw her weapon and then kinda "teleport" to the enemy haha, kinda reminds me of the warping in FFXV?

Sonon dying was expected, but I kinda didn't want it to happen because it was sooo obvious lol. I think it would have been perfectly fine to have him alive because there's so many reasons for Yuffie to be alone. She's such a free spirit and does things at her own pace, of course she would run around by herself lol, but I guess it is what it is. I mean, it's not like I'm particularly fond of Sonon anyway, but that's also because I'm not that fond of Yuffie either lol, but I think they were cute, and it would have been sweet for Yuffie to have a boyfriend in Wutai haha! I mean, the fact that Yuffie was an optional character in the original FFVII gave the writers a lot of freedom to write her story, especially since her main goal is to look for materia, so she can literally do whatever she wants without affecting the story. Anyway, I didn't cry. Seeing Zack was interesting, since it seems to be some sort of alternate timeline, they're definitely intent on pushing the Aerith and Zack pairing, which is expected considering all the marketing and everything but yeah... Personally, the thing I'm most excited to see in Part 2 is Kalm! I honestly don't care about anything else, I just want to see my favourite town LOL. I love the track Ahead On Our Way and it just makes me feel so nostalgic and calm whenever I think of the music and Kalm. I would also really like to play the flashback again because playing as Sephiroth is always cool but we'll see.

Overall, INTERmission was pretty much what I expected. Was it worth $30? Personally, it wasn't worth it for me because it added no substance to the story or the characters for me but I guess that’s how DLCs are. Sure, it was nice to see Fort Condor and the turtle posters, but if you ask if I enjoyed them? Not really. It's nice to see another Avalanche group, but since Yuffie and Sonon don't really do much with them, it was basically lost potential. Personally, I think the biggest mistake for the DLC was to make it set in Midgar again, and not only Midgar but it's literally the same places. Like yeah, it's kinda cute to think how Yuffie was in the same place as Cloud and them, but at the same time, I'm sick of this place lol. Especially Shinra Building, such a boring place. Anyway, considering Yuffie is a ninja and she was in the open world when you found her in the original, I would have preferred to see more of an "adventure" than this DLC that tries to bait you with some Dirge of Cerberus fanservice at the end alongside a pretty basic plot in which nothing happened. I'm actually pretty disappointed because Yuffie from this DLC feels like a legit kid and sometimes I can't stand her haha! I can't tell if it's because I'm old now or if she's just too childish for me now, or if the characters just translated better as blocks lolll. The best thing about this DLC was Yuffie's skillset, I love playing with her skills!

Otherwise, if you're curious about whether you "need" to play this DLC or not, you definitely don't. I'd say Crisis Core Reunion which will be coming out in December would probably be more crucial considering how much the Remake wants to sell Zack and his story. The fact that they're remaking/remastering Crisis Core right before Part 2 comes out goes to show that they intend on Crisis Core being important enough to know about for the future. Whether that's a good thing or not, I don't really know because I've never cared for Zack either. Considering my grievances, you might think why does she even bother with the Remake lol, but despite my whining, I can't not play something that is FFVII related, I mean I still need to see my favourite Reno and Rufus again lolll, all I want to do is march as a soldierrrr!😍

#final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #ffvii

1 note · View note

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

double dare, m | ksj, knj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader x namjoon — also yoongi x reader, implied ot7 x reader

summary: Kim Seokjin calls to issue a challenge. A (double) dare, if you will. He says you can't take two dicks at once. Kim Namjoon, his roommate, argues that you can. Well, you never back down from a dare, especially when it involves Seokjin and Namjoon.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, low-key horny crack + chaotic energy; smut (fem reader, doggy, threesome, slight D/s dynamics, mild restraint, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, double penetration); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader, focusing on Seokjin and Namjoon in this one :D (cough with some Yoongi)

'journey (to the dick)' au aka you as the main character in harem hentai and BTS is your (horny af) harem

“Yah!”

Smack!

“What? Ah, f-fuck!”

“I need you to get over here. There is a particular matter that needs to be discussed,” came the very serious, no-nonsense tone from your phone, speaking rather sternly for someone who called you three times in a row and forced you to answer in the middle of your, ahem, dick appointment.

You were holding the phone in one hand and your other was on the bed, fingers clutching the sheets, jerked forward periodically with firm, hard thrusts.

Someone was shouting behind the one on the phone.

“I told hyung that you could take dick in both holes and he doesn’t believe me!”

You immediately recognized that deep, sultry voice in the background. Still, you needed to address the accusation first.

“Kim Seokjin,” you panted. “What the fuck?”

You could hear his exaggerated eye roll. Well, you couldn’t, but you could, you know?

“Namjoon thinks you can take dick in the pussy and the ass at the same time,” Seokjin spat as if that was utter bullshit. “And that’s just not possible.”

Smack! “Why–” Smack! “Would–” Smack! “You–” Smack! “Think–” Smack! “I couldn’t – mmm, fuck, yes right theeere, fuck, so deep and so hard, ugh, you’re so good…”

Seokjin continued like you weren’t in the middle of getting fucked right that very second.

“Because, okay, you could take some small dick, sure, but us? Us? Come on, you totally couldn’t.”

“That was absolutely absurd of you to say so, Kim Seokjin,” you snapped, your words curling into a lustful moan as a firm hand pushed the small of your back down, forcing you to your elbow, leisurely spanking your ass hard with his open palm, keeping you on the edge, so close to hitting your peak but not quite there, thrusting steady but rough.

The headboard was hammering the wall at the same deliberate pace.

The neighbor who lived on the other side of the wall was cursing again.

“Are you both going to be home?” you gasped out, all of your muscles tensing. Almost…

Seokjin snorted. “Pfft, obviously, we are human beings who sleep, you know–”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hung up on him.

“I gotta go.”

Surprisingly, the deep, husky voice behind you actually responded.

“After this one.”

“You asshole, you are holding out – a-ah, wait, oooooooh, fuck!”

"I took a shower, Yoongi helped me clean all my bits, I dried my hair, went back home to put on a fresh dress and you're fucking ASLEEP, KIM SEOKJIN, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

“Zzzzzzz – guh!”

Total chaos as you threw yourself onto Kim Seokjin’s lap, disturbing the perfect image of self-proclaimed Worldwide Handsome laying on the couch covered with a fluffy white blanket and squishy alpaca plush with a red neck scarf tucked in his inner arm, grabbing said plush and smacking him with it repeatedly as Seokjin lost his shit, flailing about and throwing his arms over his head, wailing at you to stop. His roommate, Kim Namjoon, was unabashedly cackling like a lunatic behind you.

“CEASE AND DESIST!”

“You–” FWOOP! “Bossy–” FLOOP! “Pillow–” BOOP! “Princess!”

“Namjoon, h-help!”

“Hell no,” Namjoon snorted in laughter. “I’m having a great time watching.”

“Yah!”

“First you doubt me, then you fall asleep on me, what’s next, you–”

Seokjin grabbed both your wrists, thinking he had won, already cheering for himself, only for you to plant your tits right onto his handsome face, his nose jammed right into your cleavage because of the sweetheart neckline of your red lace dress, hot breath warming your chest, brown eyes wide, grip on your wrists lessening in his shock. You yanked your hands out and clutched his head, sinking your fingers into his black hair, violently muffling his half-squeal, half-moan with your breasts, blaringly obvious that you weren’t wearing a bra because your prominent nipples were already hard and creating stiff peaks under the fabric, poking him incessantly in the cheeks.

You gasped as another pair of strong hands grabbed your forearms and made you release Seokjin’s head, forcing them up and your back to arch. A deep voice dipped down to caress your ear, not paying attention to Seokjin who did not detach himself from your tits.

He was making the most of it while you were distracted.

“Woah there, what do you think you’re doing?” Namjoon drawled, grip tightening, bending your arms back, elbows up, pressing your wrists to your upper back. “That’s not a punishment.”

You tried to breathe but Namjoon’s heavenly deep voice was taking your breath away.

“You know what punishments are.”

He pressed your head back, leaving your arms the way they were, and Namjoon’s sultry eyes appeared, half-lidded brown orbs completely visible because he had cut his hair very short now, dark gray-brown and spiked up, cocking an eyebrow at you. You whimpered at his gaze, suddenly feeling hotness on the curve of your breast, lips pressed to one of your nipples, and then wetness closing in, sucking you through lace and satin, the short flared skirt rising because of your spread thighs, but there was too much fabric between you and Seokjin’s hardness, the blanket and pajama pants and boxer briefs, so frustrating, about to lower your head to rectify that, but Namjoon’s palm pressed into your chin, fingers closing in around your cheeks, immobile.

“Where do you think you’re looking?”

Every time Namjoon smirked, one of his dimples peeked out at you. Ugh, so sexy.

“I… I’m s-supposed to be punishing Seokjinnie…” you gasped out, feeling said man’s teeth nicking at your nipple through your dress, his large hands closing in on your waist, pulling you closer, causing you to bend back more, unable to escape Namjoon’s grip and gaze.

Namjoon tilted his head, amused. “Yeah? Were you so, so mad that hyung wasn’t awake so you could show off how well you can take it in both holes?”

You didn’t want to whine and be pathetic, but Seokjin’s mouth and hands were all over your breasts and waist, pinching you through your clothes and sucking on the hard nubs, rushes of pleasure clouding your head and making you forget your defiance, remembering all the things Namjoon liked, like when you were so drunk on sex that you just gave into him, now whimpering and opening your mouth, your tongue sliding out, feeling him shift his palm, Namjoon’s finger leisurely tracing your lips. Your tongue followed, licking the pads of his fingers, rolling your body into Seokjin’s mouth, wanting to grab his shoulders but not letting yourself do so because Namjoon hadn’t allowed you to do so yet.

He liked you bad, but he also liked you obedient.

“W… Want it…”

You felt Namjoon’s other hand tangle in your hair, fingers molding to your scalp, sliding two of his long fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them, your eyelids fluttering as he fucked your mouth with his fingers, rubbing your tongue, pushing your arms down, your name growled by that deep, deep voice.

“Look at me.”

You fixated your eyes on Namjoon’s stern expression, shuddering as you felt Seokjin push the sleeves of your dress down, scooping out your breasts, moaning as his lips touched your skin, hot tongue teasing your hard nipples and you couldn’t tell him to do more or less, trapped by Namjoon’s fingers in your mouth and his hand in your hair, tugging at it lightly so you sucked his fingers like a cock, vision hazing out at the helplessness of it all.

Voluntary helplessness, to be clear.

“You want it? You had Yoongi-hyung fucking you earlier and now you want more? So dirty and so insatiable,” Namjoon taunted, not meaning it of course, because how could he mean it when he too wanted it all, knew you were insatiable and loved it as much as the rest of them, addicted to the feeling you gave him, pushing your head down, fingers still in your mouth. Seokjin raised his head, black hair, large brown eyes, pink lips lush and full and gorgeous, meeting the image of fingers sliding in and out of your glossy lips, your eyes glassy and reflected in his.

Namjoon pushed his fingers apart, opening your mouth.

Your tongue lolled out, swiping around his knuckle, staring into Seokjin’s eyes.

“F… Fuck…”

The oldest was dirty-minded but resistant in showing it, clenching his jaw, weakening as your fingers danced up his arms and you moaned his name messily between Namjoon’s long wet digits, tits pushed up by the neckline of your dress straining under them, knowing your sensuality was irresistible and infectious, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.

“I still… don’t think you can take us both at once…” he breathed, staring into your eyes.

You smirked, Namjoon’s fingers sliding out, saliva smearing onto your chin, the taste of his skin on your tongue.

“Only one way to find out.”

And you leaned in and kissed those perfect lips, soft and passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, fingers splaying over his back and in his hair, his name trapped in the kiss, sudden hardness pressing to your back, breaking the first kiss and turning your head to be trapped in another, full lips commanding the lip-lock, two different hands on your breasts, Seokjin and Namjoon toying with them, the rush of pleasure only just beginning.

“Whose face am I looking at?”

“Obviously mine,” Seokjin scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?”

You gasped. “But Namjoon is so handsome.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you want him to make you look at him, so that completely defeats the purpose of being forced when the default is you facing him.”

“Also, hyung thinks he’s the most handsome,” Namjoon chuckled, tugging your dress off, kisses across your chest as it left your body, hands travelling to push your panties down.

“No,” Seokjin choked, affronted as you moaned and gripped Namjoon’s shoulders, enjoying his powerful grip. “I am not that self-centered. I just happen to like how I look very much. Namjoon is very handsome, capable, and intelligent.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

Namjoon shoved a finger inside your wetness, making you stumble into the sofa, raising your leg to place it against Seokjin’s naked thigh, almost falling if it wasn’t for your ass being suddenly grabbed by Seokjin’s firm hands.

“You are still clumsy, Namjoon,” Seokjin sighed, lowering you slightly to look over your shoulder.

You reached back and held onto the sofa, Namjoon’s mouth on your nipple and his finger in your soaked pussy, thrusting deeply to match his swiping tongue, maddeningly slow but rough, so dangerous, losing your mind at the leisurely pace, trying to buck your hips to get more but Seokjin’s hands were preventing you.

You heard the oldest huff and make a disapproving tongue click.

“Not like that. She likes it faster than that.”

Namjoon knew that. Obviously.

Your eyes widened.

He smirked around your nipple as one of Seokjin’s hands left your ass.

“Seok– oh, fuuuck!”

You gasped as you felt another finger enter your dripping pussy, another finger of a different hand, stretching your walls and a different pace, faster, your eyes rolling back, head hitting Seokjin’s shoulder, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, your moans in his ear, Namjoon matching the rhythm, oh, shit, they were fingering you together, Seokjin from between your legs from behind and Namjoon from the front, the backs of their hands slick with your juices, Seokjin’s other hand still squeezing one ass cheek and Namjoon’s other hand on your waist, his mouth on your breasts.

“Come on, I know you’re close,” Seokjin muttered, exhaling hard. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in, asking for dick already.”

He was not normally one for dirty talk, but sometimes Seokjin let himself got lost in the lust, lost in the moment of your throbbing walls and shaking body, moans of their names tumbling from your lips, filling up their living room with obscenity and depravity, thrusting in unison, loud and wet and heavy breathing blending with your sound, pushed to the edge, thighs tensing, electricity flashing throughout your nerves.

“Namjoon, Seokjin, fuck!”

Wet squelch, sweet gush of your juices soaking their hands, your eyes rolling back, yelping as Namjoon’s hand retreated and Seokjin stuffed another finger in you. You didn’t need to say it, one glance at Namjoon and he could see it, harder, hyung, she can take it, gasping as Seokjin obeyed and Namjoon's wet fingers pressed onto your throbbing clit, wild howl at the contact, sparks of sensitivity because it was right after your orgasm, heat at your neck from Seokjin’s cheeks, his teeth finding your shoulder, biting it, maybe from his realization of how crazy this moment was or in the heated moment of wanting to feed you even more pleasure, but the sharp unexpected pain only hiked your moans, Namjoon rubbing your clit as Seokjin shoved his fingers into you hard and fast, the angle a little awkward but there was so much going on that it didn’t matter, already there once again, obsessed with the overabundance of ecstasy, I’m cumming, fuck, Namjoon, Seokjin, a-ah, clit engorged and pulsing strongly to Namjoon’s punishing touch, words jumbled and woven with breathless cries, orgasm crashing down and soaking Seokjin’s hand once more, thick and sweet and honey-like, viscous juices clinging to your inner thighs, painted with your high.

Namjoon leaned in, silencing your shuddering gasps with his mouth, deep kisses and swirling tongue dazing you, aftershocks flinching through your torso as he pressed his fingertips to your jerking core, lowering you from the crashing waves, whispering darkly against your lips.

“We haven’t even started.”

Releasing you, and you were already turning around, meeting Seokjin’s gaze and his panting smile, kissing it, sighing contentedly in his touch, just something about those lips and his large frame surrounding you, something about the way he shivered when you sucked his breath away and drank it, almost innocent, but not that innocent, because the second your wandering hand found the condom on the sofa and pressed it into his palm, his lips curved into a teasing grin, nipping at yours.

“Already?” he teased.

You reached between you and him, fingers ghosting his length, smirking at Seokjin’s gasp, gazing at him under your lashes.

“You get hard from kisses, Seokjinnie.”

“I – gah, d-don’t…”

But he didn’t mean it, of course not, because he was humping your hand that was closing around his hot, hardening cock, stroking him slowly from base to tip, spreading the pre-cum over the sensitive head, his jaw clenching at the feeling, desire and need clouding his eyes, pupils blown-out, ripping open the foil packet, heavier exhales, staring into your eyes.

“You want to look at me that bad, huh?” he breathed against your lips, fishing for it.

You gave it to him, exactly what he wanted.

“Mhm, Seokjin, I want to look at your handsome, perfect face while you fuck my pussy and Namjoon fucks my ass.”

He sucked in a breath, caught in his throat.

“You’re crazy, but so, so hot.”

Eh, you’ll take it.

You moved your hand and he rolled the condom down, yelping as you captured his lips again, addicted to his kiss and his soft cries, his hand and your hand guiding his stiff cock to your quivering pussy, already saturated with slickness, spread knees and lowering body, sinking down onto him, moaning into his mouth and he moaned into your throat, suffocating each other with your noises, rolling your hips and breaking the kiss, both of your faces pointed to heaven with the true heaven between your connected hips, pleasure at being filled and doing the filling, his hands on your ass to push you down.

“Hyung, spread her ass,” Namjoon ordered behind you.

You pitched forward slightly, wrapping your arms around Seokjin’s shoulders, gasping as you felt him tug outwards, sinking his fingers into your softness, your lips pressed to his cheek, his sweet voice murmuring your name, filling you with warmth despite being exposed so vulnerably.

You inhaled deeply, breathing in Seokjin’s clean scent.

Then you flexed your asshole, tightening and relaxing the ring of muscle.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy.”

You gazed at him in your periphery, eyes widening as you realized Namjoon too was naked now, muscular body towering behind you, flicking open a bottle of lube and spreading it over his fingers, rubbing them together as they became shiny and slippery, catching your interested expression.

He smirked, dimple on display. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready since I walked in the door, Namjoon,” you smirked back, enamored with his seductive dark brown eyes.

He chuckled.

“Nah, you were ready the second Seokjin challenged you and said you couldn’t do it.”

Oops, he got ya.

You gasped hotly, feeling his fingers press up against your tight hole, tracing circles and teasing you, pushing into your ass in the opposing rhythm of Seokjin’s rocking hips, your hold on Seokjin’s shoulders tightening, hearing him gasp with you, watching two Namjoon’s fingers dip in and snake into the tightness, both of them inhaling sharply at the sound, wet squelch and your wanton cry, your hips rocking into it, pleasure shimmering all over.

“T-That’s still not a dick,” Seokjin managed to get out, still stubborn but mixed with awe regardless.

“Gotta stretch her out,” Namjoon chuckled. “Don’t wanna hurt our good girl, right?”

Well, if you weren’t in euphoria before, you definitely were there now.

“N… Namjoon-ah…”

“Shh, I got you, just enjoy.”

You arched your back a little more, Seokjin sliding down to accommodate, slowly thrusting and gasping at the sensation, turning to him and intense kisses, needing to occupy your mouth, fullness in your ass and your pussy, whimpering as your felt Namjoon’s fingers flex, nudging your muscles to relax, core throbbing, clenching around Seokjin’s stiff length instead, so good, oh, yes, it was so good, his kisses and slapping your hips down, wanting more, already chasing more, intoxicated by the feeling of both your holes being filled.

You heard the bottle of lube fall to the floor and the slick sound of hand on hardness.

Shivers up and down your spine.

“Say it.”

You broke Seokjin’s kiss, gasping.

“Tell us that you want it,” Namjoon growled.

Drunk on the idea, commanded by lust.

“P-Please, Namjoon…” you breathed, eyes hazy and half-lidded, staring at Seokjin. “Want you to fuck my ass as Seokjin fucks my pussy. Want you two to ruin me.”

The brown eyes beneath you widened, mouthing, you’re crazy.

You grinned, Namjoon’s fingers buried in your ass.

“Told you, hyung.”

His fingers pulled out, pushing the small of your back down with his palm. One a second to mourn the loss and then your eyes widened, the thick head of Namjoon’s cock pressed against your ass.

Wait, maybe you should have asked if Namjoon could be in your puss–

Too late.

“Oh, f-fuck!”

You clutched Seokjin’s shoulders, digging your nails into him as slowly, carefully, Namjoon’s girth entered your tight, tight hole, still tight even through he worked you up and stretched you out, the lube helping him slip inside, your mind going blank, realizing that maybe you went over your head a little, but too far to turn back and, to be honest, you didn’t want to turn back, the fullness already too good to regret it, gasping as Namjoon gripped your hips, holding you completely still as he bottomed out, hot breath on your shoulder blades.

Well.

Your mind wasn’t so blank that you forgot to speak.

“Still…” you panted, slowly grinning at Seokjin’s shocked and stunned face, his jaw dropped as he felt and witnessed it. “Think it’s impossible for me to take dick in both holes?”

“Y-Y-You…” he sputtered, choking a little as Namjoon began to move, his scrambled words mixing with your lustful moans. “Are absurd.”

It was almost too much, but Namjoon did not let you command the pace, instead firmly keeping you in one spot as he nudged Seokjin to move, guiding you both expertly, groaning when you pulsated around the two dicks, able to feel the reverberations from the closeness, body to body to body, trembling from the overwhelming sensation, Seokjin thrusting up from below, his handsome face tense, panting with effort.

“Oh, fuck… it’s so tight… fuck, I can feel it, I can feel his dick fucking your ass, that’s so weird…”

You weren’t quite sure what he expected to feel. What did Seokjin originally think he was getting into when he called you? He was the one who had been touting their superior size! What did he think it would feel like–?!

“A-Ah, y-yes, there, like that, oh f-fuck, like thaaaaaaat…”

You forgot about questioning Seokjin’s brain, refocusing on the feeling of the consistent thrusting and depth of the two cocks, an almost melodic rhythm and substantial fullness. There was a sweet spot, right, oh, there, Namjoon’s hand flat against your back, his deep grunts of effort paired with each smack of hips to ass and Seokjin’s crotch to yours.

Oh, huh, were those loud, pitched moans resonating off the apartment walls you? But the ecstasy too high, too real, too good, so good that you seemed to forget that it was already very late at night.

Surely their neighbors would complain – was that part of your brand now? oops – but it seemed that neither Seokjin or Namjoon noticed or cared, pants and moans and groans and chasing carnal pleasure, irrational, wild, heads thrown back, lashes fluttering and lost in bliss, stuffing your tight, wet heat from both holes, kissing Seokjin sloppily before turning your head to make out with Namjoon, his teeth trapping your tongue and sucking on it, gargled moan and shaking body at the mercy of his iron grip, snapping back to Seokjin’s pillowy lips, juxtaposition of hard and soft, crashing pleasure and coiled constriction, letting go, orgasm overtaking you in shudders, not realizing you had been so close, their names falling from your throat between fucked-out, loud, blissful cries.

“Seokjin… Namjoon…”

Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but peak in that gratifying elation, shivers up and down your spine, the lower half of your body throbbing and trembling, chin lowering only to witness Seokjin shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw, groaning out your name as he shot into the condom, jerking cock twitching inside you, vibrating front to back, no, that was Namjoon’s low hiss of your name, his fingernails digging in your hips he shot into your ass, your eyes snapping open, thick spurts of his orgasm so strong that you could feel his cock twitching deep inside, your pulse roaring in your ears, chest heaving, struggling for breath.

Feeling far too proud that they both came with you.

Namjoon’s sweaty chest hit your back, sandwiching you between that big body and Seokjin’s broad shoulders. Seokjin looked to be two seconds away from passing out from the ecstasy of orgasm.

Nice.

“Don’t… question me… again,” you snickered, panting heavily.

Seokjin mumbled and shrugged, incoherent.

“I think he’s saying you could do this, but not the reverse of him in the ass and me in the pussy,” Namjoon clarified, kissing your shoulders with an amused chuckle.

“What?!” you roared.

“That’s n-not…!”

Welp.

“We still have unfinished business.”

“Yoongi, I just got DP’ed last night. Have mercy.”

“Mmm.”

Kisses on your neck, lowering the strap of your bra, wrapping his arms around you, purring your name.

“I guess you can buy me dinner and we can watch a movie instead.”

“I have to buy?!”

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #namjin smut #bts smut #ot7 x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin smut #namjoon smut #seokjin x you #namjoon x you #yoongi smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you

1K notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 3 years

Text

The Nightmare Curse - Chapter Six

A Supernatural Novella

~ Hit by a devastating curse, Y/N is forced to live out her darkest nightmares on a loop. Can Dean and Sam wake her before there’s nothing left to wake? ~

All Warnings Listed on the Masterlist

The Nightmare Curse Series Masterlist ~ Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Become a Patreon ~ RebekahJordan.com ~ Published Works ~ Buy Me A Coffee

“Damnit, Cas! Pick up your fucking phone!”

Dean threw his cell down onto the floor boards, nearly wrecking it against the passenger door. Eyes back on the road, he pressed his foot down until it could go no further, forcing the Impala to fly down the highway.

Tail lights zoomed past them, fading into the background.

He looked into the mirror and found Sam’s worried gaze staring back.

“Text him again. We need him.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, he’s not answering.”

“I know that!”

A hard palm cracked down on the steering wheel and the car swerved a bit into the left lane.

“Whoa!”

Dean took a breath and calmed himself enough to stay in between the white lines. “How is she?” He craned his neck to see her, but she was too far down, lying helpless in the backseat, head in Sam’s lap.

Sam shrugged. “The same. She’s dreaming.”

“How can you tell?”

“Her eyes are moving and she’s twitching a lot.”

Dean bit down hard on his tongue. “Doing that shaking thing still?”

Sam nodded in the mirror. “Every few minutes, yeah.” He paused, taking a breath as he ran a hand over Y/N’s forehead. “Dean, she’s…”

“What?”

“She’s burning up.”

It began and ended with pain.

Every single breath was agony as the torch was repeatedly lowered to her exposed skin. The bottoms of her feet were singed, her skin cooked beyond recognition, and the higher the flame rose, the more she felt like giving up.

“Tell me where they are!”

Mary Winchester’s tiny voice became as big as the pain, ringing through Y/N’s head as it lolled to the side. Her chin caught on her right shoulder and Y/N sucked in a deep breath, ready to fight back with whatever she had left.

It wasn’t much.

Tied to a steel chair, her arms and legs were locked in place. All she could do was lift her hips, shake her shoulders, turn her face to the ceiling and scream for mercy.

None ever came.

“Fuck you,” she spat, trying to sound as tough as she had the first dozen times she’d cursed her captor. “You think I’m going to give you anything, you’re insane.”

Mary shook her head slowly and lowered the blow torch to Y/N’s naked arm. The flame hovered above, but her body already screamed for release. The heat was too much to stand.

“You’re going to tell me where my boys are,” Mary said calmly, the darkness in her eyes betraying her kind expression. “Or I’m going to kill you.”

Y/N sneered at the pain and the woman she’d grown to despise over the years. “Your boys?” she mocked with a laugh. “Just because you gave birth to someone doesn’t make them your anything. They hate you. You’re dead to them.”

Mary flinched but held her horrid gaze. “Just as you’re about to be.” Her smile was sickening; she enjoyed her new job, torturing her son’s lover, murdering any Hunter the British Men of Letters sent her way. She was a monster now, just as sure as she always had been.

The flame dropped and Y/N’s flesh bubbled. She clenched her jaw and gathered her strength, trying to hide inside of herself, to hide from the pain.

There was nowhere to hide.

Her screams ripped through the sterile room as Mary drew a crude heart on Y/N’s arm with the torch. It bled and cauterized in the same second, her body now scarred forever.

She could feel her body giving up; her head was spinning, her eyes locked on Mary’s sinister grin.

“W-why are you doing this to me?”

The blonde stood back and cocked her head curiously. The torch burned blue in her hand. Her jaw dropped and closed as she tried to find an answer, but her eyes were blank, her thoughts void of reason.

“Because she was told to.”

A crisp, accented baritone cut through Y/N’s pained groans, and she looked up to see pure evil had come to play.

Ketch stood in the doorway, his blue suit pressed to perfection, manicure hands held at his sides. He gazed at the scene and gave Mary an approving nod.

“Well done,” he praised blandly, ignoring Y/N. “Has she given us what we need?”

Mary shook her head, still toying with the torch. “Not yet.” She cranked the knob and the flames shot higher, burning hotter than before.

Y/N held her breath.

“Perhaps, we should try some… other forms of interrogation.” Thin lips curled into a dastardly smile and Ketch stepped up to the metal chair, looking Y/N over as if she were a test dummy, a specimen to be dissected.

Begrudgingly, Mary turned off the flame.

“Please. Just let me go,” Y/N begged, trying to catch his eye, to make him see that she was a human being and not some glob of flesh that could be cut and made to bleed without consequence. “I don’t know where they are. Sam and Dean- they- they left me. I don’t know where they were going. I don’t know anything. Please.” She reached for Ketch with desperate fingers, unable to move more than her hand. She brushed against his leg and he turned, glaring at her.

“You know more than you think,” he said, retrieving a scalpel from the tray of instruments behind the chair. He turned it carefully in his hand so that the fluorescent lights above could dance on the deadly edge. “And you will tell us.” There was no threat in his voice then, as if it were a foregone fact.

“Please-”

The blade sliced through her cheek as if her skin were made of tissue paper. She felt the sting and the quick, wet slosh of blood as it leaked out, dripping down her face. She clenched her teeth, screwed her eyes shut tight and refused to make a sound.

Again, the knife swept across her flesh, this time opening a shallow gash beneath her chin. Not enough to kill her, but enough to let her feel the rush of life flowing freely from her body.

Y/N’s head swayed as the energy left her.

The back of Ketch’s hand knocked her head to the side with a forceful slap.

Scarlet spilled from her lips onto the once pristine white floor.

Another crack and his knuckles buried deep into her face. Blood pooled beneath the surface and her skin swelled instantly.

“Don’t- please-”

A final blow sent her into darkness and Ketch’s evil stare was the last thing she saw.

Hours flew by and a tugging on her wrist woke her. She blinked into the brightness to see bright green eyes and a dark beard in her face. He spoke to her but her ears rang too loud for his voice to cut through, and she stared, confused as Mick released her bonds.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said again, finally breaking through the damage in her eardrums. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

He carried her until she could stand on her own, out of the bright room and into the dark, steel laden corridors of the compound. His hand was tight around hers, practically dragging her through the maze towards safety.

Out of breath, she paused as they turned a corner.

“Why are you helping me? You’re one of them.”

Mick turned, worry painting his handsome face. He took a moment to catch his breath and looked down at the ground. “I need to do one good thing in my life before I die.” His voice was caked in remorse, crackling as he looked back up and into her eyes. “Saving you has to be it.”

Y/N nodded silently, not wanting to add to his pain. She smiled sweetly and reached for him with a broken hand, gently touching his cheek.

“Thank you.” She pushed forward and lay a kiss on the corner of his mouth, a tender prize for setting her free.

Mick pulled in a deep breath, drinking her in. His right hand rose to cradle the back of her head and before Y/N knew what was happening, he was kissing her, slow and warm, with an urgency behind it that would never be fulfilled.

She smiled as he let her go and for a brief moment, so did he.

“We should get going,” he said with a sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

“Lead the way.”

Slightly stunned by the sweetness of his lips, Y/N lingered a step behind as Mick turned the next corner. Her hand slipped from his and a loud crack shook the world.

She stepped into the hall and Mick dropped to the floor, blood pouring from a bullet hole between his eyes.

Ketch held his ground a few feet away, his gun still smoking and now aimed at Y/N.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he said simply, pulling another bullet into the chamber.

“You piece of shit. I hope you rot in Hell forever,” she growled, fists balled, eyes wet as she looked down at Mick’s limp form.

Ketch exhaled slowly and tipped his head to the side, eyeing his prey. “I’m sure we’ll see each other there.”

He pulled the trigger and her light went out for good.

TNC Tags: @440mxs-wife @smellingofpoetry @idblamekate

2021 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bellarkeisbeautiful @binxy @b-i-t-c-h-i-e @bobbysxidgits @broiderie @bun-dpdbny @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @justcallmeasmodeus @katbratsupernaturalwhore @katelynw93 @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @lilithhellfire @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @multifan-smc @pandaxo79 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

#spn fanfic #angst #horror #series #dean winchester #sam winchester

60 notes · View notes

itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if it’s too much to ask, but when you’re done with all your requests, can you please do a part 2 of getting to know you?❤️

Hello darling!💕 Thank you for the request and I’m so sorry it took me so long; I was waiting for Cherry to come out to write this and I also have time to finally write. I hope you like it!💕 *CHERRY SPOLIERS*

A/n: Hello my loves! I just wanted to say that these kind of fics are the closest I will get to writing for Cherry. I will not be writing about the characters in the story, I will only be writing about the filming process, working with Tom, etc. Now that I mentioned that, I wanted to let you all know that this is going to be a bit more of a happier fic! I see a lot of people writing about the hard parts of filming Cherry so I thought why not have a little fun one? I’m sure they had some laughs on set, I briefly remember Ciara and Tom mentioning it. But yeah that’s all, enjoy the fic! Ally xx

💌.

I’m Really Happy You’re Here

(GIF @thollandgifs )

Tom watched you from a distance. From where he was, he could hear the sound of your bubbly laugh and see that bright smile on your face. Your smile was contagious. The way your eyes crinkled at the ends and how your smile squished into your cheeks was something he’s grown fond of over the past eight weeks. Though the difference from the previous weeks was that your cheeks were fuller and the bleak expressions of Emily did not shadow your face anymore.

The last eight weeks of filming have been rough. Both on you and him, along with the rest of the cast and crew. Having to begin filming with the ‘Dope Life’ section of the movie was not a pleasant way of starting a months long project. He felt drained after every shoot, spending his time on set crying, kicking, and screaming. Not to mention he was also starving himself to enhance the ‘druggy’ look on his features. After those eight weeks they had to transition into the part of Cherry’s life where he’s falling in love with Emily. The transition from being an addict to becoming a lovesick college student was a tricky one for Tom. The sudden switch in the film’s dynamic, made Tom doubt himself. From the intense scenes and screaming to being all loving and sweet, he was self-conscious that he was not doing enough. Though you were quick to debunk his doubts. You kept your promise of being there for him and gave him the freedom to be vulnerable. You didn’t judge him, you listened to him ramble and understood the struggles he was facing. Because of this, you helped him through the transition of druggy to lovesick college student.

It wasn’t hard to act like he was falling in love you. You have been so supportive and patient with him during the previous weeks that he’s grown to adore you. On and off set you made sure he knew you were not only his co-worker but his friend. When he had a rough day, you were there to pick him up. Or that one time when he had a bit of a panic attack and you were instantly by his side to guide him out of it. There were many reasons as to why you are so dear to him, he could have gone on for days listing them. But overall, it was your lovable nature that lured him in since the very beginning he’s met you.

He felt like Cherry in that one scene you guys shot in the classroom. The one where he’s gazing at Emily and admiring her features. Except you didn’t stare back at him, instead you were having a very animated conversation with your makeup artist and one of the stylists. You were dressed in Emily’s clothes, white stockings, a jean skirt, and that cherry pink jacket with flowers embroidered onto it. He thought you looked so adorable and carefree kicking around leaves with your brown ankle boots and playfully swinging your arms around. Tom felt his lips unconsciously twitch upwards at the sight of you.

Harry, who had been eyeing his older brother, nudged him roughly. Tom whips around to look at him, sending him a glare for rudely interrupting his train of thought.

“What?” Tom hissed.

Harry smirked, motioning to you, “(Y/n) looks really pretty today.” Tom distinctly squints an eye at Harry before looking over his shoulder. The glare for his brother softening once you come into view.

“I mean, doesn’t she always? She’s a beautiful woman.”

“And you’re absolutely whipped.” Harry remarked with a smug grin on his face.

“So I can’t call someone beautiful without being absolutely whipped for them now?” Tom retorted crossing his arms. Harry raised his hands up defensively, “You can mate, chill. I’m just saying that because you’re literally staring at her with a stupid love haze in your eyes.”

“No I’m not.” Tom scoffed, hoping to get his brother off his case. Harry stared at him blankly and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, they want you on your mark.”

The filming location was a secluded park located somewhere in Cleveland. The park was set up to appear as a cemetery, gray gravestones were placed on the ground and gothic statues scattered the place. The scene was supposed to be a meaningful one for Cherry and Emily. Emily was going to be telling Cherry about her abusive father and he was going to tell her he loved her.

Tom sat on the grass and leaned against the stone statue where his mark was located. He looked around his surroundings in curiosity. A few feet away from him was the crew, the Russos, and a tent that sheltered the monitors. He breathed in, wallowing in the crisp air of Cleveland’s autumn weather. It was a bit chilly, but not to the point where you were shivering and left with chattering teeth. The vintage looking jacket he was given and the black beanie on his head was enough to keep him warm. His eyes continued to wander around the park, shifting along the trees and studying the clusters of yellow and orange.

“Hey you.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet murmurs of nature and the crew surrounding him. Tom’s eyes instantly set themselves upon your figure, their focus on you and only you. The trees and cameras behind you faded in the background. His gaze followed your figure as you moved to sit beside him.

“Hey.” His voice is soft making you hum in response. Being the gentleman he was, Tom held out his hand to help you sit on the ground. You quietly thank him. He watches as you rest your head against the stone and shut your eyes.

“Still sleepy?” He chuckles nudging your shoulder. You giggle along, lazily nodding. Your eyes open again and he’s met with your stunning (eye color) orbs. They were bright and filled with joy even though you were clearly tired.

You turn your head to the side to face him, “I barely got any sleep last night.”

Tom’s brows drew together in concern, “Why didn’t you get any sleep?”

“I may or may not have watched The Nun by myself last night.” You cringed. Tom let out a dramatic gasp, “Darling, why would you do that to yourself?”

“I was bored and I couldn’t find anything else to watch. I thought watching a horror movie would be a good idea, but I was wrong.” You explained, shaking your head at yourself. You breathed out a laugh, remembering how terrified you were the night before.

Tom joined you, also shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ask Harry and I to join? We could’ve watched it for movie night. Then you wouldn’t have to be alone and you’d have two body guards to protect you from the scary nun.” He teased you poking your side. You squeaked and swatted his finger away.

“You guys were going out for dinner. I thought you might want to have some quality time with your brother.” You stifled a yawn, your nose scrunching after, making Tom pout at your sleepy state. He glanced in front of him to see everyone still occupied in side conversations. The Russos were haunched behind the tent discussing things about the scene.

Tom turns back to you and motions to his lap. You give him a questioning look. You glance at his lap, not completely understanding him. Tom followed your stare, realizing that you were probably getting the wrong message.

“Oh! No—I meant that you could sleep on my lap or something. I don’t think we’re gonna start filming for a few more minutes, so I thought you might want to squeeze in a little nap.” He explained, words jumbling together in panic. Your heart swelled at how sweet Tom was.

The two of you were silent, staring at each other before bursting out in laughter. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, fingers holding his temples, “God, I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.”

You chuckled resting your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you had good intentions.” When your laughs die down, you look up at him. “Does your offer for the nap still stand? I think I can use it.”

“Of course it does.” Tom shifts so there’s space on his thigh for you to rest your head on. He helps you lay down, fixing your hair so it’s not in your face. He leaves a hand to play with the strands, mesmerized at how luscious it was. He notices that he’s probably invading your space and pulls his hand away, apologizing.

You make a noise of disagreement, pulling his hand back. “It’s ok, feels nice.” You mumble, eyes closing and a content expression on your face. Tom played with your hair; being careful to not tangle any strands or pull on them too hard. He couldn’t help but study your features. To name a few, he took the time to memorize the way your lashes brushed against your cheeks, the shape of your nose, and the curve of your lips. Your lips. They looked remarkably soft and had a tint of pink to them. Tom found his eyes flickering down at your lips the most than your other features.

He was so caught up in admiring you that he didn’t notice the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m really happy you’re here.”

Your eyes snap open dancing with amusement. A toothy grin forms on your mouth.

“Did you just quote the movie?” You question him, referring to the previous scene you were both shooting a couple of days ago. Tom becomes flustered, the blood rushing to his fair cheeks.

“Yes, shut up.” He muttered, bouncing his thigh, causing your head to loll to the side. You giggle elbowing his stomach. “Well were you practicing your lines? ‘Cause they’re for the wrong scene, Tommy.” You tease him.

Tom playfully rolls his eyes and looks down at you. His hands were still tangled in your hair, the soft strands like silk in between his fingers. “No, I know that—but I’m serious. I’m really happy you’re here with me. I know I’ve told you this so many times but I can’t imagine filming this movie with anyone else. And you’ve been so loyal and trusting, I feel so comfortable with you. You’ve always had my back and I’m really thankful for that. So thank you for—being you.”

You give him a lopsided grin, “You know, you don’t have to always thank me. We made a promise to always have each other’s back. I’m one to keep my word but at the same time you’re my friend, Tom. I’m not being nice to fulfill a promise, I genuinely care about you.” Tom beams while you continue.

“It honestly goes both ways, I should also be thanking you. The beginning of filming was very taxing and somehow you’ve made it bearable for me to come into work not worrying about losing my shit on everyone. So thank you, Tom.” You finish, reaching out to interlock your fingers with his free hand.

Tom sighs happily, “I guess we’re just happy to have each other, huh?”

“Yeah.” You agree, eyes trained on the way his giant hand enveloped yours. A peaceful silence lays upon the both of you. The melody of birds chirping and the sound of Tom’s breathing fill the air as you drift off to sleep.

Bonus:

Tom feels your hand loosen in his grip, your interlocked fingers resting on your stomach. He felt your stomach steadily raising up and down to the pace of your breathing. His hands remained where they were; one playing with your hair and the other holding one of your hands.

Joe approaches the both of you, gesturing to the position you and Tom were in. Though you were unaware, napping on Tom’s lap.

“Is this how you guys want to film the scene? We were gonna have you sitting beside each other instead.” Joe stood above you and Tom with his hands on his hips.

“I think this is actually better—don’t get me wrong, sitting beside each other and cuddling is pretty affectionate. But I think having someone rest their head on your lap is another level of intimacy.” Tom reasoned. He wanted to extend the amount of time you could ‘nap’ but he also thought the scene would be much better if your head was cradled on his lap. Personally, he believed it would show the audience how comfortable Cherry and Emily were with each other.

Joe nods his head, “Yeah, I get what you mean. I think I like that better, to be honest. What do you think, (Y/n)? Is Tom’s lap comfortable enough for you to shoot a few scenes on?” Joe asks, teasing you towards the end. He’s met with no response. He raises a brow at you, “Is she asleep?”

“Yup, long night.” Tom chuckled, running his hand through your hair soothingly.

Joe chuckles as well, “Is she all good though?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She just watched The Nun by herself and couldn’t catch any sleep after.” Tom reassured him.

“Ahh, alright.” Joe snickers, moving to make his way back to the crew. “She’s got a good 10 to 15 minutes to squeeze in a nap, monitors are acting up.”

“Gotcha’ boss.” Tom mentally notes, resuming to bask in the nature around him and your presence.

Tags:

Tom Holland Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @xxstrangegirlxxx @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland drabble #Cherry #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland headcanon #ally’s requests #tom stanley holland #tom holland imagine

262 notes · View notes

vixenpen · 4 years

Note

Okay so I got a idea. Can you do a scenario with Kirishima and bakugou (separately) were they are famous 18+ asmr artists. And when they get to the spicy parts the actually have you there. So there basically fucking you while recording. And things get really nasty

Bruh...this idea is so fucking hot to meee like, could you imagine??!?!?

ASMR Boyfriend (+18)

(Art by: @sakimichan )

“I hope you know how special you are, and how much you mean to me,” your boyfriend held your gaze. “You deserve all this and more, and if you ever doubt how I feel about you, I’ll make sure to correct that. Understand?”

You bit your bottom lip to avoid saying: ‘yes.’

Today’s episode was a Valentine’s Day livestream special which meant big bucks for you and your ASMRtist boyfriend, Eijirou Kirishima’s, date tonight.

Your role was tech support and...sound affects. You were supposed to be monitoring the chat to make sure everything was going well, but the way your boyfriend’s ruby eyes were boring into your own lustfully, had your full attention. It didn’t help that his voice had dropped an octave becoming heavy and sensual.

The comments were going crazy.

Yes daddy. Ily 💕

🥺🥺🥺

😍😍😍

Big daddy EJ loves me

“Let me show you what I mean, Pebbles.” He curled a single finger and winked, blowing a long strand of red hair out of his face.

You damn near tripped over the chords littering the floor to straddle his lap.

Kirishima chuckled, catching you by your ass and gripping it gently.

He kissed you softly eliciting a hum from you. Listening to your boyfriend flirt and seduce for thirty minutes straight all while giving you the deepest bedroom eyes he could muster always had you ready to go. Today was no different as he had been laying it on extra thick.

“Do you love me?” He asked, biting your lip.

Despite yourself, a small ‘mhmm’ slipped out.

He held your hips tight and ground you on to his clothed erection.

“Can you feel how much I love you?” He asked, eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

Before you could answer, his hands dipped beneath your shorts and stroked the heat building between your legs.

“Cuz I can definitely feel how much you love me.”

You moaned. Kirishima brought the mic closer. He pushed the material of your panties out of the way and hissed at the sensation of your cream coating his fingers.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby doll.”

I can’t either so hurry up and do it.

You thought to yourself, impatiently.

You ground into your boyfriend’s erection for some relief. The moans and smacks of your tongues colliding with one another grew more feverish.

The chat was going off like crazy as hundreds of horny listeners expressed their desires.

“Wanna taste you,” Kirishima managed to murmur as he whipped off your shirt.

His own shirt followed. You took in his perfectly sculpted physique bulging and flexing with muscle. He gave you a sharp toothed grin and you stifled a giggle.

“You’re so fucking cute, Pebbles.” He tapped your nose. “My sweet doll.”

Kirishima worked your shorts and panties down your hips.

His eyes dipped to the desire between your legs and his tongue slithered across his lips.

When his mouth descended on your hot sex, you stopped holding back, and let out a breathy scream.

“Taste just as good as you look, baby doll.”

“Oh god, Eiji.” You sighed as your boyfriend’s tongue massaged your folds and flicked at your clit.

He slipped his fingers in and out of your sex and lapped up your cum.

“Do you love me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you sighed quietly.

“Hmm?” He stroked into your gripping pussy harder.

“Yesss.” You replied, louder this time.

“I can’t hear you, Pebbles.” He stuffed two of his fingers, slick with your juice into your mouth and hoisted himself up over you.

Chest heaving, you watched as he pulled his thick, veiny member out of the jeans he had been wearing.

Without warning, Kirishima held your gaze and pummeled into you deep and hard, sending your back arching off the couch.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” He ground out, punctuating each word with a hard, deep stroke.

Your loud wails of: “Oh god! Yes, yes, yesss,” overlapped with the question.

The chat was singing like crazy as donations and comments poured in. However, it could barely be heard over the slapping and screaming of you and Kirishima’s sex.

As the chat went off in the background, your boyfriend lowered his lips to your ear and in a voice meant only for you said: “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby, we’ll have a real date tonight. I love you.”

“You can’t take it when I tease you, huh, brat?”

SMACK!

The thick leather kissed your bare ass, drawing out a whimper from you.

Bakugo chuckled. His crimson eyes met yours in the mirror set up across from his work station. Ever since you two had decided to spice up his ASMR streams, he had installed those cameras as a little extra incentive.

It just made the experience all the more hot.

“Look at you,” he chuckled, digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you back against the hard on poking through his black jeans. “Is this punishment or pleasure?”

He spanked you again. You jumped.

“Hard to tell when you’re giving me that desperate look. You slutty little brat.”

His nails ranked down your back. A long his of pleasure and pain escaped through your teeth and you arched in response.

“You like this way too much, don’t you?” He asked, a hint of sincerity slipping through in the question.

“Maybe I’ll just leave you here like this.” He jeered. “Let you just sit here. like the horny little brat you are.”

He stepped away from you, eying your round ass bent over before him lustfully. His grin was wicked as he gazed down at you.

You shot him a pleading look over your shoulder. You weren’t supposed to talk during his recordings until it came to the spicy parts, but sometimes Katsuki pushed it too far. You were so horny after watching him stroke his dick and talk shit for half an hour, you were this close to begging him to fuck you.

“Aww, look at you. You need daddy’s dick that bad?” He asked. “Fine, but you won’t get it that easy.”

Your sex clenched at the thought of what Katsuki had in store.

In an instant, he stood before you. He cocked his head and gave you his signature cocky smirk with an almost animalistic gleam in his red eyes that both scared and excited you.

“Suck daddy’s dick if you want it that bad.” He said in a voice so gruff and raunchy, your knees gave out.

Nimbly, you worked his angry looking flushed erection out of his pants and peppered the tip with kisses.

You kept your eyes on him as your tongue lolled out to taste every inch of his long member from top to bottom.

“Fuck yeah, babe, just like that.” He groaned, arms uncrossing to fall limply at his side.

You kept it up, stroking his dick as you juggled his heavy sack in your mouth.

“God, I love that fucking mouth of yours...”

Every praise and deep, shuddering moan went straight to your sex. You put on a show of slurping and groaning and smacking on his dick like it was a lollipop, both for the audio and to hear his cursing and shit talking babble.

“That’s it, ahh, fuck! That’s it right there.” He grabbed the back of your head and helped guide your bobbing head. “Daddy’s little freak. Nasty little slut. Fuck!”

His hips snapped forward, sack smacking your chin. You sat on your ankle and pressed down against it to offer some relief and much needed pressure to your aching clit.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby. I’m gonna cum in this filthy mouth of yours. You want that, huh? Huh?”

“Mmhmm!”

You felt Katsuki’s dick flex and with that, his hot seed burst into your mouth. With a sigh of satisfaction, your boyfriend slid out of your mouth.

He grabbed your jaw and brought you to your feet to meet him.

“Such a good girl now, aren’t you?” He smirked, brushing the dribble at the corner of your lips away with his thumb. “Guess daddy will have to reward his good girl now, won’t he?”

#asmr sounds #asmrtist #bnha imagines #my hero academia #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha smut #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #slight n/sfw #n/s/f/w #this is filth #black writers #bakugo smut #kirishima smut

768 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me

📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.

kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊

ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties

Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.

She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.

And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.

He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.

Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.

“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”

Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.

He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.

“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”

The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.

“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”

A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”

Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.

“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”

Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”

Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”

She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”

“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”

Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.

“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”

The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”

“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.

“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”

He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.

It grows from there.

It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.

Lovingly, of course.

Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time

Carlos, 16.22: ?

In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.

Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason

Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.

Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.

Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.

Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her

Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually

Carlos, 19.13: Nancy

Nancy, 19.13: carlos

Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face

Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?

Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes

Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me

Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑

(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)

(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)

Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.

“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.

“What? Why?”

“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”

TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”

TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.

“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”

That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.

“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”

“Shut up.”

In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.

They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

“What?”

“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.

Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #marjan marwani #tk strand #tarlos #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #📍 anon

59 notes · View notes

mellowswriting · 3 years

Note

Hey I saw your requests are open! I love the quarantine series! I’ve been on a Marcus pike kick lately and I’ve been super stressed about college and my work load trying to graduate😩 I’d love to hear your interpretation of Marcus when his girl is going through this cause you know he’s 💕that guy💕 - how he’d help you relax and everything... maybe even some smut if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Take a Break

pairing || Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

summary || Marcus helps you relax after college stress

word count || 2,369

warnings || Explicit Sexual Content (fingering, praise kink, soft dom!Marcus, allusions to p in v sex), stressed out reader, Marcus to the rescue, domestic fluff, ‘good girl’, no use of y/n

a/n || As a college student who is also ready to explode from school stress, this was cathartic as hell to write. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Join the taglist!

Your cursor hovered over the submit button. This research paper had been the center of your academic focus for nearly three months and had taken up the majority of your energy for far too long. Once that damn paper was submitted, you could breathe easy for a while and not have to see statistics and graphs in your sleep anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit the button, relishing in the relief that washed over you - for approximately three seconds.

There were still assignments to be worked on, textbook chapters to read and take notes on, and you just wanted to throw your laptop into the ocean instead. Fuck it all. In that moment, all of your progress and hard work and the finish line that was so damn close really didn’t seem to matter. You would rather hide under your blankets for the last month of the semester than even think about philosophy notes or biology tests.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way in hell you were going to let the last two years of hard work and a solid grade point average go down the drain, especially when you had a summer well on its way where you could relish in not having academic responsibilities. You rubbed a hand down your face with a frustrated sigh and put your textbook down on your desk - maybe just a bit harder than necessary, because the door creaked open a few moments later.

“How’s the paper going, honey?” Oh, Marcus. Your sweet, sweet Marus, who’s words were already making tears of frustration prick your eyes.

“It’s finished. I just turned it in.” You said, your voice devoid of the usual pride that followed a well-written assignment, and flipped open the book in front of you.

Marcus’s hands fell to your shoulders as he stood behind your chair and started rubbing, those strong fingers working the tension from your muscles. “What are you doing then?”

“I still have a ton of shit that needs to get done. Notes and a ton of reading, and I have to study -” You cut yourself off with a heaved breath. The stress was getting to you, you could recognize that, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety of impending deadlines, even if you still had plenty of time and wiggle room to get them finished.

Marcus paused. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this, and he wasn’t about to discount what you were feeling by telling you to relax or something else equally as stupid. “Okay, how about you come have lunch with me? You need a break. You can’t be productive when you’re burnt out. Maybe we can talk it out, help you come up with a plan.”

It took a moment for you to convince yourself that it was okay to leave your desk, to focus on something that wasn’t your classes for a little bit. When you nodded, Marcus smiled at you bright enough to melt some of the frustration. Unbeknownst to you, he had a little something planned.

If there was anything true in the world, it was that Marcus Pike was the best man the world had ever seen. The stress you were feeling had been building up for the past week, growing heavier with each moment that it went unchecked, and he could tell. It was obvious in the way you held yourself, in the way that all the sleep in the world didn’t help the tired look in your eyes. He knew he could do nothing to help with the actual classwork itself, but he could do whatever it took to ease the stress.

So the moment you essentially chained yourself to your desk, Marcus set about with his plan. First, he tackled the housework. He cleaned the kitchen and living room until they were spotless, grateful that your headphones blocked out the sound of the vacuum and kept his little project a secret. Then he cooked up your favorite meal and lit your candles in the living room, leaving the space warm and homey.

The surprise on your face was worth all of the effort. You buried your face in his shirt to hide the tears of appreciation that sprung into your eyes, your fingers fisted in the fabric as you tried not to full on cry at his sweet gesture. You sniffled a quiet laugh before you wiped the wetness away from your face.

“God, what would I do without you?” You pulled him close for a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. Those big, warm hands of his settled on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweet little circles against your cheekbones.

“I find myself asking the same thing everyday I get to wake up next to your pretty face.” He whispered against your lips and gave you one last kiss before he guided you to sit on the couch with your soft throw blanket tucked around your shoulders.

“Marcus… you didn’t have to do all this…” You murmured as he handed you a plate and settled in next to you with his own.

“Of course I did,” He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your calf. “Besides, this isn’t even everything.”

You captured his hand in your own. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus chirped with a smile, lifting your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “Now eat up, you need your energy.”

Never in your life had you felt more appreciated, more taken care of, and apparently this wasn’t all he had planned. He finished eating before you - you swear, that man practically inhales food - and he drew your feet into his lap to gently massage the arches. It didn’t take him long to ease the stress of the looming workload. Somehow, he always managed to find the perfect words to remind you just how capable you are and that you were on the right track.

You set your plate down on the coffee table and slid closer to Marcus’s side, all too ready to curl up with your lover and spend the rest of the day soaking in the bliss that flowed from him, but he was quick to stand and urge you to your feet. The moment of confusion dissipated when he led you to the bathroom, where he had laid out the makings of your favorite stress reliever - a bubble bath.

“Oh, Marcus.” You sighed as he began filling the huge tub, already stripping out of your clothes in excitement. “You better get in there with me.”

“But this is supposed to be about you, not me.” Marcus said with a small shrug.

“I’ll enjoy it even more if I have my man with me,” You purred, stepping into his space in only your bra and underwear to press a lingering kiss to his lips. The surprised hum he gave you made a little thrill fly through you. “Please, baby?”

“Anything for you.” Marcus smiled as he reached around to undo your bra and pull the straps down your arms, moving on to curl his fingers under the hem of your underwear and tug them down as well. He kissed your thigh when you moved to step out of them.

Marcus yanked his clothes off with no flair and stepped into the steaming bath, settling into the water so quickly that it damn near sloshed over the sides of the tub. He reached for you and you couldn’t help but smile. It was precious, the way he guided you into his lap amidst the bubbles and pulled you close against his chest.

Little kisses were peppered along your shoulder and up your neck, the heat already working at your sore back. Marcus’s hands slid up your belly, cupped beneath your breast to hold you close, and the combination of his presence with the heat and soft floral scent of the bubbles had your worries slipping into the background.

“I missed this.” You murmured as you melted against him, your head lolled back on his shoulder. It had been far too long since you felt peace like that. Marcus’s fingers rubbed soft patterns into your skin and you were in heaven.

“Me too,” He kissed your temple and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You looked up at him. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, his head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. “You make me feel sane in the midst of all this stress. I don’t know what I would do without your support. You’re such a good man.”

Marcus whined low in his throat. Your praise always did something to him, lit a fire in his belly and made him want to squirm with happiness. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, make you feel as cherished and loved as he possibly could, at least as much as you made him feel. Normally he was good with his words. He could wax poetic about how much he loved you and how he was the luckiest man alive with you by his side, but your sweetness left him dumbstruck.

Since his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say, he used it to lavish your bare skin with kisses as he rubbed at your tense muscles, your skin slick with the soapy water. He could feel the small moan he worked from your body and smirked - he absolutely lived for those little sounds, the ones that told him he was making you feel relaxed and happy. Your hands slipped down his thighs that bracketed your body and began mimicking the circles he massaged you with.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one helping you relax, sweetheart?” Marcus teased despite the way his cock was slowly hardening at the small of your back, only provoked further by the light drag of your nails along his thighs.

“Can you think of a better way to relax?” You teased right back as you arched back slightly to grind against him, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself. Marcus inhaled sharply and you could feel the subtle way his hips pressed up to meet your movements. Need began to build low in your belly.

“Are you sure?” Marcus rasped and at your nod, his hands slipped around to your front, one hand settling low between your hips to firmly hold you against him, the other trailing down to cup your sex. Your low gasp made him hum, a dark tone that you recognized from those moments he took you apart piece by piece in the comfort of your bed. “Are you feeling needy, baby?”

“Always need you.” You spread your thighs, bracing your feet between the sides of the tub and his legs to support your desperate little grinds against his fingers. His middle finger curled to glide up to your clit but he didn’t give you the friction you craved, that damn tease. “C’mon, make me feel good. Please?”

The desperate quality your voice had taken on was enough to make Marcus moan against your neck, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips before he whispered in your ear. “I’m gonna make you come before I get you in that bed. A little reward for all your hard work, hm?”

Before you could even whine out your need for his promised reward, he finally began moving his finger against your clit and pleasure flooded you, leaving you to meet his movements with little circles of your waist. Marcus would usually tease you at least a little before delving in and drowning you in pleasure until your legs were shaking and your mind was left blank, but he seemed to be in a giving mood after all of your efforts. Every pass of his fingers over your clit had that tension pull tighter, your pussy tightening around nothing. You ached for something to fill you, his fingers, his cock, you didn’t care. The relief of pleasure after so much stress had your release building faster than you were used to, and your hands fumbled for purchase to keep you grounded to reality as Marcus worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

One hand clutched at his wrist, desperate to keep him right where you had him, and the other found itself buried in Marcus’s hair. He angled his head to give your better access, letting you grab at him to be your anchor, kissing up your neck and placing his lips right at your ear.

“Good girl,” He rumbled, chuckling at your sweet little gasp. “Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, you are. That's it.”

“Oh god, Marcus…” You gasp in that pleading tone that made something possessive bloom in his belly and he redoubled his efforts, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Fuck!”

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the intense way you jerked against him, your orgasm cracking through you like a sharp flash of lightning, arcing and splintering up your spine and leaving you wrapped in a warm haze. You trembled against his chest, your legs snapping closed around his hand as he slowed his movements until his fingers were completely still. The warm water eased you even further into that sweet headspace of your afterglow, made more sweet by the kisses and praise your lover pressed into your skin.

“You still with me?” Marcus murmured and you looked up at him with that dazed look he absolutely adored. At the sight of your pursed lips, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and languid as he let you find yourself again. Wandering hands helped ease you back down to earth, his strong hands working at your already loose muscles. “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

You whined quietly at his praise, curling closer for more kisses and affection, only to whine again when he pulled away. “Please?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fine, but I’m getting you in that bed in a few minutes. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @sarahjkl82-blog @a-skov @himbotroy @marvelousmermaid

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction

144 notes · View notes

hold-our-destiny · 3 years

Text

5 times tony comforted Peter and the one time Peter comforted Tony

This is for @bluesweatshirt for the friendly neighborhood exchange!

(also i’m really sorry i couldn’t add in a cut off on mobile)

________________

Peter wasn't a sad person.

He wasn't too sad when his parents didn't come home from their business trip. Yeah, he was sad when Ben died- he died in front of him for god’s sake- but he didn’t show it, he sucked it up and helped May with the new struggles with money.

Peter wasn't sad, no. He was tired though.

God, he was so tired.

It had been two weeks since homecoming night and Peter was catering between not being able to sleep at all and waking up every night from nightmares.

This night was different, though.

Because for some reason… Mr Stark was in his nightmare.

It was never anyone but peter. Always Peter stuck under rubble, falling from a plane, stuck in the fire. Never anyone else so why now would it be Mr Stark?

That wasn’t exactly the first thought on his mind when he woke up.

___________

Peter woke up with a start, breath stuck in his chest, tears already escaping his eyes.

He threw the covers off him, needing to be free from the confines, before reaching for his phone.

He’s hurt, mr stark’s hurt and he can't help him- oh god he can't save him-

“Hello?” Mr Stark’s groggy voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“Mr Stark?” Peter asked, almost scared for any reply.

“Pete? You okay?” His mentor’s voice took on a new tone. Worry mixed with… something.

“Yeah, sorry, i just- I’m sorry for waking you- I’ll hang up now-”

“Peter. Are you okay?” The question made him want to cry, made him want to curl up and let it all out with how safe it made Peter feel.

“Yeah I’m-” he took a breath, “I’m fine,”

He could tell the billionaire knew he wasn’t, “Okay, well you might as well help me anyway,”

“Help you?”

“Yeah, i've been up for hours trying to figure this problem out,” He lied.

“O-okay”

The mechanic explained the problem to him, Peter letting the words wash over him, breathing through the explanation. He pretended not to notice when Mr Stark didn't ask for his thoughts, when he reminded him to breathe every now and then, just letting his words soothe the kid from the evident panic attack he’d just gone through.

God, he was so out of his element.

Maybe this was a good thing- maybe it was good for him to comfort this kid- this kid who he barely knew. Just for tonight, only tonight.

Tony was tired. No, scratch that- he was fucking exhausted.

He was pretty much ready to drop on that wednesday, ready to curl up in his king size bed and sleep for 16 hours straight.

And yeah, maybe he forgot it was lab day.

Peter walked- more like stumbled- through the lab doors, somehow racing and also shuffling to his seat, dropping his bag with a thud and sitting in his chair in almost the same manner.

Peter’s hair was messy, curls more unruly than usual, and Tony would bet that if he could see the kid’s eyes, they wouldn’t look healthy.

“Hey kid,”

No answer.

“You okay?”

A delay, then a slight nod. Peter still hadn’t put anything in front of him, just simply sitting at the desk.

“You wanna skip lab day today?”

Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide and concerned. And yeah, Tony was right, he had dark bags under his eyes.

“What? Is something wrong? Do you need me to leave?” Tony raised a hand to stop him.

“No- no- I mean more like…” He didn’t know how he was going to say this, “I’m pretty tired right now, do you wanna just order a pizza and chill out on the couch?”

Peter looked at him suspiciously, before nodding, already getting up and heading to the other room.

Yeah, tony thought to himself, you’re doing okay

______--

Peter was passed out on the couch within 5 minutes, remote laying in his limp hand and head lolled to the side awkwardly.

Tony brought the pizza in, setting the boxes down on the coffee table and gently shook Peter awake.

“Hey, kid,” He whispered as Peter woke up, matching the tone to the dark room, “You wanna have something to eat? Or at least get into more of a comfortable position,”

Peter nodded groggily, sitting up so Tony could sit next to him, legs touching as Peter moved closer. Tony raised his arm up and around the back of the couch, resting on the teenager’s shoulders and allowing him to relax into the billionaire.

Tony put a random star wars film on the tv, letting it drift into background noise as the kid fell asleep next to him.

For years, Tony had been scared of fucking a future kid up, becoming his father and eventually pushing everyone away. Somehow, now, his fears have receded, his mind reassuring him repeatedly.

He trusts you. You’re doing okay.

Peter woke up under rubble.

No, no, this wasn’t a nightmare. The air was too thick, dust invading his airways. He choked on it as he took a breath. It was too dark, way too dark, the rocks were crushing him, piercing his skin in multiple places. He groaned with the weight, reaching for his watch instinctively.

He pressed the side button three times, letting red light illuminate his surroundings and trying to breathe with the rubble pushing down on his chest.

His watch lit up blue, and Tony’s voice started speaking through it.

“Peter? Pete- you there?”

“Y-yeah I’m here” He choked out, a waver in his voice.

“Okay, how are you feeling, kid?”

“I- The rubble- it’s crushing me- i can’t-” His breath started to speed up at the reminder, panic invading his senses.

“Kid- kid! You gotta calm down, okay? We’re getting you out now, i promise- we’re gunna get you out real soon- but you gotta calm down for us to do that, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breaths. His memories were resurfacing much quicker than he could cope with and Tony’s voice was only helping slightly. Peter didn’t know what he was saying, letting the noises meld together in his mind as he calmed himself.

After a few minutes- or hours, he didn’t know- he’d calmed down somewhat, finally able to focus on the voice coming out of his watch.

“We’re getting you out of there now, kid. You’re doing so good for me, Pete- just keep breathing for me, okay?”

With the panic receding now, Peter was much more aware of his surroundings. He was also aware of the fact that his brain was slowing down, unable to process things as quickly as he normally could. There was a reason for that in the back of his mind but he couldn’t reach it.

There was something wet underneath him, soaking up into his clothes, he didn’t like that. He wanted to move away from it but only made it hurt worse when he tried- he cried out in pain.

“T-tony!”

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line- “Yeah, pete? You okay?- what’s happening?”

“T’ny- t- tony! T’y please- g’t me out- please- please- i- i can’t-”

“Peter- what’s happening?”

“H’rts- my- my chest- there’s- it’s-” The panic was back now, confusing him even more than before, “S’mthing- und’r- something wet- under me- t’ny please-”

“Shit- Peter- Pete- breathe, okay kid? Breathe for me. We’re gunna help you,”

Peter took a breath, then another, and another, steadying his heart before whimpering when the rubble shifted, “Kid, we’ve almost got you. I need you to stay awake, okay? We’re gonna get to you soon but you gotta stay awake so you can tell us if we move the wrong thing, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise again, wanting nothing more than to move away from the pain, but listening to Tony.

Tony talked again a while later, surprising Peter when he did.

“Pete? You still awake for me, bud?”

“Y-yeah im- im here,”

He heard Tony breathe out slowly, “That’s good, Pete. We’re only a few feet away from you, but the next thing we’re going to move is gunna shift some stuff, okay? Tell us if it hurts you, okay, kid?”

“Okay- I’ll tell y’u”

He waited a few seconds, hearing some movement to his side, before the rubble shifted and his legs screamed in pain. He only let out a grunt, not wanting to stop the team’s efforts, and only a moment passed before he saw his father figure knelt down beside his head, cradling it with one hand. He smiled up at him.

“T-tony-” He sobbed.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, yeah, kid, i’m here now. Sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner but I got you now, i promise. You did so good for me, bud,”

“Good?” Peter’s eyes were closing now, relishing in the relief of pain after hours of panic.

“So good, kid. I’m so proud of you for staying calm. You can sleep now, okay? Let us do the rest.”

He smiled up at his mentor again, letting his eyes close and his body relaxed as his mind gave in to the not-so-distant pull of sleep.

Tony woke up that morning to a call from midtown tech.

Of course, he was confused as to why Peter’s school would call him at midday on a random tuesday.

“Is this Tony Stark?” The caller sounded dubious- doubtful.

“Yes, it is,”

“This is Julia calling from midtown tech. Are you the emergency contact for Peter Parker?”

“One of them, yes,”

“Would you be able to pick Peter up soon?” Tony was already getting some more presentable clothes on, worried as hell.

“Yes, of course. Can I ask why?”

“To be completely honest with you, Mr Stark, I don't even know. There’s a police officer in there with him right now, and that’s all i know.”

Tony froze. A police officer could only mean two things, and Tony didn’t like either option.

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” And with that, he hung up.

Peter practically fell into his arms when he walked into the office. Tony instinctively went to cradle the back of his head as he processed everything that was happening. One of those things being that Peter was crying.

Peter was crying.

He wrapped his arms around the teenager more firmly as the police officer stepped toward them.

“Mr Stark, I’m officer Langford,” Tony nodded curtly towards him, waiting for an explanation.

“You may want to sit down for this,”

It took some time for Tony to maneuver Peter into a more comfortable position on the couch in the corner, the kid not wanting his mentor to see his face- in fear?- but they got there in the end.

The officer sat down in a chair opposite them, “I’m sorry to tell you this but this morning May Parker was involved in a car accident, she was rushed to the hospital but unfortunately, she was pronounced dead on arrival-” Peter held him slightly tighter, “We called you here because you were Peter’s second emergency contact, and in situations like these, we need a temporary home for him. If you agree, you can take him home now, and if not we can move him to a separate-” Tony held a hand up to cut him off.

He moved the hand back down to rub across Peter’s back, meant to be a soothing gesture but somehow made him more tense.

“I’ll take him now, and i can sort out the paperwork for a… longer arrangement soon,” Officer Langford nodded before wishing them well and leaving, but Tony didn’t pay any notice, his mind too caught up in what just happened.

It wasn’t caught up in May’s death, somehow in the back of his mind, he knew, he knew that police officers didn’t just show up at a kid’s school for no reason. He wouldn’t have been called if it was anything else.

No, it wasn’t caught up with that.

It was caught up with the fact that Peter- his kid, his Peter- upon hearing Tony’s agreement to take him in- he lost all tension in his body. As if he was relieved, as if he feared Tony would leave him, as if he would abandon the kid he’s grown so close to lately.

Tony couldn’t process it.

“Hey, kiddo, can you look at me please?” Peter minutely shook his head, burrowing into Tony’s shirt even closer than before. His tears had long since stopped, now just seeking comfort from the billionaire.

“We’ve gotta be clear about some stuff, okay, bud? Just a few minutes and then we can go back to whatever this is,” Tony wasn’t good at this.

But, still, Peter pulled back from their embrace, head turned down towards his legs.

“Kid-” Tony was stuck for words, “i want you to know that you can stay with me for as long as you like, okay? If it’s just for this week, for a while or if it’s for the rest of your life, okay? I need you to understand that i’m going to stick with you through all of it, anything you need from me, I’ll get it for you,” He took a breath, “You’re not alone in this,”

Peter crumpled.

As if against his own command, his body surged forward, arms clumsily reaching for his father figure, breaths coming through as gasps, head still downturned.

But still, Tony caught him.

__________

Tony took Peter back to the tower, he set him up in his room, gave him food and sent him to bed. He figured they’d deal with talking about it tomorrow, after some good sleep and a long fucking think about how Tony feels about this kid.

That went to shit at around 4am.

Tony was up on his feet before he could process the scream, legs rushing him to the only inhabited room on his floor. Pushing the door open and hoping for the worst.

He really didn’t expect to see Peter in the corner, bed sheets crumpled around his feet, breaths barely present.

He kneeled down a few feet away, unsure about whether Peter needed him close or not. But upon seeing the kid reach out a trembling hand towards him, he surged forward, pulling the teenager into his arms.

“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay, we’re safe. I’ve got you.” He repeated in hushed whispers, rocking the two of them back and forth.

It was only a few minutes later when Peter responded to him, breathing normally now, hand clutching his mentor’s shirt as he mumbled into his chest.

“Couldn’t- couldn’t save y’u- i- i can’- can’t do i’- pl’se t’ny-”

Tony hushed him.

Peter repeated the mantra for another- god, tony didn’t know how long- until tony was finally able to hush him. The billionaire carefully picked him up, walking him the few feet over to the bed and laying him down in it.

Tony hesitated by the door, before hushing his brain of all negative thoughts, turning off the light and retreating back into the teenager’s bedroom. He climbed into the bed with the kid, curling up next to him- relieved when Peter immediately turned to cling to his chest.

Slowly, he fell asleep.

To say Peter was worried about this mission was an understatement. Him and Tony were going undercover together and honestly… it was already awkward.

The thing is, Peter wouldn’t have any trouble going undercover normally but now, they were going in as father and son.

There was this guy- this villain they’d started calling the ‘poisoner’- who was targeting father and son couples, poisoning the son and leaving the father with the body until they were found. They’d tried everything to arrest the guy but… he kept getting away- going undercover was the only option- the last ditch attempt before the avengers started knocking on doors.

It was weird how Peter was more scared to act like Toy was his dad, when he could actually die if the other guy got the upper hand.

_______________

They were sat in the hotel room, waiting.

They saw the guy- the poisoner- earlier at the bar. He’d followed them all night, back to their room but… he hadn’t pushed his way in, always staying just too far away to be apprehended by Tony.

It took a few hours for there to be a knock at the door, Tony standing up and casting a quick look at Peter before going to answer it.

He opened the door to see him- the guy- the poisoner- dressed up as a waiter or something, pushing a cart in front of him.

“Can i help you?”

He smiled, “Room service, sir,” He started pushing his way past Tony.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t order room service,”

The poisoner turned around quickly as he heard the door blow shut, quickly pulling Tony into a headlock and facing Peter, who was frozen in the shock of it all.

“Now I’m going to say this one time only,” He ignored Tony struggling in his hold, pulling out a gun from his waistband, “There’s handcuffs under the cart. You’re going to cuff yourself to the bed or I’ll blow your dad’s brains out,”

Peter moved slowly, sliding off the bed and keeping his hands visible. The man was the same height as Tony and didn’t look much bigger than him. Tony should be able to get out of his hold easily- there was a reason he couldn’t- and now he had a gun to his head.

He reached under the tablecloth, feeling the cold metal and pulling out three sets of handcuffs. He moved over to the bed again, cursing the hotel for having actual bed posts, and cuffed his left wrist to the bed, laying down on it to make himself more comfortable.

The man then pushed Tony away from him, pointing the gun at Peter this time and making fear rush through him, “Now you- cuff his other hand to the bed,”

Tony hesitated, making the man cock the gun, and Tony then quickly moved towards Peter, efficiently cuffing the teenager’s wrist, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance that didn’t do much to reassure him.

“Pull the chair away from the desk,” The poisoner commanded, “And cuff your hands behind it,”

Tony did so immediately, not risking Peter’s safety again. Only once he was situated did he start talking.

“You know you’re going to regret this,” The poisoner laughed.

“You really think so, do you? I know you’ve got this room bugged, i know the avengers are probably on their way here. But I’m here to send a message,”

“And what message is that?”

He paused, pulling the lid off the metal plate he brought in on the cart, it revealed a neat line of six vials, all full of a blue liquid.

“You need to pay for what you did,”

__________

As it turns out, the poisoner doesn't actually inject the poison.

No, that would be too merciful.

Tony’s handcuffed to the chair he’s sat in, facing the bed. The same bed of which Peter, his kid, the teenager who he’d grown to care for so much in the past year or two, was handcuffed to in an ironic parallel. Father and son. Mentor and mentee. Tony, the merchant of death, destined to lead anyone he comes into contact with to a gruesome fate.

Peter happened to be that person.

Tony remembered the first few days after the fight with the rogues, how he regretted taking Peter with him, knowing he was going to ruin the kid. The few months after had only solidified that claim, and so he’d taken the suit.

There was no way he was getting out of the situation now.

The poisoner- that son of a bitch tony was going to kill as soon as he could get out of this damn chair-

The poisoner, had strapped a mask to the teenager’s head, slowly screwing in a vial of that fucking liquid on either side.

And now he was breathing it in- the gas- the poison that Tony just sat there as he’d been strapped down.

Now, Tony thought it was bad enough when he’d had all those thoughts running through his head, memories of Peter before they’d gotten to know each other, before Tony had taken him in. He thought that had been bad enough.

But no, it was so much worse when all those thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt.

Because Peter had just turned his head, linking eyes with Tony, a desperate plea moving between them.

Because Peter was scared- he looked terrified.

There were unshed tears laying in his tear ducts, enough to easily see as you looked at the kid. His lips barely visible within the mask but from what Tony could see, they were held in a strained frown, lips being bitten.

Peter moved his head towards his mentor, linking eyes with the man. And that, right there in that moment, was when the teenager let go.

“T-tony-” A sob cut him off, choked out between his lips.

“T-tony please- i can’t- i don’t-” Tony shushed him from where he was sitting.

“Kid- Pete- I-” Tony was speechless, all known reassurances dying in his throat as soon as he’d thought of them, what were you supposed to say to a kid who was dying and you couldn’t do anything about it?

“Tony- please- dad- i can’t-” that kicked his instincts into gear.

“Kid, you need to stop talking, okay? The team’s going to get here soon, they’ll get this shit out of you and you’ll be okay, then you can tell me whatever you need to when you’re better, okay?”

Peter nodded, eyes still wide with tears but he listened to the billionaire. and somehow, that made it so much worse, the kid would follow him into fire if he asked him to, and now Tony got him into this situation.

Tony wanted nothing more than to look away from what was happening, as Peter breathed in the poison, helpless to do anything, but he couldn’t not be there for the kid. He needed his father figures comfort.

“he’s right, the teams gunna get here soon, i don’t know when but we’ll get you out of this as soon as we can, and then we can spend a week watching all of the star wars movies, and the clone wars if you want, anything you want kid”

The poisoner was sat in the corner of the room, on the other bed. He was watching them, watching Tony desperately give his kid comfort without being able to touch him.

Tony looked at him, “you’re a fucking psychopath, you know that, right? he’s 16, he’s just a kid. why don’t you kill me instead if you want me to pay so much, huh?”

The poisoner chuckled, standing up to walk over to them, “If you die, you wouldn’t feel the pain i did as my kid died in front of me, i’m going to make you watch as your kid suffocates in front of you”

He got two new vials, replacing the almost empty ones. Peter’s wheezing had gotten a lot more prominent now, trying desperately to bring in air.

Tony’s always been around death, it greets him at every corner. but every time, someone else dies instead of him, or at least, they come close to it.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if Peter dies.

______________

He’d already changed to the last set of vials now, Peter's breath was barely there.

Tony was fucking terrified, obviously.

The team was close, he was sure of it, but that had been what he’d been telling himself the whole time.

They were barely minutes out by his assumptions, but he didn’t know if Peter had minutes, vials nearly empty as the liquid in them turned to gas for the teenager to breathe in, slowly suffocating him.

He was still facing Tony, eve after this long, still trusting him to save him. Even as his body could barely pull in breaths, eyes drooping, they didnt stray from his face.

“Peter, you gotta keep your eyes open, i know it’s hard, i know- but you’ve gotta stay awake for just a few more minutes. We’re gunna help you, but you just gotta stay awake,”

Peter looked at him sadly, but his eyes stayed open and Tony counted that as a win. He started to say something but Tony shushed him quickly.

“It’s okay, kid. Don’t try to talk. We’ve been over this already, you can talk to me after the team gets here- star wars marathon and everything, remember?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased inwards, and Tony’s heart dropped. Either he just forgot about that whole part of their conversation or… or…

“You just gotta stay awake for me, okay? I believe in you kid, dont let me down,”

_______________

The door seemed to explode inwards when the team got there, Tony didn’t look up.

He didn’t look up as they arrested the poisoner, Bruce and sam moving to Peter, while two others moved to get Tony out of the seat he was in.

As soon as the handcuffs were undone, he surged forward, one hand reaching for the kid’s- which now rested on the bed after being released- and the other going to rest in his curls. Tony quickly wiped the tears off the kid’s face, staying away from his mouth as the others tried to give him as much oxygen as he needed.

Peter choked on a sob when he realised Tony was there, mouth slightly upturning even as another oxygen mask was placed over his face.

“I’m here kid. I’m so proud of you for staying awake, okay?” He looked to bruce, as the man looked away from Peter’s vitals, nodding to Tony now, “You can go to sleep now, I’m so proud of you kid, it’s okay,”

Peter’s eyes didn’t leave him, even as he fell asleep.

Tony cried as he was carried away.

__________________

Peter woke up in the medbay. That was his first sign that something bad happened.

The next sign was his mentor-father-figure-dad asleep on the side of his bed.

Peter’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks lining his cheeks. Tony never cried, not even when he dropped an engine on his foot that one time. If Tony was crying now, this- whatever it was that happened- it was bad bad.

“Tony?”

Tony startled awake, as if he meant to be on guard, and took one look at the kid in front of him before reaching for Peter and bringing him into his arms.

“Oh my fucking god, kid. Holy shit, you’re okay. Oh my god-”

“Tony what happened?” Was the teenager’s muffled answer, not complaining about being smothered in his da- Tony’s shirt.

“There was this- this guy we went after- had to go undercover and he got to us and he poisoned you, kid- and i couldn't- i couldn't do anything about it- i just sat there and you- you did so good-”

Peter shushed him as the memories arose in his mind, “Tony, can i talk for a second?” He received a nod in reply, “You called the team, Tony. I didn’t, you did. They got there in time and now I’m okay, aren’t I? You did everything that you could, if anything i should've done something, I’m the one with powers here. No- i know- i couldn’t have done anything but you were there the whole time telling me to stay awake and i did, Tony, because of you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, seemingly processing what the kid said. He looked up slowly, tears falling down his cheeks, leaning forward and pulling the kid into a hug again.

Slowly, Peter got tired, nearly falling asleep in Tony’s arms. So, of course, Tony moved into the bed with him, pulling the kid to rest his head against the man’s chest.

“I got you, kid, don’t worry. You can go to sleep,” Peter didn’t know if Tony was reassuring himself or the kid.

Stil, nonetheless, Peter seemingly couldn’t hold back from murmuring a last thought as he fell asleep.

“Love you, dad”

Tony froze for a moment before replying, “Yeah, i love you too, kid,”

#irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #friendly neighborhood exchange #whump #fluff #poison #nightmares #comfort #hurt/comfort #daniel writes

70 notes · View notes

phantomnostalgist · 3 years

Text

My review of The Phantom of Manhattan, 1999

Digging through the Wayback Machine, I found what I once wrote about Frederick Forsyth's Phantom of Manhattan. Y'know, the pile of crap ALW did in fact improve when creating Love Never Dies.

This is what I posted on my website circa 2005, posting what I'd written when the book was published in 1999. I'm not even going to re-read it, I'm just going to paste it, in case I cringe and want to edit it. But from my brief skim read, I lolled. Also, I never got beyond reading the first few chapters, I hated it that much. I gave my copy to another phan, so she could throw it against the wall and scream too.

The Phantom of Manhattan, aka, a pile of pigshit

Frederick Forsyth collaborated with Andrew Lloyd Webber on this novel, a sequel to The Phantom of the Opera (a novel in which the lead character dies at the end), published in 1999. At the time I posted my initial review to the Phantom mailing list - only the introduction and first chapter, because after that it became too painful. I present those posts below. They are, needless to say, opinionated.

Date: Mon, 26 Jul 1999 19:54:29 -0700

From: Christine Daae

Subject: POTO: Phantom of Manhattan preview - BAD news

I have just obtained an advance reading copy of The Phantom of Manhattan, the Phantom sequel by Frederick Forsyth which will form the basis of ALW's sequel to the show, if he ever writes it. This sequel was written working with Andrew Lloyd Webber.

So far I've just read Forsyth's preface, and it made me so angry and so sick to my stomach that I have to rant before reading any further. I'll give this post a swear words warning since I doubt I can write it without swearing a lot. If you don't like swearing, you've been warned. Mr Forsyth, in his preface, introduces the reader to the Leroux novel - and then graces us with the information that Leroux was "wrong". He acknowledges it as fiction but clearly feels that the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical is in fact the definitive version, and Leroux is incorrect and stupid. For instance: "He appears also to have made an error with the position, appearance and intelligence of Mme. Giry, an error corrected in the Lloyd Webber musical." Excuse me, fuckhead, but Leroux invented the character. Forsyth also tells us at length how implausible the story as told by the Persian is, as well as: "Prior to the intervention of the Persian, Leroux the writer and most readers might have felt some human sympathy for the Phantom.... The Persian however paints him as a raging sadist, a serial killer and strangler for pleasure" etc, etc. Did we read the same book? According to Forsyth, however, "Fortunately there is one flaw in the Persian's story so glaring as to permit us to disbelieve the whole lot. He claimed that Erik had had a long and fulfulling life before coming to dwell in the cellars of the opera house... [fills in background of Erik from novel]. This allegation has to be nonsense. If the man had enjoyed such a life over so many years he would certainly have come to terms with his own disfigurement." Along with more piffle disputing Leroux's story. Dear me Mr Forsyth, you should have read Susan Kay's version too. She has no difficulty giving us a far more psychologically accurate portrait of the Phantom than this pigcrap.

"The only logical step for a modern analyst to take, as Andrew Lloyd Webber has already done with the musical, is to discount the Persian's accounts and allegations in their totality, and never more so than in disbelieving both the Persian and Leroux than the Phantom died shortly after the events narrated."

He does not, however, tell us WHY one should assume this. Oh, silly me, the answer to that is obvious - so we can write a sequel and make a bucket of money from it. Can't do that with a dead Phantom.

I am so sickened that it's difficult for me to even start reading this book. How DARE Forsyth, and Lloyd Webber, insult and write off Leroux in this manner? ALW should remember that if it wasn't for Leroux's novel he would not have his billions from his most popular and successful show. I sincerely hope that one day someone mutilates one of Forsyth's novels in this manner.

I'll review the story itself when I can cope with reading the book. I never expected just a preface to be quite this angering.

Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 03:09:45 -0700

From: Christine Daae

Subject: POTO: Phantom of Manhattan Chapter 1

Just finished chapter 1 and have to get this out of my system or I'll never be able to get to sleep.

It gets worse, and worse, and worse.

Mr. Forsyth has taken the liberty of dating the action of the novel (or rather the show, since he ignores the novel) later than usual, in 1893. In 1882, in his version of events, Mme Giry finds and rescues the 16 year old Erik, who has been chained in a cage for 9 years. This makes him 27 during the action of the novel and show. As we know, Leroux's Erik was over 50. Lloyd Webber's original intention for the musical was also clearly to have an older Erik as the casting of Michael Crawford (and Colm Wilkinson in his very first try-out) shows. Yet according to Forsyth, and apparently now ALW, he was just 27. He had never lived in Persia, never travelled the world. He is given the name Erik Muhlheim. He was born not in a village near Rouen, but in the Alsace, to circus folk. His father was a drunk who beat him, his mother a useless fool. He learned his many skills at the circus, or later, at the opera house. Giry rescues him and keeps him in her home for a month, before letting him into the Opera House where he builds himself a home by the lake and learns all about music. Oh yes, and the bath Giry gave him was the first he'd taken in his life.

Sorry, but Susan Kay's description of Erik's past is far more accurate to Leroux and far more psychologically convincing.

Buquet killed himself, we learn. Erik did not mean to kill Piangi (who is not even in the novel), it was an accident, he just meant to silence him (with a rope??). At the end of the show Giry finds Erik and hides him out, then sends him to New York on a boat.

I am summoning up the courage to begin Chapter 2, narratted by Erik Muhlheim himself in New York.

I wish there was a law against this.

And remember, all ye who felt that ALW would never let Hollywood do anything bad to the show - ALW himself helped Forsyth come up with this trash.

#the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #love never dies #the phantom of manhattan #frederick forsyth #andrew lloyd webber

48 notes · View notes

wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Still Learning ||Demetri Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 1: Little Rabbit

Warnings: None, this is fairly fluffy for once.

Words: 3161

Summary: A part 2 to Little Rabbit as requested by @clowence.

It’s been a few months since Demetri took you in now, and you’re starting to realise he’s more than just a mentor to you.

3 secretaries, 2 weeks in the dungeons for each one, and 1 one very patient man.

That was the brief version of your time with the Volturi so far. Demetri had been enraged when the Masters’ sent you to the dungeons the first time, though he had reluctantly let you go without a fight when it happened twice more. You had tried your best to be good, really you had, but the secretaries had just smelled so good and you were so thirsty all the damn time...

“And that is why you never lose focus in a fight.” Felix’s fist was like a sledgehammer against your jaw, shattering the porcelain skin. You hit the floor hard, a hiss escaping your throat. Felix had been assigned to train you by Demetri himself, since he trusted very few people to be around you, but Felix trained you hard. Your daily routine consisted of being his punch bag for a few hours, but it gave you something else to focus on other than the grating thirst. It was like a constant itch in the back of your throat, one that grew worse and made your throat raw when you were thirsty but was slowly dimming to background noise as the months passed.

Demetri had kept a close eye on you for the nine months you had been with him. Not once in all that time had decided to tell you you were his mate of course, seeing your obvious struggle with day to day existence and not wanting to add to that. The Volturi was not a place for newborns. It was a coven of much older, experienced vampires who had harnessed their gifts and their thirst – you were very much an outsider. Constantly teased, constantly under siege by your own instincts, and yet…you made him proud every single day. He made sure you had the room next to his, Aro not denying you that privilege of living amongst the higher guard after seeing Demetri’s thoughts on the matter.

Silently, he had watched you try to adjust to your new life, and after seeing your evenings were the hardest to deal with he had set up a nightly routine of visiting you when he didn’t have a duty assigned to him or something to do. You quickly picked up the Italian he taught you, your new mind quick to recall everything you had ever thought or seen from the moment you had awoken in this life, and he had been pleasantly surprised by your eagerness to learn some Greek from him to, completely oblivious that it was an attempt on your part simply to show him a little gratitude and interest.

The truth was, he knew you better than you knew yourself in this life. The moment you started to have a little wobble Demetri was at your side like he had never left it, and the intensity of the flurry of emotions he invoked was too much for you to bear some nights. After months spent in his company, nights where reading together became nights you spent curled up next to him as he read to you, casual touches began to linger, his hand on your waist as you moved past one another in the halls or your hand touching his as you passed books between you. He no longer held you back by the shoulders as he tried to teach you some restraint as you fed (your weekly trips to Florence something you very much looked forward to as it meant a bit of alone time with him) but by the hips instead, his lips playing along your hairline distracting you more than anything so you weren’t always sure if it was your actual self-control getting better or if you were just growing more aware of Demetri.

Felix had your back pressed into the floor once more, his hands gripping your head lightly.

“And now I can take your head off of your shoulders. What is distracting you today?” he asked. You groaned, struggling weakly until Felix let you up.

“I just am.” You grumbled. How was you supposed to tell him his best friend was invading your thoughts? You couldn’t. Felix would absolutely rip you apart.

“Distractions always have a root cause.” He pointed out neutrally. A flash of irritation made you hiss quietly before you took a breath to collect yourself. Felix smirked ever so slightly, sensing your frustration and silently lowering into a half-crouch to try and tempt you to take it out on him. You ignored him and ran a hand through your hair.

“I’m making no progress.” You huffed, a complete lie. Felix seemed to know it was a lie to but he let you get away with it, tilting his head slightly in what you thought was going to be a nod before it became a shake. You frowned.

“You have made a lot of progress, even if you don’t think that you have. I have been fighting newborns for over two millenia Y/N, most would not stand up to me like you can,” He assured you, “When your heads in the right place.” He added with a smirk.

“You’ll have a chance to prove you’ve made progress tonight.” Alec’s voice was a welcome one, even if you didn’t quite get on with the twins all the time. Jane was nowhere to be seen today but Alec stood tall in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Your frown only deepened, mind racing a million miles ahead as to what that might mean. Did they want you to fight Felix in front of them? A mission maybe? Newborns didn’t go on missions, you were told so by a very upset Caius when you had first come to Volterra and asked what you might be doing to repay them for giving you a room.

“Put the poor girl out of her misery Alec, her mind is wandering today.” Felix chuckled.

“Heidi will be returning early today, Master Aro has extended an invitation to you to join us for feeding time.” Alec informed you. If you weren’t tense before you were now, your entire body freezing up a little. Feed with them? In the main hall? You had so little experience feeding around other vampires, your control still not perfect, what if you made a fool out of yourself in front of the entire guard?

“If vampires could go pale…”Felix grinned wickedly, obviously enjoying your discomfort. You shot him a glare.

“I’m hardly a pro at any of this!” you protested. Part of you were sure this was a test, or maybe a punishment. Caius had been very upset with you for killing their pilot and every secretary you had accidentally slaughtered had only kept you further and further out of his good graces. This had to be some sort of test for you, and you feared the dungeons more than anything. The smell was awful and the dark was constant, the groans of fellow prisoners a constant echo in your ears. You didn’t want to go back there.

“Y/N stop panicking, I’m sure with all the hard work you and Demetri have put in you’ll be fine.” Felix promised.

“I need to shower.” You murmured, fleeing the room before either of them could stop you. It was a lie, of course, vampires couldn’t sweat, but there was still something so calming about the hot water flowing over your frozen skin that for a few moments, you could simply escape your troubled thoughts. When you were done you sat on your bed in nothing more than your towel, staring distractedly at the door you were sure someone would come through to fetch you when Heidi arrived. Sulu didn’t let your mind drift too long, hopping up onto your bed and nosing at your hands in an effort to get you to stroke him.

Sulu’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, tongue wagging and pounding the mattress. What was Aro playing at? What could he possibly gain from making you feed with the others tonight? Was Demetri aware of this plan? Did he think you could do it? Would he be with you? Sulu licked at your hand, his big brown eyes questioning even if he couldn’t physically ask you anything. With a quiet sigh you leaned down to nuzzle him before crossing to your wardrobe, picking something appropriate to see the Masters’ in. You didn’t want to let Demetri down today, that was your biggest fear. He had helped you so much, given you so much of your life back when you thought it had been lost to you forever. The soft sound of scratching made you look up, slipping some socks on as you padded back to your room. Demetri lay on his side, fingers scratching at Sulu’s tummy.

“Heidi will be here any moment.” He said by way of greeting. You internally flinched. Not the news you wanted to hear. Apparently your silence was disconcerting to him and Demetri looked up with a frown, his eyes raking your body slightly while you avoided the dark burgundy irises, knowing they would see through every façade you put on.

“Great.” You murmured, moving towards your shoes by the door. You had barely jammed your feet into them when warm hands pulled you into a sturdy chest. The familiar softness of his lips found your temple, and you unwittingly relaxed into his grip.

“Stop worrying so much, you will be fine.” He promised. The affection was a tad overwhelming to your already overworking mind but you let yourself drown in it anyway.

“What if I mess up? I don’t want to go back to the dungeons.” You whispered, voice wavering slightly. Demetri squeezed your hips.

“You have nothing to fear. I will be right there with you.” His reassurances were sweet in your ear and before you knew it he had led you hand in hand to the throne room. Exchanging a long look with him, you squeezed his hand tighter in the hopes he’d know not to let go. The rest of the guard had already assembled, the Masters’ stood waiting to greet their tourists. Alec and Jane glanced towards you, Felix sending you the briefest of smiles. A few murmurs went up around the room and Demetri silenced them with a fierce glare.

“Ah, young Y/N. How wonderful to see you again. I have heard good things from the others.” Aro greeted you with an extended hand and you silently wished he hadn’t, wanting to keep your worries private. Still, you knew it wasn’t a request. Aro rifled through your thoughts like it was a slideshow put on just for him, and you dared not make eye contact as he chuckled. He neither confirmed nor denied your fears, simply let Demetri lead you away towards his station in the room. His hand was tight around your own.

“You will be fine darling, just remember all you have learned. No one is expecting perfection.” He promised you.

“I am.” Caius muttered, a sadistic grin spreading on his lips. You tensed up, hearing the familiar click of Heidi’s heels. It was followed by a gaggle of voices, a thousand beats of thudding hearts and the crash of blood rushing through veins, a similar sound to what your hazy mind could recall hearing at the Niagara Falls once when you visited. You tightened your grip on Demetri’s hand, holding your breath as he had taught you to do. His thumb moved in slow circles over the back of your hand. It felt like a small stretch of eternity had passed before Heidi even opened the doors, flashing you a bright grin as she went and introducing the end of the tour. Aro stood, all beaming smiles and clapping hands.

“Welcome! Welcome friends, to Volterra!” he cried, spreading his arms wide. You could shut off your lungs but not your ears. A cacophony of heartbeats and breathing and shuffling feet grated on your ears, every little sound rattling against your already frayed nerves. It was difficult to focus on Aro’s speech as it rambled on and on, Demetri squeezing your hand every now and then the only thing really grounding you – that and your fierce determination to prove every smug guard looking your way wrong. Clearly nobody expected you to last, and you couldn’t honestly blame them. Your patience was wearing thin, your throat feeling like someone had shoved a red hot poker down into its depths.

“Easy, Y/N, try to think past your thirst,” Demetri murmured. You hadn’t even realised you’d leaned forward until you were pulled back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. “Do not let them win, you are stronger than this.” He whispered, so low only you would hear. You grit your teeth, tearing your eyes away from the throbbing skin of a woman’s pulse.

“I can’t.” you hissed.

“You can.” He said firmly, tightening his grip on you. It was a horrific feeling, being unable to stop your mind from slipping away from you, but you could feel the frenzy taking hold, taking root in your mind. It was impossible to think past the roaring in your head and you instinctively began to struggle against Demetri’s hold, the warmth of his embrace starting to feel suffocating. There was a man across from you, a living, breathing human, with blood flowing beneath the surface of sweat dewed skin and a heart that was pounding in your ears, a tattoo in your brain you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“And so concludes your tour…I do hope you enjoyed your stay.” You could hear him, but Aro’s words had no meaning in your head, no definition connected to any of them. They were empty, meaningless. Demetri’s grip suddenly disappeared and your head snapped around, teeth bared. He smiled slightly, giving you a nod.

“Now?” you ground out.

“Go ahead my love.”

You were away like a bullet from a gun, turning and launching yourself at the human opposite you. You’d never fed in such a public space, so many people around you, so many onlookers, but it didn’t seem to matter to you in that moment as instinct took over. You were lost to that first, hot burst of blood, drowning in complete ecstasy as a maelstrom of violence erupted around you. Your mind slowly filtered back to you as you drank, the fire clearing and conscious thought becoming easier. Picking your next target was more strategic than the first, since you had to avoid Santiago’s deadly glare as you did so, and by the time your woman of choice was limp in your arms there was a warm body behind yours. You sank into him immediately, falling back against his chest. His breath was still warm on your ear from the blood of his chosen victim.

“How bad do I look on a scale of one to ten?” you mumbled as the last of the screams died away. Demetri chuckled.

“To me, cara mia, you are always Aphrodite personified.” He promised. You smiled slightly, sure you would blush if you still could. Demetri was always dropping little compliments like that, and they almost always succeeded in making you forget where you were. It wasn’t until Aro’s slow applause echoed about the room that you remembered exactly where you were. Your head snapped toward him and you swallowed, glancing down at your shirt. You weren’t…messy, per say, but you certainly weren’t as spotless as the others.

“Well done young one, it seems Demetri has taught you well; I expected nothing less, of course.” He glanced to the tracker who stood a bit taller behind you.

“She is wearing half of her victim.” Caius sneered. You ducked your gaze a bit in embarrassment.

“But her control was applaudable, I admit I was betting against you.” Alec’s voice was warmer than usual and that mischievous sparkle was in his eye once more – he clearly enjoyed proving Caius wrong.

“Er…thanks?” you replied uncertainly. Demetri chuckled.

“If you would excuse us, Masters’, I think someone needs a fresh change of clothes.” He teased. You groaned softly but let him lead you from the room when Aro granted permission to do so. The walk back to your quarters was silent, but the air between you was charged. There were so many thoughts and feelings you had accrued in your head over the past 8 months, so many things you hadn’t actually said to him.

“Thank you.” You figured it was a good place to start. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“For what? You did that all on your own.” He pointed out. You shook your head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“But you taught me to do that. You’ve taught me a lot, actually. I just...thank you, for giving me a chance to learn and not just…you know.” You trailed off awkwardly. Demetri paused, seemingly deliberating what he wanted to say before with a quiet sigh, he clasped the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You were the only one to survive you know, the only newborn that lived that day, because I selfishly could not imagine a world without you in it. Everything I do I do to keep you by my side, my motivations are the most selfish…you have no reason to thank me.” He murmured, his expression soft and adoring. You blinked, sure you were seeing and hearing wrong, but his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly as if to confirm his words. So he wanted you huh? The news warmed your soul, or whatever was left of it. It felt like the right moment.

“I love you.” You whispered. A hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“I have waited for those words.” He confessed, moving his lips from your forehead to his own.

“I love you.” You mumbled, already intoxicated by the merest brush of his lips on yours. Demetri hummed.

“One more time.”

“I love you.” You smiled, winding your arms around his neck. Demetri’s kiss was all consuming, deep and desperate in his effort to show you exactly how he had felt for the past 8 months since the day you had met. It was an outpouring of love and devotion and all the good kinds of things that made your toes curl, your heart soar.

“You need another shower.” He murmured, but his lips didn’t relinquish yours. You giggled, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. His low growl made your knees weak.

“In another moment of selfishness, are you planning on offering me yours?” you questioned. Demetri had lifted you off of the floor in a matter of seconds, grinning now.

“I’ll be as selfish as you let me my love.”

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x female reader #x reader #request #the student has become the master #sort of #reader is out here trying her best okay

147 notes · View notes

idmakeitbehave · 4 years

Text

This I Know {Spencer x Reader}

Chapter One

masterlist

series table of contents

a/n: this is an angsty, fluffy 12 part series i’ve been working on. no real warnings aside from memory loss and the emotional angst that comes with that. you can read ahead on my AO3 if you’re so inclined!

word count: 1.5k

*beep beep beep beep beep*

The rhythmic droning of beeps was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. You groggily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. How did you get here? And… where exactly was here?

The fluorescent lights were almost blinding and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust. You could just make out a monitor to your right, the source of the steady beeping. As you shifted, you winced at the slight pull on your hand- an IV was taped to it. A hospital. Alright, that mystery was settled at least.

You tried desperately to remember how you got there, but your mind was blank. Vague memories pushed at the horizon- a blurred silhouette, the faint scent of vanilla and old books, music playing softly in the background. Nothing clear, nothing certain.

The last solid memory you had was staring out of your kitchen window, holding your cup of coffee and watching the hot summer sun rise. But now you turned to look out of the hospital window and there was no sun. The sky was white, snowflakes dancing across it.

The monitor started beeping faster as you panicked to put together what this realization meant. What it had to mean. Something awful had happened. It obviously wasn’t snowing in July in Georgia. So where were you? When were you?

There was a shuffling at the door and a doctor hurried in, smiling brightly at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you awake.”

You pulled yourself up, groaning at the strain. “Where am I? What happened?” Your voice was raspy from disuse.

“You’re at the hospital in Quantico. There was an incident at work and you suffered from some substantial head trauma. Can you tell me your name and the date?”

You stared at the doctor blankly for a moment before responding, first telling him your name. “And it’s… well, that’s the problem. I remember it being July, but it’s snowing, so that’s obviously wrong. And I remember being in Georgia, but somehow I’m in Virginia?”

“July of what year?” The doctor’s quiet question shocked you and your eyes widened at him.

“2008?” Your answer was a whisper, the uncertainty lacing your voice.

“I’m sorry, but it’s November 15th, 2010.”

The look of sympathy on the doctor’s face caught you off guard and the beeping besides you quickened again. You looked around the room wildly, attempting to take in the impossible information he had just given you. Two years? You had lost two years of your life? This had to be a mistake. This could not be happening to you. Your vision started blurring, the room in front of you swimming. Hot, panicked tears ran down your cheeks as you attempted to take in shallow breaths.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” the doctor spoke soothingly as he adjusted your medication. “I’m just going to give you a mild sedative to help you calm down. Take a deep breath, as deep as you can.��

The drugs were fast, and the beeping slowed down again. You took a measured breath in through your nose, exhaling slowly through your mouth. A warm haze washed over you and you looked back at the doctor, asking him the same question as before. “What happened to me?”

“You have amnesia from your head trauma. I know it’s a lot to take in, but from your scans it does look like it will only be temporary. With support from your loved ones and some techniques for recall, you should be able to regain most, if not all, of your lost memories.”

You nodded shakily, trying to wrap your mind around all of this. Loved ones. Loved ones? Who? The last you had seen of your family had been three years ago- well, apparently five years ago. “I’m in Quantico?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, you live and work here. I’m afraid I can’t help to fill in the gaps beyond that, but your friends have been here for the majority of the past week, so I’m sure they will be able to help you out.”

Friends. Okay, you had friends. You almost laughed at the stupidity of that small thought. But, it was slightly reassuring to know that you weren’t alone here- wherever here might be. Home, you supposed. Your home. The idea was unfamiliar, strange even. You had a job- apparently a dangerous one at that, a house, friends who visited you while you were unconscious in the hospital for a week. That gave you the smallest bit of hope.

“I have to go finish my rounds, but we’ve contacted your emergency contact to let him know that you’re awake. He should be here shortly. Just push the call button here if you need anything and one of the nurses will help you out.”

You murmured your quiet thanks as he left the room, your mind reeling. There wasn’t much else you could do, confined to this tiny hospital bed. You leaned back, willing yourself to relax as much as possible. Eventually you succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, drifting off to sleep, dreams laden with vaguely familiar shapes and faraway voices just out of your reach.

The sound of footsteps woke you up again, and you struggled to remember where you were in your daze. The hospital. Quantico. You reminded yourself firmly of the facts, trying to ground yourself.

A figure lingered in the doorway, coming into focus as you rubbed your eyes wearily. The figure- it was a man, a tall, lanky man- moved closer to you, sinking into the chair beside you.

You studied his face for a second. He was handsome, a strong jawline and striking hazel eyes hidden partially by messy, curly hair.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake,” the man breathed out, whispering your name before leaning over you and holding your hand tightly. The touch was comforting. You detected the faintest scent of vanilla, making you almost dizzy. That smell. You remembered that smell.

You must have been lost in thought, because the man was saying something again. You just barely caught the tail end. “We’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you so much.”

Staring at the man, you fixed your eyes on his. Your gaze was disconcerting and he squirmed in his chair for a moment.

He said your name again, his voice a tremulous question as his eyes darted back and forth across your face.

“I,” you started, “I’m sorry but… who are you?”

The man’s jaw slackened, his shoulders dropping. His eyes filled with tears almost immediately as the color left his face. There was silence between the two of you, the only sound the steady beeping of the monitor beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, twisting in the bed to get a better look at this man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just- I don’t know you. Are you one of my friends?”

He bit his lip, a tear making its way down one of his cheeks. You felt the strangest urge to reach out and wipe the tear away. “I’m Spencer.”

“Hi Spencer,” you smiled at him, a tentative, watery smile. “You’re one of my friends?”

The man- Spencer, you reminded yourself- swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth, seemed to rethink his words, and closed it again. You looked at him quizzically and he finally answered. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“What?” The shock was evident in your voice, though your hand tightened instinctively around his. He glanced down at the gesture, a small smile on his face.

Spencer ran his hand through his hair, sighing shakily. His eyes met yours again and there was something strange there. You had no idea who this man was, and yet you couldn’t look away. “What do you remember?”

You told him of your last memories, of the two lost years, and you recited the facts that the doctor had given you. His face remained pale as he listened, tears still brimming in his eyes.

“He said- he said it probably won’t be permanent,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands. “I just need help remembering.”

“I can do that.” The sudden steadiness in his voice made you look up. It was the most sure you had heard him since this stranger had entered your hospital room.

“You’d do that for me?” Your words were shaky. “Even though- even though I don’t remember you? Us?”

Spencer smiled again, a tiny bittersweet smile. “I remember everything- enough for the both of us. And besides, I love you. I’d do anything.”

You stared at him, eyes searching his. Of all the things you had thought could happen after the impossible news from this morning, this was the last thing you had expected. This handsome stranger, his comforting touch, the familiar scent of vanilla.

The exhaustion of this unbelievable day washed over you, and your eyes felt heavy again. Your head lolled to the side, studying Spencer’s face silently. You squeezed his hand again, whispering as your eyes closed. “Please stay with me.”

You heard his voice in the distance as you drifted off to sleep. “Always.”

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”

-Chuck Palahniuk

next chapter

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer #reid #reid fic #reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #like #reblog #sarasstuff #thisiknow

252 notes · View notes

sullustangin · 3 years

Note

yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe i would.” For Akaavi and Risha

😇

Sorry for the very long delay in posting this; I've been in the real estate moshpit and finally moved house. Thanks for the prompt; I should be better at getting to these in the future.

Early 3639

Prompt: “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” For Akaavi and Risha

“We should just be a bunch of chaotic space lesbians and fuck men – as in, forget men. Like the opposite of what I said.”

“Uh huh.” Akaavi patted the back of Risha’s thigh as she carried her up the gangplank of Virtue’s Thief. The Zabrak had hoisted the Drayen heir over her shoulders in order to remove her from the bar; she’d had too much of a few things, and the Thief was short on bail funds because Guss had lost them at the sabacc table. “Now your problem is getting the Captain to agree.”

“Oh, fuck her. Like literally, if we’re going to be real lesbians.” Risha’s vehement foot swung back and forth and almost hit Akaavi.

“Again, you’ll have to convince her. And me.”

“That’s not hard on your count.” Risha’s voice slid low into her register, and she wiggled as suggestively as she could while in a fireman’s carry.

“Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” Akaavi was sorely tempted to drop Risha on her head, but brain cells were an endangered species on Virtue’s Thief, sometimes. Risha only talked like this when she was really drunk. Akaavi had observed and learned never to take it seriously. “What’s your problem?”

“I got thrown out of the casino – how dare they. Fucking Corolastor is up in the penthouse suite, happily drinking herself to death.”

“So she’s blowing off steam. It’s been a hectic last few months.”

“What a shit nickname the holos gave her: ‘the Voidhound.’ Because she killed the Voidwolf.” Risha’s left foot jerked out for emphasis, and Akaavi dodged it. “How boring. How uncreative. How the fuck did she become more successful than my father with a bunch of losers?”

“Watch it.” Akaavi was close to giving into temptation, just this one time – which temptation was cloudy, since Akaavi had been drinking a lot that night too. She knew she had to take Risha home and keep her safe; that’s what the Captain had asked before she bought something ridiculously expensive and took it upstairs.

She usually pulled the barman too, but there’d be a hiatus since…

Risha exhaled dramatically and went limp over Akaavi’s shoulders. “She gets to celebrate not being in jail, being free and all that. Why can’t I?”

“You thought your ex-fiancé was somehow being unfaithful to you despite being your ex.”

“He should be fighting the good fight on Dubrillion.”

“Risha, for the last time, that was not him. It was some other guy with a mustache with his boyfriend.”

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to do that.”

Akaavi shrugged the best she could under the dead weight. “As if we know what Jedi are supposed to do, between Guss and Sumalee.”

“Hey! My buddy is the BEST Jedi. She saved Eva – which is why I hate her right now.” Risha’s head dropped, and Akaavi hoped that she’d finally passed out.

No, she was not that lucky.

“I don’t mean I can’t celebrate because I got kicked out—I have spice back home. I mean, I can’t celebrate. I can’t celebrate being free of Merritt,” Risha said the last word softly.

The Count’s first name. Interesting. Akaavi gave a non-committal grunt as she ascended the gangplank of Virtue’s Thief.

It was when Akaavi tipped to her side to slide Risha off her shoulders and into her bunk that the problem of the night emerged. “I shouldn’t have listened Eva. I should have married him anyway.”

“Did you love him?” For Akaavi, it was a straight-forward matter; the Captain’s advice had been sound on that front: love him, yes; do not love him, no.

Despite her drinking, Risha seemed to have acquired the ability to read minds. “No, but at least Merritt was a decent man; she probably said what she did because she’d just … with Darmas.” Risha made a vague, distant gesture into the darkness that crept in around the edges of the crew quarters. “I should have done it anyway. Logical. Politically advantageous. Probably subby in bed. I can work with that.”

Akaavi rolled her eyes. “So call him.”

A flicker of light appeared in Risha’s eyes. “He does seem to be in love with me.” Then the light burned out. “But I’m not in love with him. I don’t think I can be in love with anyone.” Risha tilted her head back against her headboard to help her look up at Akaavi.

Akaavi wanted to go to bed now, please. And not in here with her. She wondered if the Captain would be offended if she slept in the cockpit. “So don’t.”

Risha blinked. “It’s just – he can be in love with someone. It seems really, really cruel to take away the opportunity for someone to be in love with him.” She let her head loll to the other side, her cheek pressed against the top of the headboard. “I asked Eva if she thought I’d always be broken.”

Now Akaavi remembered why she hated drinking with Risha: she always got sad when she drank. At least with the spice, she was giggly and somewhat happy. Or she was like a moon: she reflected the light of others as her own. “So you weren’t in love with this count –”

“I’ve never been in love at all. I don’t think I can do it. Maybe it’s because of –”

Akaavi didn’t want to have her drinks go sour in her stomach like when she’d overheard her tell Eva, who wasn’t doing that great anyway. “Some people just aren’t romantic. Or they only feel that way with the right ones.” She paused for a couple of beats. “Not everything is because ‘something’ happened.”

“It certainly didn’t help.”

Akaavi had nothing to say to that.

Risha gazed at her, her expression inscrutable. “Did you always like girls, or only after you swore off men after Lone?”

Akaavi laughed, a short clipped noise. “You know I most certainly have not sworn off men. But to the first question, yes, always.”

“Double the chances to find someone.”

“Double the rejections. Or double the people I have to reject.”

Risha didn’t say anything for a few minutes. In the darkness of the crew quarters, Akaavi thought she might have fallen asleep, if it weren’t for the fact that Risha’s breathing did not slow as it would.

“Sometimes you just are?”

“Sometimes you just are. And there’s nothing broken about that.”

This plays around with some orientation and identity headcanon I've had about the girls.

In my fan fic universe, I read Akaavi as bisexual, biromantic because a) she had a male lover who betrayed her in the original SWTOR; and b) she objects to leaving with the smuggler Commander if Mako doesn't get to go too (same with Mako with a BH Commander; if not romanced by the male BH, Mako can be encouraged to date Torian for awhile, so either way, vanilla SWTOR shows Mako liking boys too). For Risha, in my universe with a f!smuggler, she's heterosexual, but either aromantic or demiromantic and hasn't found someone to feel that deeply about yet. Looking at the m!smuggler romance, Risha has a lot of banter, but she actively steers away from any schmaltz or confession of feelings. As to "what happened," I have headcanonned that Risha didn't have the best introduction to sex and relationships, since she was on her own from the age of 11; she was young and vulnerable, and people took advantage of that. I've also had the experience of being a mentor to students from conservative backgrounds that wonder if early sexual activity or trauma 'made them be this way' when they don't come out heterosexual, heteroromantic... or, in their world, "normal." Reassurances can be offered, but not always accepted.

Akaavi is 5 years older than Corso, 6 years older than Risha, and 7 years older than my smuggler; she has better perspective about life and who she really is than these yuckleheads. Risha plays at being hardened, so much to the point that we sometimes forget that she's only about 21 when the game starts.

#swtor #fan fiction #risha drayen #akaavi spar #swtor fan fiction #askbox #thanks for asking

20 notes · View notes