#finally feeling comfortable and confident enough to leave the basement!!!!
Text
Anniversary
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
Word count: ~2.4k
Summary: You spend a special day with Wanda
Warnings: angst, mentions of death, and hurt/comfort
A/N: @aliherreraaa, here's the angsty first time we see Wanda cry. Enjoy.
Sometimes you hated the fact that you knew so little about Wanda. You’ve been dating for 3 months which honestly wasn’t that long, and given how sporadically you saw her sometimes she felt like a stranger. When you were with her though, it was easy to forget about this because you got along so well. You figure it’s not the same as knowing someone, and especially during times like now, you wish you’d talked about deeper things than your favorite movie or vacation spot.
Maybe it was too early for anything else. You were relatively new to relationships and didn’t really know what was normal. That said, your time with Wanda was enough to realize what wasn’t normal for a relationship. Being ghosted isn’t normal, and despite accepting it to a point because of Wanda’s work, this was getting ridiculous. After having plans 3 days ago and getting no response from your girlfriend after she stood you up, you were irritated to say the least. You had sent her far too many texts that had gone unanswered, and an equally frustrating number of calls that had also failed to get Wanda’s attention.
You’d had a rough week without this happening, so you couldn’t just ignore the frustration that Wanda had caused. You practically stomp up the driveway after jumping over the gate once you’d realized you couldn’t get through. You brush the dirt and grass off of your clothes as you huff on annoyance. You’ve only been here once, but Wanda had told you how to sneak in. You hadn’t thought too deeply into it at the time because you were excited to finally be seeing where Wanda lived, but now you just find it annoying. Why was she so secretive and non-communicative? You could handle one with good reason, but not both.
As you literally storm her giant house, you consider what you’ll say to her. She’d missed a simple date and that was annoying, but what really bothered you was the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Wanda had never indicated that she wasn’t interested in you. In fact, she’d done the opposite many times, so you were frustrated and insecure to say the least. These feelings, as well as your anxiety that grew with each day that Wanda didn’t respond, were the impetus to come track her down.
You sneak in through the door that Wanda told you didn’t lock, and you end up in the basement near the stairwell that leads up to the rooms that she, her friends, and brother occupied. You try not to think about running into them as you take the stairs two at a time while glancing at your phone and they many, many unanswered messages. Seeing nothing new you scowl before pausing as you reach the top floor. You still don’t know what you’re going to say to your girlfriend, but opening the door that led out to the floor you’d only been on once shakes your confidence a little. You’re glad the hall is empty and you go straight for Wanda’s door and take a deep breath as you raise your hand to knock.
You don’t speak because you’re not sure who’s nearby and you don’t want to attract any unwanted attention. No response nearly ten seconds later makes your anger flare again and you knock once more. This time you knock louder and for longer until you’re almost ready to give up.
You sigh heavily and start to turn and leave when you hear the door fly open and suddenly Wanda’s standing in front of you. She looks pissed and you quickly notice that her eyes are red and she doesn’t look like she’s slept in a while. You suddenly feel very uncomfortable and out of line as Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of you.
Wanda had spent the last 5 days in her room, and up until yesterday her brother had been knocking multiple times a day, everyday. She’d thought he’d quit but hearing the incessant knocking from her bedroom told her otherwise. She’d been unable to get out of bed for most of the time she’d been locked in here. The increasing anxiety and depression she’d felt these past few days had kept her from doing anything other than sleeping or staring off into space while reruns of her favorite sitcom played on mute in the background.
Nothing could have prepared her for this, and she’d feel bad about ignoring everyone, especially you and her brother, but she didn’t have enough energy to spare. Her brother was suffering too and she was being selfish this year and keeping to herself. He’d tried to talk some sense into her, but she wouldn’t listen. She’d figured that since Pietro didn’t come by yesterday, he must have given up. Hearing him knock today made her feel something other than sadness, and she’d hopped out of bed and stormed to the door to give him a piece of her mind.
Seeing you on the other side of the door made her stop and stare in shock. She quickly realized that she’d missed a date with you, but she doesn’t think about this now as she watches your irritation lessen slightly. She briefly wonders how mad you must be to have come all this way just to yell at her. Her anxiety starts to creep up again as she considers why you’re here and she begins to wring her hands nervously.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?”
You ignore her question as your scowl disappears and your expression changes from anger to concern. You realize that Wanda’s been crying and this makes your anger dissipate as you consider the possibilities. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Wanda upset, and it's throwing you into protective mode.
“What’s wrong, Wanda? Are you okay?”
You want to ask more, but you can tell that Wanda’s a little overwhelmed by whatever is going on as well as your presence, and you don’t want to push her over the edge. You watch and wait as Wanda just stares at you before her brain reminds her of why she’d isolated herself in the first place. She fights back the tears she feels burning her already raw and tired eyes as she shakes her head. She can’t lie to you and she doesn’t want to, so she opens the door further and takes a deep breath.
“Do you want to come in?”
Completely ignoring your question was answer enough for now, and despite your frown returning, you nod before following her into the room. It’s dark and quiet in here, and as soon as the door shuts behind you it’s near pitch black. Wanda wants nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but now that you’re here she hesitates. She casts her bedroom a longing look before moving to sit on the couch in the living room. You stand near the front door just watching as she switches on a lamp and makes it easier for you to see how exhausted she looks. You have a feeling that she’s just been holed up in her room since you were supposed to see her. You just don’t know why.
“Sorry I missed our date."
Wanda’s voice is flat and emotionless when she says this, making you think she feels an obligation to apologize more than she actually regrets not seeing you. You don’t bother addressing this now as you walk toward her slowly. She doesn’t seem to really notice as she sits back and takes in a shaky breath. You take the chance to sit down beside her, and when she doesn’t react you take this as a good sign.
“I’m more worried about you, Wands. What’s going on?”
Wanda doesn’t respond immediately but her eyes squeeze shut as she considers your question for only a second. For the last five days she’s been agonizing over the past and wondering how different her life would be if she hadn’t inherited the criminal empire she controlled today.
“My parents died tomorrow.”
The sentence confuses you initially until you remember that Wanda had inherited her family business. The anniversary of their death must be tomorrow, and this realization suddenly makes you feel like an asshole. Wanda hadn’t been ignoring you like you’d thought. She’d be ignoring everyone as she grieved her parents. You suddenly feel a strong urge to pull her into a hug, but you don’t think that will be well received.
Despite letting you in here, she hadn’t so much as touched you since you arrived so you’re not going to risk overwhelming her further. Instead you tell her what you’d want to hear if you were in her place. You shift on the couch so you’re facing her, and you fidget as you consider reaching out for her hand.
“I’m sorry. I know that can’t be easy.”
Wanda has tears rolling down her cheeks only moments after you say this, and you immediately feel guilty. You ignore your fear of being thrown out, and you take Wanda’s hand in yours and squeeze it to reassure her the she’s not alone. Your girlfriend finally opens her eyes and as expected they're red and watery from crying. She squeezes your hand as she takes a shaky breath before she looks at you sadly.
“It hurts. I miss them so much.”
Your heart stutters at her words. You hate that she has to go through this, and you hate that she’s chosen to be alone as well. You move closer and wrap and arm around her shoulders as you hold her close. You’re surprised when Wanda starts to cry harder as she turns so her face is in your shoulder, but you don’t hesitate to hug her tightly. You hear her continue to sniffle even once her sobs die down after what feels like a century. You’re rubbing her back soothingly as you wait for your girlfriend to tell you what she wants. She’s probably exhausted from the past few days, and you’re considering leading her to bed when she finally begins to shift. She lets out a tired whimper before she pulls just far enough away to meet your gaze with an apologetic one.
“I really am sorry. For ignoring you.”
Wanda didn’t even realize that you’d reached out, but in the past few minutes she concluded that it was the only explanation for why you’d be here. She went dark sometimes, but this time she’d missed a date and upset you. Before she can feel guilty about this for too long, you shake your head with a sigh that expels both tension and any remaining anger you had in your body. You want to help Wanda feel better through this horrible experience, and you offer yourself up in hopes that she’ll ask for assistance.
“I’m more worried about you. Is there something I can do to help you feel better?”
Wanda bites her lip at the thought of what she wants to ask you. She’d wanted it before she even invited you in, but she’d been worried for several reasons. For one she thought you’d be angry with her for ghosting you, and she’d expected you to shout at her or at the very least tell her off. The next and likely more important fear was that you wouldn’t want to stick around because she certainly wouldn’t be good company. She wasn’t feeling well and she’s not sure what she’d manage to do with you here.
As if sensing her conflict, you offer her a smile and squeeze her arm gently to get her attention. Once she’s looking at you, you lean in to kiss her forehead before resting your own against it with a sigh.
“Whatever you need, Wands. I’m here, okay?”
Wanda swallows the lump in her throat before she reaches out to play with your hair. The sincerity she hears in your voice is enough for her to find the courage to ask you to stay.
When you just smile and nod in agreement, Wanda feels her mood brighten and a faint smile tug at her lips. She kisses you in thanks before she turns away from you and leans back against you. Understanding what Wanda’s asking for, you spread you legs so she can sit between them before reaching out to wrap your arms around her waist. You pull her close and kiss her cheek as she relaxes against you and breathes a sigh of relief. She focuses on your presence and lets the thoughts of her parents fade into the background.
At this point she’s realized that she’ll always miss them. No matter how many people she surrounded herself with, she’d never find anyone to replace them. She didn’t want that, but she did want to find a way to move on while still respecting their memories. She knows her mom would want her to be happy, and she’s certain the older Maximoff would have loved you. You’re caring, funny, and you make her happy. Her mother wouldn’t want anything else for her.
Her father may have been more concerned with work than her mother, but Wanda liked to think he’d support her relationship with you. If he was around she wouldn’t be in charge, and maybe she’d have more freedom. He would have given you a hard time, but hopefully he’d come around eventually.
She’ll never know what her parents would think of her life right now. Despite wondering all of these things she knows it’s all speculation that merely serves as a coping mechanism. She’s fine with this for now, but after tomorrow’s passed she’s going to figure out how to step out on her own, out of her parents’ shadows.
Wanda turns her head so she can listen to your heartbeat as you both relax and feel content for the first time in days. Wanda’s grateful for your presence here with her, and in her life as a whole. You’re comforting and kind and she wants to find a way to let you into her life. By the time you leave two days later, Wanda decides that you’re unlike anyone she’s ever met. You’re special and she’s determined to hold onto you for as long as you’ll let her.
Masterlist
#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x you#silver springs#silver springs drabble#mob au
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
What Happens Next?
Summary: Rules are discussed amongst you and Ukai, You start testing your limits with him to see if it’s a truly safe environment.
Warnings: Cussing, getting close, inner thoughts, grabbing, hair pulling, and not proof read.
Last chapter/Next chapter
Your heart started pacing and you could feel yourself getting sweaty. “ he is here already” you thought to yourself as you were pacing back and fourth. Calm down. “Yea, come in” you stood far a way from the door as possible. It felt as if time was going slow when Ukai walked in, you couldn’t lie that Ukai was hot and had a hot body. “I wanted you to get comfortable before we had this conversation, I just need to talk about rules and what is off-limits,” he said, clearing his throat a little.
“Yeah, I got some um things to ask or say,” you said, with a shaky voice. Don’t you dare show weakness. “That’s fine, Rule 1 you are not allowed to go in my office, upstairs, West Wing and North Wing as well as the basement, Rule 2 don’t be surprised if there are nights or days that you can’t leave this place, not trying to trap you just means it’s unsafe outside, Rule 3 respect goes both ways, Rule 4 don’t touch the weapons, and rule 5 I’m the boss what I say goes.”
He looked at you as if he was testing to see if you would say something or disagree with the rules, but “I can deal with that as long as you can deal with mine” you said, confidence growing and you started getting closer. “There will be a baby in here, she’s still young so she is a crier, a screamer, and is messy. I need to know if my child is going to be safe amongst you guys.”
This is your baby, Y/n don’t let her down. “I don’t want smoke or cigarettes near my baby, I don’t want random people touching my baby, and don’t get mad at my baby or me for allowing her to be a baby” You now faced to face with him and he leaned down to your height as if you were 5, it pissed you off. Ukai moved his hand to fix your sleeve that was sliding off your shoulder and showing off your bra strap, causing your heart to flutter. “Deal, just know who runs this place”.
At this point, all you wanted was to be isolated and get away from him. You went to walk away into the bathroom but you were stopped when you felt a hand around your wrist and the hand jerked you back. “Never told me your child's name” I know because I don't want her around this anyways you thought. “Tiana, her name is Tiana. Now let go of my fucking wrist” you said, ticked off, and kept trying to get your wrist out of his hold.
Ukai chuckled at your struggle, he was fucking enjoying it. Sick bastard. Ukai finally let you go thinking that you were in the clear, you continued to the bathroom. You were about to open the door when you felt a tug on your hair causing you to fall back; you felt severe pain as Ukai had a powerful hold on your hair. Ukai let out a loud laugh as if he was making fun of your actions and he looked down at you “I forgot a rule, you don't ever cuss at me” he said, each word was another tug from his hand and another painful hiss from you.
He pulled you back, hard, which led you to fall on your ass. You stayed on the ground for a couple of seconds before he finally left the room. He slammed the door on purpose—fucking bastard. When you felt comfortable enough you got up and went into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror with a thousand thoughts running through your mind only one stood out. What have I gotten myself into?
#haikyuu x y/n#anime#haikyuu x self insert#haikyuu mafia#mafia ukai#ukai x you#ukai x reader#ukai keishin#haikyuu yakuza#tw. dark content#mafia series#haikyuu#haikyuu x poc!reader#uaki x poc!reader#poc!reader#help plz#slowly#i'm dying here#cw cussing#mdni#ukai fic
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
the captain/havers- caught // angst
tw - slurs
read on ao3
he was so close. he was so nearly happy, everything was so nearly perfect. was it not for the stupid, meddling soldier who walked in, everything would have been alright.
———————————————
“sir, i must admit something to you before i am gone and never get the chance to,” havers said, his normal confident facade fading. “yes?” captain queried.
“i know it is wholly inappropriate, but you are what has kept me going. when i received my transfer request, i was heartbroken because it means i must leave you. leave behind the little chats we have in this very office, your perfect smile, your adorable laugh. i will have to get over you. i cannot even love you from afar anymore, sir. because i do love you. more than anyone else,” havers admitted, fixing his gaze on the wall just left of the captains head. “you do?” the captain repeated in disbelief. “i do.” havers hung his head in shame. something overcame the captain, and suddenly he was next to havers, hands cupping his face. they were close enough that havers could feel his captains warm breath on his lips. “sir?” havers whispered, but before he could say anything else their lips were pressed together.
“lord!” a shout from the door sent them both stumbling away from each other. “who would have guessed? our own captain and lieutenant, dirty homosexuals,” spoke the soldier from the doorway. havers and captain both stood frozen where they were, even when the soldier walked over to the captains desk, picked up the phone and reported them straight to the higher powers.
———————————————
they were allowed one last night at button house. banished to the basement, but at least they were together. they would be taken the next day, imprisoned and shot. “i’m so sorry,” havers sobbed into the captains shoulder. “i’m so, so sorry. it’s all my fault. i should have kept it to myself, kept you safe. now we will die, and it shall be my fault entirely.” the captain wrapped his arm around havers, his other hand coming to play with his hair. “it’s alright, love. i’m glad you told me, glad we got to have a moment together. it’s that meddling soldiers fault, it’s the worlds fault for being so unaccepting. it is no fault of yours, my love.” they stayed like that all night, cuddled up to one another, the captain comforting and calming havers. whispered “i love you”s filled the silence. havers eventually fell asleep in the captains arms, finally peaceful. the captain produced a small tablet from his pocket and swallowed it swiftly. “i love you, havers.” he placed a soft kiss to his cheek before drifting into sleep.
———————————————
he woke up the next morning a ghost, and was met with havers desperately shouting and in the grasp of two much stronger men, dragging him away. “captain!” he screamed painfully and desperately, voice braking with his loud sobs. “you can’t just leave him there! he deserves honour and respect. it was my fault, i came onto him. i loved him, i still love him! you can take my honour, you can take my title, you can even take my life, but my love for that man you can never take away from me.” his screams were relentless. captains eyes filled with tears as he followed havers out of the house and into the grounds, his screams not dying down. “shut it, faggot,” one of the men shouted at him. havers continued, visibly frustrating the men. he struggled as they tried to push him out of the gate. another man appeared, holding a pistol. he shot havers in the chest, making him easier to carry out of the gates. “havers! no.” the captain tried to run after him, but always ended up on the other side of the gate. he watched as havers was dragged away, his lover lost forever.
#lgbtq#writing#gay fanfiction#fanfiction#caphavers#fanfic#angst#angsty#but still a bit of fluff#i literally cannot write anything without fluff#ghosts bbc#bbc ghosts havers#bbc ghosts the captain#the captain x havers
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just three little words
MASTERLIST
Summary: three times Emmett realized he loved you and the one time he said it
A/N: yes I am not dead and yes this is...well whatever this is! it's late and I should be asleep but I really wanted to finish this and post it. I honestly don't know what to say, I'm not really proud of it and I'm pretty sure I make no sense but I spent too much time to delete and start over! please, tell me what you think! this is my first time writing for this character and I didn't feel very confident about it so I really need feedback to know what I can improve! anyway I will stop rambling now, hope you enjoy and nice reading! ♡
Warnings: mentions of death, it's a bit sad sometimes and also kind of cheesy ig; I didn't have time to proofread and English isn't my first language
You pushed back the blankets from the simple makeshift bed, shivering. It was the first truly cold night of the season, summer had finally left with its warm days and sweet nights to be replaced by a cold, unforgiving fall.
The basement of the abandoned factory you were living in was freezing which may have been a real advantage the last few months but quickly became a hindrance now that the temperatures were lower.
You pulled the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands, nothing Emmett who was laying blankets on the ground.
“What are you doing?” You asked, frowning
He shot you a confused look, not really understanding what you were talking about. Before he could ask you to be more precise, you objected:
“You’re not sleeping on the ground!”
The man rolled his eyes. Ever since he rescued you and allowed you to stay with him, he let you sleep on the bed he had made. At the beginning because you were in a poor condition and then because the remnants of a past chivalry left in him pushed him to offer the more comfortable place to you. And to be fair, even when you weren’t there, he didn’t use that bed often.
“I think I’ll be okay, just go to bed”
You pursed your lips, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No. You’re not sleeping on the ground! You’re going to catch death and we could use the extra blankets!”
Emmett thought about it for a moment. He didn’t really want to share the same bed as you, it felt awfully wrong to him. But at the same time, you were right. You would both sleep a lot more better and avoid a certain fever if you shared the bed.
Defeated, he sighed, grabbing the plaids and covers from the ground to add them to the other pile of blankets. You took the far left side of the bed, pushing yourself for him to have enough space to lie down as well.
Although it was a bit narrow, there was still place for the both of you without having to be glued to the other’s side.
You sighed happily as the blankets finally seemed enough to keep you warm. You wished Emmett a goodnight and within a few minutes, you had reached a peaceful slumber. He tried to do the same, close his eyes and try to find that undisturbed state. However, he would always end up staring at the ceiling again.
He listened to your regular breathing, glad that you could at least get some rest. Some nights it was impossible for you to sleep and during those nights, you would both stay awake, trying to pass time. You had taught him a few card games which he loved and spent some rare nights where you would just talk. There weren’t many moments where Emmett wasn’t constantly on his guard, tensed or anxious but most of the times he felt slightly relaxed, it was around you.
He remembered the day you found his hiding place. You had to run away from your last home, in the middle of summer. You had wandered in the forest for days, slightly dehydrated and exhausted from the lack of sleep.
You had managed to find the building and in your hazy state, triggered the few traps Emmett had placed. His initial reaction was to make you leave or, if it came to it, use his gun against you.
He then saw the condition you were in, half of him thought it wasn’t his problem and he shouldn’t be caring for a complete stranger but the other half, the more merciful one chose to help you.
He was glad he let you in, he found some sort of peace in your presence. You helped him in more ways he could have imagined and probably even more than you thought you did.
As the hours passed, Emmett witnessed a slow and painful decrease of the warmth in the basement. He noticed the blankets covering you had fallen a bit, making you shiver. He extended his arm to pull them back over your body but you turned around, facing him. Your hand came to rest against his chest, your head nuzzling closer to him.
The man froze, surprised as he felt the warmth emanating from your body shield him from the low temperature around. Hesitantly, he looked down, making sure you were still asleep before sighing. It was a strange sensation, a rather comforting one.
He had had an increasing lack of human touch as the world slowly crumbled around him, turning into this hellish, completely muted place. And he had been too busy thinking about his family’s then his wife’s and finally his own survival, trying to keep his head out of the water that he didn’t realize how cold and forlorn he felt inside.
Your gesture, albeit an involuntary one, brought him a sense of that long lost affection he clearly craved. It felt good to have a…what were you? A friend? The word didn’t feel strong enough to qualify the relationship he had with you.
You were more than a simple “friend”, you were…kind and cheerful and caring. You were the one he could trust, the one he knew he could rely on. You made him want to fight and stay strong long enough to give you more than this life, you made his heart stop and his stomach flutter…and Emmett may not have had many friends but he knew for sure friends didn’t do that. He thought about it for a moment. Maybe he needed to be a little bit daring to find the answer to that question? His eyes fell on your sleeping form and he breathed in deeply. He passed an arm around you, almost timidly and brought you even closer than before. You snuggled up against him, his heart growing twice its size in his chest. Emmett closed his eyes again, feeling more tranquil than ever and finally, as he held your body against his, sleep came to him.
“It’s going to sting” you announced in a soft voice as you pressed the compress against the arch of his right eyebrow
Emmett winced a little which earned him an apologetic smile from you.
“I’m sorry” he muttered after a beat of silence, adding at your confused look “for the groceries”
After leaving this morning to go to the store for supplies but on his way back, he got ambushed. Some survivors hiding in the forest attacked him, attracting the creatures with the noise. Thankfully he had managed to escape almost unscathed before one of the monsters got to him. However, the bags of food and first aid supplies had been lost in the fight.
“Don’t apologize for that, okay? I’m just happy you made it out alive.”
The man sighed, staring at his hands. Over the last few months of you living with him, he had slowly began to care about you, taking it as his responsibility to protect you. Having this urge to make sure nothing happened to you, he only wanted your safety and for you to be as happy and healthy as possible as it was in this world. Maybe it was the fact that he had already lost too much to now lose you as well. Maybe it was the desire to have someone to protect again. Regardless, what happened a few hours earlier only made him feel like he had failed at taking care of you.
“I mean it! We can always go back for the supplies, your life is definitely worth more than a couple of cans to me.”
The man scoffed but still felt his heart miss a beat at your words. You finished patching him up, putting away the first aid kit. However, you didn’t move from your place, you stood between his legs, your soft eyes analyzing his features.
Emmett gazed at you, his face warming up and he almost rolled his eyes at his reaction. He felt like some teenage boy with his silly crush. He was convinced it was insignificant, something that would go away with time. It was a fairly normal reaction, you were the first person he was actually interacting with in the last few months and his mind just associated this with some sort of crush…nothing more. Just a crush.
But Emmett’s breath hitched in his throat as your fingers brushed away the few strands of hair falling over his brow. They trailed all the way down to his right cheek and his beard.
The gesture almost felt ticklish but the man found himself needing for more. Your fingers were so soft…how was he only realizing it now? Your touch provoked a strange sensation in his stomach, his heart began thumping faster, louder, so loud he was convinced you could hear it as well. Nevertheless, you just kept your eyes on him, an innocent smile adorning your face.
And as if it wasn’t enough, you slowly leaned in, letting your lips rest on his cheek for a moment. It was gentle, comforting and a part of him never wanted you to pull away. For just a few seconds, Emmett was convinced he could live just fine if you could kiss him and never stop. The man closed his eyes trying to etch the feeling of your impossibly soft lips against his skin, capture the moment before it disappears, leaving him cold and empty and dying for just another crumb of your intoxicating tenderness.
You finally leaned back, that damned smile still taunting him as you whispered:
“You should lay down, you need to rest”
Emmett was speechless, incapable of forming any coherent words so he just nodded. He lay on the bed as you quietly left the room, his heart still pounding in his chest. The man sighed hopelessly, closing his eyes.
It was definitely not just a crush.
It was a lovely evening. The sun was setting, covering the scenery in hues of warm pink and orange, children were running around, laughing and carefree while their parents chatted away. No whispering, no cautiousness.
You sat on a little bench, Evelyn talking to you about Marcus’ upcoming birthday. It was the first one he would celebrate ever since they left the “other world” like people called it. You promised you would help, it was a special occasion.
On the other side of the bench, Emmett was staring at the camp fire in front of him. He hated these little gatherings. He had absolutely nothing against the people, they had welcomed him on the island, offering him a house and safety. Regardless, he would still rather spend his evening on the couch, reading a nice book with you cuddled up against him.
But your neighbor, Agnes, had insisted, so much you found yourself unable to turn her down. And you had ran out of excuses you could give to avoid the barbecue.
You knew how much Emmett hated this. It was crowded and noisy and people were making small talks. He still agreed to come, you promised you wouldn’t stay too long and be home soon enough to enjoy the rest of the night together.
Evelyn excused herself to check on her children and you turned towards him. He was looking at the kids playing, his eyes lost as he probably tried to remember what his sons’ laughs soundedlike.
He didn’t mention his family a lot, only once when he told you what had happened to them. It was back in the factory, one night when neither of you could find enough peace to sleep. You told him about your old town, your loved ones, your friends, the high school you went to and after being quiet for a while, he mentioned his kids and his wife. You had already guessed he lost his family with all the drawings but you were considerate enough to not bring it up.
You didn’t know that but Emmett felt good about talking to someone who understood his pain. Until that night, he had tried to bury it, keep going because he couldn’t allow himself to grieve. The sorrow was too great, he couldn’t handle it, not if he wanted to survive. But he realized as he heard you speak about your life that trying to forget about his grief was trying to forget about the love he had for them. So he shared some moments of his old life as well: Luke’s passion for baseball, movie nights and afternoons in the park, he talked about having to carry them back to their room because they’d fall asleep in the car, how he used to carry his youngest, Noah on his back when they would go hiking and how his wife always made up the best bedtime stories.
Now, he was looking at those children, wondering what his would be doing if they had the chance to come here, his heart aching for the family he lost when it had been his job to protect them.
Noticing how quiet and absentminded he seemed, you gently took his hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze. He broke out from his thoughts, turning to look at you and you offered him a kind smile.
You reached out to caress his cheek with your free hand, your delicate fingers brushing away his pain.
“Let’s go home, yeah?”
You got up, your hand still holding his. Before leaving, you had the courtesy to tell Agnes you were feeling a bit sick and needed to go home which she thankfully didn’t question.
You walked on the silent roads that lead to your house, never letting go of Emmett. He needed to feel your support, to know he wasn’t alone anymore and could share some of his grief with you.
As you passes the doorstep, you let out a content “ah, home sweet home” before going to sit on the couch. Emmett joined you and you pulled his arm so he could rest his head on your lap. Your fingers began to thread through his hair in a soothing motion.
“They’re proud of you, Emmett.” you broke the silence “I know that from wherever they are, they’re proud of you”
The man nodded, clenching his jaw as you leant in to kiss his temple.
He couldn’t say it out loud but he was grateful for you. And he knew you understood which only made him care more about you. He grabbed the hand you had around him and dropped a kiss over your knuckles, silently acknowledging your comfort. He missed his family terribly, he would have wanted to discover this new world with them but as much as he had lost, he had also found you along the way. You were his second chance to find some sort of bliss, to find harmony and peace.
To find love.
The timid sun rays filtered through the white curtains in the room, the delicate light brushing over your face. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting the clean and simple bedroom.
Your first instinct was to turn around but you only found a cold, empty spot besides yours. You knew Emmett wasn’t working today but he always woke up earlier than you did so it wasn’t unusual for him to get up before you.
After taking a few minutes to enjoy the feathery soft mattress underneath you, trying to remember the dream you had had. Finally, you decided to push back the covers, passing a tired hand over your face as you slipped out of the coziness of your bed.
You walked through the small, quiet house, making your way to the modest living room.
Still nowhere to be seen. You guessed he left to take a walk on the island but as you approached your kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you saw him sitting on the porch steps, his back towards you.
A smile found its place on your face and, after grabbing the plaid laying on your couch, you opened the front door to join him.
He was so lost in his own thoughts he only noticed you when you placed the blanket around his shoulders, softly greeting him.
"‘morning” he answered as you sat down next to him.
Almost instantly, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders so you could be under the blanket as well. Your head came to rest against him and you sighed pleasantly.
Neither of you spoke, it wasn’t really necessary. Your relationship…or whatever it was between you was built on silent agreements, quiet marks of affection and unspoken kisses.
It was probably what Emmett loved the most about it. Yes, loved. Because as difficult as it had been to admit it to himself, Emmett was finally ready to accept he loved you.
But it was actually not as painful as he thought, quite the opposite. He didn’t feel the heart wrenching loneliness anymore, the need to survive but at the same time the wish to just wait for death to come for him and free him from his torments.
No, Emmett was…happy. In the way he could wake up in the middle of the night and find you next to him, the way he could simply kiss your forehead or your cheek or even your lips when he wanted to, the way he could feel your loving touch slowly heal him, piece by piece. For each moment by your side was one more reason he was glad he never gave up.
The only obstacle for him now was that he may have accepted his feelings for you but he had yet to voice them. And that was terrifying him.
He lived in a world full of deadly creatures but the thought of you rejecting him seemed a whole new kind of worse. Of course, he felt terribly stupid for that but he couldn’t help the fear that crept up on him every time he wanted to say it.
And it was simple.
Just three little words.
I. Love. You.
But the idea of you not saying it back left him wordless.
He knew you cared about him, he knew that whatever was going on between you two was miles away from friendship but did you really shared the same feeling he did?
Before his thoughts could swallow him in their dark, profound abyss, Emmett felt your lips against his collarbone.
“Everything alright?” you murmured against his skin.
He lovingly caressed your hair, his heart pounding against his chest as he swallowed thickly. He was about to reply a simple “yes, everything is good” but he chose to be daring again, just like that first night in the factory.
“I love you.” He blurted out
And then silence.
An unbearable, suffocating silence as you heard his confession.
Emmett felt his cheeks heat up, shame and a different kind of hurt he had been used to rushing through his body. He was about to get up, leave and maybe act as if nothing happened. Maybe you could just go back to how things were, maybe nothing had to change.
You pushed yourself away from him. Fear overtook his body and the dread of losing you because of those stupid words, because of his own folly made him dizzy. He was about to mutter some excuse, try to get out of this terrible situation because he couldn’t handle your look of utter disbelief, your lips slightly open in shock. He couldn’t endure your lack of response and your seemingly inability to say the words back.
But to his own surprise, he felt your arms wrap themselves around his neck. You pulled him close to you as relief washed over Emmett. He embraced you back, a pure sense of happiness and contentment overwhelming him.
You leaned back, just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face and you smiled. It was so beautiful, so radiant he was sure the image was now engraved in his memory. And then you said those three little words back:
“I love you too, Emmett”
410 notes
·
View notes
Text
completely floored
✩ jeno x reader | best friends to lovers | fluff | smut | 1.5k
SUMMARY | who knew gaming on the floor like you two used to could change everything between you and your best friend?
WARNINGS | smut, floor s*x, oral s*x (m receiving)
RATING | mature
PROMPT | staring at each other’s lips for a moment before giving in
REQ BY | anonymous
AUTHOR’S NOTE | bless up for the boring jalapeno teasers to give me inspo and i’ve been wanting to write jeno for a long time so hehe i also haven’t played uno in forever sorry if there’s anything off
In Jeno’s basement rental suite, you two are sitting comfortably near each other on his carpeted floor, playing Halo together with your backs leaning against his worn-down sofa.
“You doing okay?” Jeno asks with care, glancing over at your side of the TV screen where you’re blatantly struggling to stay alive from the onslaught of enemies. His gaze then falls on you for a second.
“Yep, doing great,” you singsong, sarcasm laced in your tone. He catches sight of you sticking out your tongue in frustration.
Jeno’s not sure why the expression from you comes off more cute to him than usual. He smiles to himself in amusement and turns his attention back to the game.
It’s been about six months since you’ve last hung out one on one with him. Third year of university has been busy for both of you, but you’ve managed to find some free time now that finals were finally over this semester.
And it feels exactly like old times from high school when you two used to sit on the floor at his parents’ house, gaming until the sun rose.
But things have definitely changed since then.
Like how gorgeous Jeno has gotten.
When you unsurprisingly die and have to wait to respawn until Jeno plows through the current batch of enemies, you waste your time in noticing his chiseled jaw line, the sexiness in his confident grin, and the raw attractiveness that exudes from him.
You shake your thoughts away, attributing them to how you probably just missed hanging out with him, along with the fact that you’ve been single for way too long.
After a couple more rounds of Halo, Uno replaces it as the next game of choice. Still on the floor, you’re now facing each other. About a few feet apart from you, Jeno has a leg pulled nearby to his chest, his arm resting on his raised knee. On the flipside, you’re sitting with lax legs bent onto their sides, parallel to the carpet.
The early rounds of Uno are peaceful, but as it progresses, playful competitiveness emerges. The game shifts drastically when Jeno suddenly plays a handful of draw four cards.
Your jaw swings open, shocked that he held onto so many for so long, and you complain about the unfairness of the situation. Smugly, Jeno shrugs and retorts back that’s simply how the game works.
Twisting your mouth to one side and squinting your eyes, you then drop your cards in a teasing state of anger and launch yourself towards him. Your best friend merely laughs as you attempt to punch him in the arm.
However, things take an unexpected turn. You lose balance and accidentally topple him down towards the carpet, your chest pressing atop of his.
Your faces are inches apart from one another. You’re both heavily breathing, practically inhaling the other’s air.
Each parties’ eyes flickers towards the other’s lips. Your gaze lingers longer than it should and you reprimand yourself because this is your best friend—your drop, dead gorgeous best friend who is looking at your lips with the same craving.
Chest to chest, your hearts race together, pounding against the other almost in sync. Carefully, with a gulp, Jeno gently palms your cheek. Your eyelids flutter to a close.
Lips meet and collide, and you lay your hands on the planes of his chest. You’ve always felt safe around Jeno, but you’ve never felt more safe with him than like this.
Soon enough, the kissing escalates, transforming into ones that drip of neediness and burning desire. Your touches dig deeper into each other. Throughout it, your shirt is thrown aside and you quickly attach yourself back onto him to help him rid of his layers.
Marking his body with a trail of hot kisses, you slowly make your descent towards his significantly hard desire. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new, but now that you have him up-close and all to yourself, you traverse his beauty without hurry.
Peeking up at him when you reach his abs, you see him looking right back with an intent, ravenous stare. Because you’re not used to it, you feel a tingle in your cheeks and brush some hair behind your ear as you continue your trek.
Once at your destination, you strip him of his jeans and brief-boxers. Gasping silently at the sight, his sizable cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. You lick your lips, wanting his length immediately in your mouth. Instead, you restrain yourself and leave feathery kisses upon it.
Jeno sighs at the minimal sensation, his erection twitching in yearning for more. His sighs melt, replaced by sharp gasps and the ruffling of eyebrows as you devour him whole. For what you can’t engulf with your mouth, you pump with your hand.
“God...” he pants, eyeing you closely with with his hands behind his head, bare arms flexing delectably. Saliva begins to pool around his base as you suck endlessly. He peels a hand away and runs his fingers through your hair. “You’re so beautiful.”
Coming up for air, you chuckle as you stroke him steadily. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked you off.”
“No.” Jeno strongly disagrees, a stern glimmer obvious in his eye. Shaking his head, he rises onto his forearms and leans in right up to your face.
Your best friend whispers the following into your mouth as he rubs his thumb tenderly over your cheek—
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”
Another kiss, but this time, lips are crashing fiercely, like it’s the last time you’d ever kiss anybody. Jeno caresses your upper body and similarly, your hand continues to squeeze and jerk him off. Impatiently, you stand to hurriedly remove your bra and tug your bottoms off.
Jeno’s tongue drags along his lower jaw when you rush to your purse to grab a condom; he watches attentively at the perfect view of your ass.
You scuttle back and ease the rubber onto him, and within seconds, you’re sitting on his length. Once he’s completely inside, an acute throaty moan pierces the room and your head cranes back. You’ve never had anyone fill you up so full before, and yet, it doesn’t take much time to acclimatize to his girth.
Riding him, you bounce relentlessly with your weight on your knees and your hands graze his upper frame. You’re gone, blinded by ecstasy, but Jeno’s hazy look doesn’t stray from you.
His pretty fingers glide upward over your stomach, then over your breasts. At first, he thumbs your nipples to play with you prior to kneading them hungrily in their entirety.
Without warning, Jeno seizes your back with one hand and brings himself up, snatching your breasts into his mouth.
“Fuck, Jeno,” you exhale in pleasure, sinking your nails into his flexed back and shoulders. “What are we doing?”
“Do you wanna stop?” he asks between the snug puckering of his lips around your nubs.
“No, no,” you immediately reply, shaking your head profusely. “You feel too fucking good...”
When he’s finished loving your breasts, you gesture for him to lean back down during a kiss. Like before when you fell on him in the beginning, your chests are glued together again, this time now sans clothes.
Your lips maneuver over to his neck, attacking him with kisses, and you fuck him with the your ass jutting out. The wet slaps of your sexes intermingling, Jeno’s panting, and your whines penetrate your surroundings.
“I’m close, I’m close...” he says, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in timing for what’s about to happen.
Dragging yourself away from his neck, you kiss him fervently while you fasten your pace. He moans into your mouth as he unravels, his sweaty palms relaxing against your perspired back. You follow right after, practically reaching your peaks together.
After a few moments, you roll off and lay beside him. Both of you pant towards the ceiling in disbelief. The disbelief that runs through you is immersed with an underlying fear.
“Maybe I should get going...” you say unsurely, sitting up and looking at your clothes at the other side of the floor.
Just because you’ve had sex with him, it doesn’t mean Jeno still isn’t your best friend, nor does it rid of the fact that he knows your change of emotions like the back of his hand. He sits up too, warmly wraps an arm around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your nude arm.
“How about one more game?” he mumbles into your skin.
“Which game?” you whisper curiously.
One more peck, this time on your cheek.
“The game called Stay the Night.”
Your head turns to face him, gazes converging. He flashes you his saccharine smile, his eyes following suit and smiling as well.
“Can’t play it without you, but only if you want to.” He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, causing you to giggle. “What do you say?”
You get lost in his eyes, realizing that maybe you’ve always had something for Jeno, whether you were conscious of it or not.
Despite it all, you know your feelings aren’t unrequited. They can’t be, not with the way he’s looking at you as if you’re his entire world right now.
In response to his proposition, you lean in for another kiss. It’s definitely not the last kiss you give him tonight.
Not by a long shot.
#jeno#jeno x reader#jeno fluff#jeno smut#jeno imagines#jeno scenarios#jeno fanfic#nct fluff#nct smut#nct fanfic#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream fanfic#lee jeno#nct#nctcreations#myrequests#writingrequest
2K notes
·
View notes
Photo
I call this Cobra Drive. AU where a sad boy meets another sad boy in his building elevator and they just stare longingly at each other for extended periods of time. (Daniel LaRusso, who made the crane kick famous, gets to add to his repertoire of bird karate moves by stomping Mike Barnes to death in the same elevator like a secretary bird.)
I also wrote some crap for this AU, even though I am not much of a fanfic writer. However, it’s not that bad. It’s just regular bad.
“If I drive for you, you get your money. You tell me where we start, where we’re going, where we’re going afterward. I give you a five minute window when we get there. Anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours. No matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that and you’re on your own. I don’t sit in while you’re running it down, I don’t carry a gun, I don’t do karate - not anymore. I drive. Do you understand?”
The well-rehearsed speech was delivered in an accent that was undeniably East Coast, but from a man who knew well the 100,000 streets of Los Angeles. Daniel ended it every single time with a secret tribute to his beloved mentor, whose life lessons were always punctuated with “Understand?”
And Daniel did. He always understood what Mr. Miyagi had told him, and replied “Yeah, I understand,” even if some of his lessons had taken awhile to really make their impact on him.
-----
Daniel moved frequently. It was routine now for him. Funny how things changed. He often remembered how monumental that first cross-country move had been, how the course of his entire life had shifted that summer of 1984. Now, his moves were quick, efficient, and all within LA.
On his second day in his newest building, Daniel returned to his apartment by elevator. Another building resident stepped in with him, hauling a basket of laundry from the basement.
He was familiar. Daniel kept his eyes trained at his feet while he felt the familiar man’s gaze on him for a moment. He allowed himself one quick glance, but didn’t manage to time it as well as he’d wanted. The golden-haired man who now shared a building with him was still staring back at him.
His eyes were beautiful and sad.
It was Johnny Lawrence.
-----
“You just move back to LA or something?” was the question Johnny finally settled on after he and Daniel hauled his groceries into his second story apartment. There was too much he wanted to ask. It had been 34 years. Something in those 34 years had hardened the look in Daniel’s eyes.
“No, I’ve been here for awhile.”
“So just new here?”
Daniel nodded.
“What are you up to now, LaRusso?”
“I drive.”
“Like, those internet car things?” Johnny asked, a touch of confusion on his face.
“No, for the movies.”
“You mean all the car chases and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
Johnny let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
Daniel fully met Johnny’s eyes, and stared challengingly, the words “Oh, now you care about my safety and well-being?” hanging between the two of them unspoken. Daniel’s lips quirked into a slight grin. So did Johnny’s. Then Daniel knew. Johnny remembered it all.
The intensity of Johnny’s bright blue eyes and the pain they carried eventually became too much for Daniel, who was the first to drop his gaze. He broke the silence by saying placatingly, “It’s only part time. Mostly I work at a garage.”
“Where?”
“Reseda Boulevard.”
After a few more beats of silence, Daniel nodded his head towards the teen boy sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, as if only just noticing him even though he’d rode up in the elevator with them. “He yours?”
“They sometimes just come with the apartment. Old place here is infested. Overrun with roaches, children, teens. You might want to check under your kitchen counters and shit if you haven’t already, LaRusso.”
The boy snorted, not offended in the least. “I’m Miguel,” he said.
A door in the apartment slammed open, and another teen boy wandered into the kitchen. “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Daniel.
“This is LaRu- Daniel. Daniel, this is Robby.”
Daniel stared at the two teenagers. Neither of them resembled Johnny. Perhaps Johnny hadn’t been kidding about them surfacing from under the kitchen counters.
-----
At the garage, a sly smile spread on the face of the man who’d given Daniel all of his jobs. “Oh, you and the kid know each other,” he said, gesturing rapidly between Daniel and Johnny while leaning over the open hood of a car he’d been working on.
“Don’t,” Daniel warned. He stalked off, but not without grinning at his employer.
“Uh…” Johnny began. A “He kicked me in the face when we were teenagers, but I did sort of deserve it a little, and it’s actually at least a 126 minute-long story” died on his lips.
“We’re neighbors,” Johnny said.
“Ahh,” said Daniel’s employer, as if that was all there was to know.
Johnny explained in more detail what was going on with his Firebird, and was told that the repairs would take a few days.
“Miguel, call us one of those car things from your iComputer.”
“It’s an iPho-”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” cut in Daniel’s employer. “You and the kid are neighbors! He’d be happy to give you a ride.”
Johnny met Daniel’s eyes from across the garage. He did indeed look happy.
---
“Hey, I know you. Come on, we met last year! Well - met again. It’s me. Snake. You drove me and Dennis back from Palm Springs. Hey, I got this sweet job planned out --”
Fury blazed in Daniel’s eyes. Someone both recognizing him and talking to him about his jobs was more than enough to make Daniel disappear for a few months, but this wasn’t just any someone. This was one of Terry Silver’s men. Over the years, Daniel had done everything he could to be free of Terry and his mob. But every time Daniel thought he was safe, eventually, Terry would always come back. And there would always be a job.
Terry’s man - and therefore Terry himself - reappearing in his life would have been bad enough before, but now? Now he had Johnny. He couldn’t just pick up and leave. He realized with anger burning up in his chest that he didn’t want to pick up and leave.
Daniel cut Snake off with a low whisper. “How about this? Shut your mouth. Or I’ll kick your teeth down your throat, and shut it for you.”
All Daniel had wanted was to finish his dinner and coffee in peace, until it was time to drive Johnny to the bar for his night shift. Daniel stared at Snake, never taking his eyes off of him until Snake quietly retreated from the diner. Only then did Daniel feel comfortable returning to his food.
-----
Daniel’s face took on a detached and aloof manner when he addressed the man Terry had sent.
“When you get your money, his debt’s paid. He’s out for good. And you never go near his family again. Do you understand?”
-----
Daniel did everything in his power to keep his voice even. Confident. Balanced. But that voice on the other end of the phone would always terrify him. Some things never changed.
“I’m going to give you a time and a place and you’re going to come and get your money. Do you understand?”
Terry barked out a laugh. “What do you get out of it, Danny boy?”
“Just that: out of it.”
Daniel hung up. For once he had the satisfaction of dictating terms with Terry Silver.
-----
“They came to my apartment. How did they know where I live?”
“I told you, I was going to call Kreese, I just wanted him to know that… that it wasn’t about the money… that you’re not interested in the money… that you just did it for him.”
Daniel exploded at the man who had been his longtime employer. So this was how Kreese and Silver and known it was him. “Why?! You told them about Johnny! Why did you tell them about Johnny?!”
“Calm down, kid. Just calm down.”
“I should fucking kill you - you told them about Johnny! That’s how they figured it out, you know - that it was me. You told them about Johnny and then they knew it was me.”
“I just wanted him to know… that as soon as you returned the money, that was the end of it, that’s all! I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know?! How was I supposed to know… that everything led to Silver!”
Daniel’s voice was breaking as he screamed at the old man. Daniel’s eyes were wild and he was breathing hard. Breathe in, breathe out, echoed the voice of his dear sensei in his head. Soon, his racing heart slowed just enough for him to calmly tell his employer, “They came for me, and now they’re going to come for you, too. You have to get out of here. Do you understand?”
-----
John Kreese pleaded with his lifelong friend. “Anybody finds out you stole from the family, we’re both dead. The money always flows up, Twig. You know that!”
Terry Silver fell uncharacteristically quiet amidst their shouting match. He looked at Kreese ruefully. “That’s why this driver’s gotta go, Johnny. That’s why he’s gotta go. He’s gonna tie me to this robbery.”
It was too bad. Terry had always been fond of Daniel.
-----
Daniel hoped he would never again have to fear for Johnny’s and his kids’ lives. He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror. Miguel and Robby were fast asleep in the backseat - and safe. Alive.
Daniel did, however, find comfort in knowing that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to keep his karate hidden and tucked away. If Johnny ever needed it again, Daniel would use it. He’d help Johnny remember his. He thought fondly of the way Mr. Miyagi had once insisted that only Daniel’s root karate came from Mr. Miyagi, and had urged him to make his karate his own.
If Daniel could do it, so could Johnny. Johnny’s Cobra Kai would be better - different, new. A product of the goodness Daniel was confident Johnny had inside of him. Johnny would use that goodness to teach Robby and Miguel. And Daniel vowed to be there with them.
If anyone ever again tried to hurt any of them, the four of them would be ready.
Another Mr. Miyagi lesson surfaced in Daniel’s memories as he continued driving. Back in 1994, Mr. Miyagi had returned to Daniel in LA after a long stay in Boston, and over the course of several days, had told him all about Julie Pierce, and the lessons he taught her. The final lesson had been: “Fighting not good, but if must fight - win.”
That was what Daniel had done.
Daniel smiled at the beautiful man in the passenger seat next to him, whose sadness never left his eyes, but who, despite this, could now smile back warmly at him. Daniel checked the rearview mirror once more, never taking his attention from the road ahead of them. Miguel and Robby were both still asleep.
Daniel turned his gaze back to the road for a moment, feeling the hum of the car around him and those he loved.
“I’m yours. No matter what. Do you understand?”
-----
OH SHIT i forgot to mention, the idea for the cobra on the back of the jacket AND for including Robby both come from @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy !!!! Thank you for your moral support and help on these concepts! I always knew I wanted Daniel to be the Driver, so it didn’t even OCCUR to me to have the cobra on his jacket, until @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy said it, and then she said he can give it to Johnny later (even though it won’t fit him haha!). Just a note - I changed up the cobra design from the Cobra Kai logo though because the original logo looked kinda goofy as a silhouette.
#lawrusso#my art#cobra drive#that read more thingy better DAMN work hahaha cause this is long but... if for whatever reason it didn't i am sorry#this does feel kind of empty without the Favorite though hhahaah#there is definitely a bird shaped hole in this AU and i miss my lil Hawk
225 notes
·
View notes
Text
what a shame it would be - rodrick heffley
in which rodrick takes a few too many shots...
cw: underage drinking, swearing
word count: 3,228
~~~
Great victories deserve great parties.
That was the way of thinking at Crossland High School when it came to homecoming. After weeks of anticipation from the entire student body, the Crossland football team had defeated their rivals with one touchdown in the last five minutes of the homecoming game. It didn’t matter that half the school didn’t care much about football to begin with - with a victory that big, there were bound to be parties all over town.
As a varsity cheerleader, you weren’t surprised that you were invited to the biggest homecoming party in town. And you weren’t surprised by the atmosphere when you arrived, either.
Music blasted in your ears as you entered through the backdoor of the crowded house. Cheerleaders were laughing so loud you could feel it in your whole body, people were drunkenly dancing and making out with each other on the dance floor, and the football team was taking a celebratory round of shots for their biggest win. Hell, you even saw the student body council and academic decathlon team on the dance floor. Bottles upon bottles of all kinds of alcohol were being pulled out at the bar - kegs of beer, bottles of tequila and vodka, and a giant bowl of punch that was being spiked with a frothing drink. Still, the abundance of alcohol wouldn’t last long at a party this big. But before you could get to the bar to get your pick, you heard your name being called from across the room.
“Y/N!”
There were too many people covering your view to see who called you when you turned around, but you knew exactly who it was coming from. It wasn’t too hard to weave your way through the drunken couples and football players to find him.
Rodrick was leaning against the basement’s doorframe, wearing his favorite Converse, a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, and his Loded Diper t-shirt with a cargo jacket. He ruffled his unkempt, raven hair and took a long swig from his solo cup.
“Give me your keys.”
You raised your eyebrows, stifling a laugh. “Well, hello to you, too.”
After taking another sip of his drink, he held out his hand. Rolling your eyes, you took your lanyard and dropped your keys in his hand, which he put in the pocket of his jacket.
“There we go.” His mouth quirked up into a smirk. “I thought you said you’d never go to another homecoming party again after last year. You still owe me for that, you know.”
Memories of Rodrick holding you steady as you stumbled to his van and slurred your words resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t hide the tinge of embarrassment that crept up on your cheeks.
“I wasn’t that drunk.”
“Do you or do you not remember me having to brush your teeth because you forgot how to do it yourself?”
Your once pink cheeks now turned scarlet. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.
“Fine. But I definitely don’t owe you anymore after being the only reason you didn’t fail physics last year.”
He paused, taking another drink from his cup. You could tell the alcohol was beginning to slow his thoughts already.
“I guess I stand corrected.”
You cursed yourself for being sober, wishing you had more confidence to flirt with him. You swallowed the forming lump in your throat and attempted a compliment.
“Look at you, making yourself look nice for homecoming. You even got the new converse and eyeliner and everything.”
God, that couldn’t have been worse. You mentally facepalmed yourself as the words left your mouth.
He chuckled. “Well, I’ve gotta make myself look nice if I’m gonna get one of these cheerleaders to go home with me, right?”
Your embarrassment dissipated into a twinge of disappointment. Quick to cover up any sort of reaction, you cleared your throat.
“I’m gonna go get myself something to drink. See you around, Rodrick.”
You heard him call out a warning about “knowing your limits,” but you didn’t turn around or respond. At first, you were only planning to get buzzed tonight. Your disappointment, however, made a change to your plans.
“Hey, Y/N,” your friend, Allison, said from the bar with a wave. “What do you want to drink?”
“Something strong,” you insisted. With a nod, Allison filled a solo cup with vodka and topped it off with the frothing punch.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She asked as she handed you the cup. You took a swig, ignoring the way the alcohol burned your throat.
“Who knows,” you sighed. “I just got back from talking to Rodrick.”
Allison raised her eyebrows. You paused for a moment, but you gave in to the temptation of getting your feelings out. “Every time I try to flirt with him, I feel like he ignores it. Or worse, he just brings up other girls.”
“Maybe you’re just not flirting hard enough,” Allison suggested. Her comforting smile became smug, pointing to the solo cup in your hand. "Or maybe that liquid courage will finally get you to tell him how you feel.”
The taste in your mouth turned sour at her teasing. Last year’s drunken shenanigans seemed harmless compared to any hypotheticals of you blurting out “Hey Rodrick, I’ve had a crush on you since last homecoming!” and forgetting it by morning. You placed your cup on the bar, deciding that your original plan of a buzz was the safer option. “Actually, I think I’m gonna stick to beer tonight.”
Allison let out a laugh. “Whatever you say. But your feelings are gonna eat you alive at some point. You’re gonna have to tell him how you feel eventually.”
“Emphasis on eventually. See you, Allison.” You gave her a small wave and went out to the dance floor, hoping to find some of your friends and dance your way into forgetting about Rodrick.
~~~
As the wild night began to die down, waves of stumbling high schoolers started leaving the party. Watching the clock hit 3 AM, you decided that it was time for you to head home. Waving goodbye to your friends, you made your way out of the house and to your car, more than ready to open the door and practically fall asleep at the wheel and-
Damnit.
That asshole still had your keys, didn’t he?
Pulling out your phone, you called Rodrick, nearly praying that he didn’t already leave. As you put your phone to your ear, you heard another phone’s ringtone go off. Muttering a “what the hell?” under your breath, you looked up from your car.
Rodrick was standing on the sidewalk across the street, holding onto a streetlight pole as though it was taking everything in his power not to fall.
A noise of both amusement and concern left your lips, and you hung up the call and made your way over to him.
“Hi,” was all he said. His eyes were glazed over and a sheepish smile was spread across his face.
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, how the tables turn, huh?”
“I don’t,” he paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You let out a laugh. “You’re drunk off your ass.”
“No, I’m not!” He blurted out defensively. You cocked your head, giving him a do-you-really-think-you’re-gonna-convince-me look. After a moment, he sighed. “Maybe I’m a little drunk.” He let out another sigh, but it quickly turned into a fit of giggles.
Suppressing the thought that his drunken giggles were extremely cute, you draped his arm over your shoulders. “Come on, drummer boy, let’s get you home.” Rodrick leaned his bodyweight into your side, trying not to fall in the middle of the street.
“I like that nickname.”
“Where’d you put my keys?” You asked him. Instead of answering, he broke into another fit of giggles. With a sigh, you pushed down your embarrassment and started rummaging through the pockets of his jacket. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck, making butterflies swarm in your gut. You tried your best to ignore them and finally pulled out your keys from his pocket, helping him into the passenger seat of your car.
“Wanna hear something funny? I wanted to take home the cheerleader with me. But now the cheerleader is taking me home.” His smile turned into a smirk as he buckled his seatbelt, and you reminded yourself that he was only joking.
“You’re a pervert.”
“You’re pretty.”
Your eyes widened at what Rodrick had just said. The next second, you couldn’t be more thankful that it was too dark to see the blush on your cheeks. You believed that he meant what he said for a second, but the smell of alcohol on his breath brought you back to reality.
“You’re really drunk.”
“You’re really pretty.”
Instead of responding, you started the car and turned on the radio, hoping that it would act as a distraction.
Pulling out of the driveway, you started the drive home. You heard Rodrick laugh again from the passenger’s seat. And then he placed his hand on your thigh.
Your eyes widened in shock, and you tried to stop your breathing from turning shallow. “What are you doing?”
“Flirting with you.”
Your cheeks burned at his direct manner, but you reluctantly took his hand off your thigh. “You can’t flirt with me when you’re drunk.” Pulling into his driveway, you helped him out of your car and to his front door. You grabbed the spare key from under the doormat and opened the door.
After helping him to his room, you filled up an empty glass with water and grabbed a bottle of pain medicine from his kitchen, bringing it upstairs and placing it on his nightstand.
“Here’s for tomorrow when you have a hang-“
“I don’t remember how to take off my shoes.” Rodrick looked up at you from where he was sitting on his bed, his blank stare turning into another eruption of laughter. “I sound like you right now.”
You sighed, letting out a chuckle. You took off his Converse and his jacket, placing them in his closet.
“Well, as long as you don’t need anything else I better get going-“
Before you could finish your sentence, Rodrick grabbed you and pulled you onto his bed. “Can you stay a little while?” Your cheeks burned even brighter, and you knew he knew it too. His flirting was overwhelming; you thought you were going to explode from the butterflies. Still, you managed to stay somewhat composed.
“You need to sleep.”
“I don't want to sleep.”
You shook your head, but the look on Rodrick’s pleading face was enough to convince you. “Fine.”
“Why don’t you let me flirt with you?”
“What?”
Rodrick was looking directly at you. “I always try to flirt with you. And then you act like I’m just joking.”
You wanted to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about, that he was just drunk and the alcohol was talking. But Allison’s words of advice were echoing in the back of your head.
You’re going to have to tell him how you feel eventually.
“Because I didn’t think you could ever be serious about actually liking me.”
His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Of course I’m serious. You’re the prettiest girl in school, you like good music, and you’re just so nice. And pretty.”
You let out a chuckle. “I bet you weren’t thinking those things when you were brushing my teeth for me last year.”
"Yes, I was," He moved a piece of hair from your face. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you, Y/N.”
The smell of alcohol on his breath was enough to make you want to burst into tears. Here you were, laying on Rodrick Heffley’s bed, close enough to make out the dark outline of his pupils, and you were confessing how you felt for him. And he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.
“Can I kiss you?”
His abrupt question silenced your thoughts. “What?”
He closed his eyes and started leaning in for the kiss, but once you processed what he had just asked, you pulled away. “Not right now.”
“Why not?”
You took a deep breath, trying to slow your racing heartbeat. “Tell you what. If you wake up tomorrow and you decide that you still want to kiss me, you can kiss me.”
He thought about your offer for a moment. “Okay. But tomorrow feels so far away.”
“Tomorrow won’t feel far if you go to sleep.”
He smiled and buried his head into your side. “You’ll stay until I fall asleep, right?”
“Right.”
“Promise?”
You felt the urge to cry again. You knew that every promise made tonight would be broken by tomorrow.
“Promise.”
You laid in his bed as his breathing slowed into soft snores. Taking one last look at him, you gently climbed out of his arms. As much as you wanted to stay, wanted to wake him up and confess every feeling you had for him, wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, you knew that would be wrong. You had to ease the inevitable future pain as much as you could.
So you grabbed your keys and left, not finding it in you to look back.
~~~
When Rodrick woke up, he could barely find the energy to open his eyes. The ache he felt across his entire body was throbbing, but he fought the urge to give in and go back to sleep. Opening his eyes, he saw a glass of water and pain medicine sitting on his nightstand.
Considering how awful he felt, there was no way he put that there. Taking two of the pills and downing the glass of water, he tried to connect some of his memories of the night before. As the medicine started to set in, some of his fuzzy memories began to clear. Taking a shot of tequila with his bandmate, taking another shot of tequila with his bandmate, your face turning bright red when he reminded you of when he took care of you last homecoming.
Even though he’d never find the courage to admit it, you looked cute when you blushed. And he always seemed to have butterflies in his stomach around you after last year's homecoming party. But there would be absolutely no way he would ever admit that.
You probably were the one that got him home last night. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that you saw him that drunk, even if he’s seen you even drunker before. He hoped he hadn’t said anything too humiliating to you last night.
His stomach twisted with another wave of embarrassment. What had he said last night?
He stood up, noticing your jacket laying on the other side of his bed. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and unknown embarrassment. He picked up your jacket and grabbed his keys to his van, ready to give it back and thank you for getting him home last night.
But when he picked up the jacket, more memories flooded his mind. You laying in his bed, him pulling the hair out of your face, you being close enough to him that he could have kissed you.
Oh, shit.
He ran to his closet and threw on his converse, too frantic to even tie them. Running out the door, he practically jumped into his van and started the drive to your house.
~~~
You sat on your porch, drinking a cup of coffee and enjoying that crisp October air on your cheeks. Thankful that you didn’t have even the remnants of a hangover, you were certain that every upperclassman at Crossland was sporting a massive one.
You opened your phone and anxiously twiddled your thumbs at the keyboard. You wanted to text Rodrick and ask him how he was feeling, but you were too nervous to contact him after last night. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you would ever be able to look him in the eyes again.
Your concern for him overshadowed your embarrassment. No matter where your relationship with him stood after last night, you still cared about him. Pulling his contact up on your phone, you typed a short message.
Morning, sleepyhead. You feeling ok after last night?
But just as you were about to hit send, you saw a van barreling down your street from your peripheral vision. You didn’t need to see the messy writing on its side to know who’s van it was, either.
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Did Rodrick remember what happened last night? Was he here to reject you, to tell you that he couldn’t even be friends with you anymore? You wanted to run inside your house and pretend you weren’t home, but you felt frozen in place.
The van pulled into your driveway, and Rodrick stepped out from the driver’s seat. He was still wearing the same outfit from the night before, but he had his drumsticks in one hand and your jacket in the other. He ran up to your porch, almost frantically.
“Y/N?” He said.
You took a shaky breath, trying to act as casual as possible. “Hey, Rodrick, you feel okay after last night?”
“I’ve had worse hangovers. Er, you left my jacket at my house.” He handed you your jacket.
“Thanks.” You shifted on your feet nervously, looking for the right thing to say. See you Monday? Sorry I confessed my feelings to you last night?
Rodrick looked down at his feet. “Can we talk?” He blurted out.
A plethora of curses went through your head, and you felt the urge to run into your house and curl up in a fetal position until you disappeared. Still, you stayed standing where you were.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Last night, did we,” he anxiously twirled his drumsticks in his hands, “did we kiss?”
Your eyes widened. He did remember last night.
“Well, you wanted to kiss me.” Your stomach churned, and your head was swirling with so many thoughts that you couldn’t stop talking. “But we didn’t kiss because it was just the alcohol talking and I know you didn’t actually want to kiss me and that last night was just the alcohol and I get that you wouldn’t want to kiss me which is totally fine and really it’s no big deal-“
“It wasn’t the alcohol talking.”
Rodrick looked up from the ground and stepped closer to you. You had never seen him look more serious in your life.
“Y/N, everything I said last night. I meant it.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve... I’ve felt this way about you for a while. And I know I’m not a serious person, but I am really serious about this. And I really, really like you.” He took another step closer, and once again, he was close enough that you could see the outline of his pupils.
“So about that promise we made last night,” your breath hitched in your throat, “I think it would be a shame if we broke it.”
“You’re right,” Rodrick’s shy smile spread into a smug grin. He lifted your chin so your faces were barely inches apart.
“It'd really be a shame, wouldn't it?.” He said, closing the gap between your lips.
#Rodrick Heffley#Rodrick Heffley x reader#rodrick x reader#rodrick#rodrick rules#doawk#doawk rodrick rules#diary of a wimpy kid#not my rodrick#my rodrick#devon bostick#heffley#Rodrick Heffley one shot#rodrick one shot#rodrick x reader one shot#Rodrick Heffley x reader one shot
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!
Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.
drowning in the sea of you by Corpium
Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.
Wake Me Up by ToAStranger
Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.
Tremors by Corpium
(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)
Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft
Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?
Bite Down by EclipseWing
In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.
as you are by veterization
Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.
Call My Name by KouriArashi
After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.
Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi
Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.
Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato
Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.
Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24
At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.
Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.
Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede
The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.
The Will by Guede
We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.
On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede
“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”
“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”
Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).
Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)
Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.
OR
The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.
Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.
Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter
The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.
It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.
Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday
In the beginning, there are three absolutes.
One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.
Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.
Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.
Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.
Three absolutes.
You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn
Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.
Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter
Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills.
And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.
Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith
Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.
Paths cross.
Open Wounds by Guede
Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.
Bittersweet Creek by Guede
When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.
For Great Justice! by Green
Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.
"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."
Bone Deep by ShippersList
A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.
Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.
Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi
Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.
Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)
Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.
Til Death by Bunnywest
“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks.
“Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is.
“He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her.
The camps……aren’t camps.
Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.
Ink Blossoms by Triangulum
"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.
"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.
"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."
"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."
Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.
"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.
"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.
After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)
It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.
After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.
love me lights out by veterization
Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)
Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)
“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16.
“Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,”
‘Bambi’.
“Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous.
Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.
-
Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.
Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363
Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.
Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.
Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."
Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
“What. Is that.”
Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.
“Her name’s Lily.”
Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.
“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”
“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”
“Who the fuck is Becca?!”
Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest
The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.
The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”
You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.
The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)
"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.
Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.
Chris cocks his gun.
"You killed my father," he says.
"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.
"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.
"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"
[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]
A Curious Magic by Triangulum
Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.
So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.
Light in the Dark by cywscross
It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.
~~
Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.
Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross
Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.
--
Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.
He doesn't expect to have company.
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: T for language and mild medical drama
Warnings: Brief depictions of medical treatments for blood loss and its symptoms
Genre: Hurt + comfort
Summary: Bela has always wondered who her soulmate was, the person she was connected to by red string. When she finally meets them, she's devastated to find them hanging in her basement, being drained of blood. But her soulmate won't die- not if she can do something about it.
Notes: Soulmate AU in which people have a red thread tied to their left ring finger (or elsewhere if missing the finger/hand), which connects to their soulmate. By default the string is taut/tight, only getting loose when the pair is relatively close to each other.
1: Stem The Flow
How long had she waited for this day? How long had Bela monitored the red string tied to her hand, waiting for it to be anything other than taut? A decade, at the least, if not two or more. For so long she had dreamt of her soulmate, albeit discreetly, wondering about every facet of their being. Entire days had been spent imagining them, and how they would come into her life. Sometimes, on those days, she would gently tug her end of the thread. Every single time, without fail, her soulmate had returned the motion. It warmed her heart more than she’d ever admit, to know that her excitement was not one-sided.
At times, it did worry her, the feelings in her chest reminding her of her youngest sister. Daniela was obsessed with love, dangerously so, to the point of being downright delusional. More than once her “affections” had gotten their family into some sort of trouble. No matter how mature Bela considered herself to be, there was a part of her that worried about repeating her sister’s mistakes. What if her excitement about her partner led her to overlook something crucial? What if the person in question posed a threat to her family? How easy would it be, then, for her to cut them off?...
Today, perhaps, she would find out.
The sun had set over the Romanian landscape, and with the moon rose the Dimitrescu household. First out of bed, as always, Bela wasted no time in getting dressed. Hazy visions of her fading dreams clouded her mind, tugging on her thoughts as always. Most days they felt more like memories than anything else. Today, they are quieter than usual, easily fading into the background. When the last traces of her grogginess disperse, Bela finds herself glancing at her left hand. It’s a daily habit, although discreet, that always leaves her with bittersweet feelings.
“Wait…” Bela whispered, as her eyes took in the unexpected sight: The red string of fate, tied to her left ring finger, loose as can be. It trails to the ground, coiled a single time, before heading underneath her door. “Am I dreaming?” She does not bother to pinch herself to check. Instead she practically jumps into her shoes, dashing out of her room with unfamiliar glee. Maidens in the hallways have to leap aside to avoid her, but she does not care, for once ignoring the standards her mother had instilled in her. If her sisters could be chaotic, we couldn’t she?
So she follows the thread, eagerly, without even wondering why it was so loose. No, she didn’t think about the implications of the situation. In her mind, it did not matter why her soulmate was finally within her reach, it simply mattered that they were. Soon enough they would be in her arms, safe, with nothing else to bother them. And then she’d be happy, finally having someone she was on equal terms with. Finally having someone to confide in, to cherish, to whisper sweet nothings to in the dead of the night.
She doesn’t hesitate until she finds the string wrapped around the door to the basement. At last the signs click together in her mind, like a conspiracy board bound with crimson ties. Instantly panic replaces whatever excitement she had been feeling. Then she’s abandoning all sense of caution, throwing open the door and rushing forward, dispersing into a swarm to cover more ground. Even if she could no longer see the thread in this form, she was certain that she’d know exactly who her soulmate was when she saw them.
And, well, she does. Something calls her to the far corner of the main room, where a body was suspended from the ceiling by its hands. An all-too-familiar needle was sticking out of the person’s arm, leading down to a large glass container, which was slowly filling with blood. The scent made Bela’s nostrils flare, and her eyes go wide, but she did her best to fight against her instincts. Quickly she gets to her knees, examining the jar to see how full it was. Most of the measurement lines were faded, having been worn out over time, making it harder to estimate the volume. In the end, Bela guessed that the container could fit just over six liters inside. Which meant that the person had lost close to… two and a half. That was bad- behind bad, really. Horrible, actually. Immediately life threatening to the point of having been life threatening before Bela had even woken up.
“Don’t die on me, please,” she half cried half shouted, jumping into action as best as she knew how. Not even bothering to turn the nozzle on the device, she pulls the needle out of her soulmate’s arm, cursing when more blood rushes out of the hole. Then she’s applying pressure, hard as she can, beyond glad that they weren’t awake for this. One hand goes to tear a piece of fabric off of their shirt. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind, all things considered. Next, Bela ties the cloth around the collection point, making less of a tourniquet and more of a generic bandage. “Shit, you need a transfusion, don’t you?... Fuck, fuck, what’s your blood type?”
Knowing that she wouldn’t be getting a verbal answer any time soon, Bela settled for dipping a finger into the jar, bringing it to her lips, and licking. The difference in taste among blood types was subtle, but she was nothing if not a professional at this point. Still, the type is not immediately clear to her, and she knows that she might have to go around licking more blood from other prisoners. Unless… could someone receive a transfusion of their own blood? Such a thing had never happened at the castle before, but there was a first time for everything.
“Hold on, I’ll figure this out, somehow, I promise,” Bela said, gently taking her patient’s hand in her own. Taking your hand.
When you wake, you find yourself among the softest sheets you have ever felt, as if laying on clouds themselves. But your vision is blurred, and your head is besieged by waves of pain. A whimper makes its way past your lips. For a moment all you can do is tense up, unsure of any detail of your situation, unable to discern anything around you. Then you feel a hand on your own, squeezing gently. Something about it sends a rush of comfort throughout your entire body. Still, you are more confused than anything, and you find yourself trying to sit up out of instinct.
Without warning the hand lets you go, only for the owner to shift their weight, climbing on top of you in an instant. They’re holding you down, saying words that don’t quite reach your ears. For how light they are, they manage to put an impressive amount of pressure on you, easily rendering you immobile. Unfortunately, this position does little to ease your anxiety. The last thing you could remember was a very, very tall lady sticking a needle in your arm with a cruel laugh. Based on how you felt, there was still a needle in your arm. But you had been standing, or hanging, before, and now you were on your back.
“Whathe… wha the ‘ell… can’t 'hink,” you muttered, stumbling over your own tongue. Whoever sits on top of you tries to comfort you, running a hand through your hair. “Who are you?” You asked, even though you couldn’t understand a word this person said. Their voice might as well have been in another language, with the way your addled brain processed it. Had you lost too much blood? Or maybe you had a concussion? “I just. I just wanted to meet them. Please, I jus… I just wanna see my soulmate.”
Again, you cannot understand what the person says in response, but they finally seem to understand this. One of their hands reaches out and grabs your left one, slowly tapping your fingers, one by one. When they reach your ring finger, they pause, gently holding it. For a few moments you’re left even more confused. Then, with a surge of warmth in your chest, the dots are connected. Whoever is with you quietly grabs the thread attached to your finger, before tugging gently. In order for them to do that… well, there was only one explanation. They were your soulmate. They were the one you had gone to this accursed castle to meet. Somehow they had saved you, and everything was finally looking up.
Mind clearing slowly, you’re finally able to understand something they- or she, as far as you can tell- say.
“Rest now, my beloved. You are safe in my care, this I promise.”
#bela dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#brought to you by this enby and their criminal hands#this is shorter than most of my chapters but its also a bonus#so take what you can get my dudes#pls enjoy
386 notes
·
View notes
Text
happiness - peter maximoff
yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻
!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!
word count: 5k <3 😳
warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is
feedback is appreciated <3
tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)
masterlist
haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime
leave it all behind
& there is happiness
Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.
There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.
He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.
Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?
It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.
And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.
Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.
Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.
His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.
He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.
When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.
But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.
It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.
That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.
You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.
That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.
As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.
Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.
Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.
But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.
“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.
He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.
With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.
It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.
“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.
The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.
What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.
There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.
Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.
You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.
In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.
As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”
The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.
Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.
While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.
“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.
For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.
He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.
If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.
If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.
“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.
You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.
“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.
“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.
In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.
“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.
Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.
His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.
As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.
Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.
Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.
You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.
However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.
Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.
You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”
“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.
With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.
“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.
Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.
It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.
You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.
“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.
“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.
“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.
“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.
“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.
“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.
“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.
Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”
You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.
Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”
Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.
“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.
“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.
You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”
Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”
“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.
Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”
A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.
“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.
“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”
“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.
Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.
“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.
“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.
Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”
Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.
You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.
“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.
Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.
“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.
A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.
“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.
“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.
You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”
“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.
“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.
His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”
Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.
It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.
Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.
His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.
With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.
#peter maximoff#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x reader#wandavision x reader#wandavision spoilers#x men x reader#avengers x reader#marvel x reader#mcu#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff x reader
625 notes
·
View notes
Text
HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 4)
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Famous Shakespeare Lines, February 2021:
Short Life For A Daffodil by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco have a wild daughter who likes to pull up daffodils and frustrate her parents, but the duo wouldn't be without their children.
Friends Dont by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - "You don’t choose who you fall for!” “No, because I sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here now would I?” Hermione mourns the loss of a relationship.
The Malfoy Mistress by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Unable to bear the sight of Bellatrix carving into Hermione Granger at Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy whisks his hated former schoolmate to safety. He should have known better.
Rules of Engagement by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Lucius just had to be difficult about the idea of Draco and Hermione getting married. Will Draco and Hermione allow him to throw his weight around, or will they bring him to heel?
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Popular 90's TV Shows, March 2021:
The Death of Theo Nott by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “Hermione.” Her head whipped up to see the broken expression in Draco’s eyes. “He wouldn’t kill himself.”
The Night of the Rats by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - What happens when a prank war goes too far?
Perfect Harmony by Talonwillow (TalonWillow) - T, one-shot -Professor Slughorn's star Potions pupil Hermione was tired of being the ugly duckling, so she created a potion that would transform her into a beautiful swan. Everyone seemed to like the shiny new version of her... Well, except for herself and maybe one other. Would Draco Malfoy convince her that what everyone else was seeing was what he saw every day, and would Hermione finally be able to live in Perfect Harmony?
Dramione Go Star Trekking by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot -
Riker has made a pass at Hermione and she doesn't quite know how to deal with it.
Bloody Colonials by Maira - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger has had a long week, and the last thing she wants to do is leave the comfort of her home. But when her best friend asks for her help in dealing with a possible cursed object, what can she do but help?
Brownies, Potion-making robe etiquette, and a cursed Nigerian mask all add up to a typical night at Hogwarts. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
The Latest Teenage Drama by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Teenagers. Gotta love em. Teenage dramas? Not so much. Draco and Hermione navigate the perils of unwanted teenage behaviour - 90s family sitcom style.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Around the World, April 2021:
The Assignment by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco, Aurors, have been sent to Cape Town on a top secret assignment - to track down a former Death Eater.
Finding Them by KrysKrossZee - T, WIP - After not finding her parents in Austrailia, Hermione enlists Draco's help and the two make their way to Vancouver when they have a new lead.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Language of Flowers, May 2021:
Spilled Ink by Maira - M, one-shot - It's nearly Christmas, and things aren't great. Draco Malfoy is still on house arrest due to the Wizengamot being a bag of dicks. Hermione Granger is out of the country on a job, which means he won't see her for a few weeks.
And to top it all off, Hermione has sent Draco a plant. A green, spiky plant, for no reason that he can fathom. Oh, and a spelled journal that he's now supposed to write in. Because nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan. Written for the DFW Deal or No Deal Challenge!
Forever by Art3misiA - M, one-shot - Though they may be gone, our memories of them remain forever.
The Little Things by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When Hermione buys Draco a cup of coffee and leaves it on his desk, it throws Draco through a loop and he wonders what he should get her in exchange.
The Climbing Vine by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - After receiving some startling news, Draco runs out of the house. He receives some advice from a surprising source.
Changing of the Seasons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - Hermione & Draco find a local park and two unlikely faces to greet them.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Draco's Birthday Soundtrack, June 2021:
Straight to the Heart by AdAsttra - T, one-shot - Draco's ready to tell Hermione how he feels, but Cupid has other ideas.
Stick Around by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione doesn't know why Draco is the only one who makes her feel safe, but she is glad that she is able to get some reprieve from her brain.
Wild and Wired by Maira - M, one-shot - Need your lovin' here beside me, Need it close enough to guide me, I've been hopin' you would find me, You're the biggest part of me. - Hermione was expecting a fun night out with her boyfriend and her friends. She was not expecting ice cubes, sick ponies, and a serenade beautiful enough to melt her heart. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
Let's Get Serious (Please, for the Love of Merlin!) by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Draco wants to get serious, but Hermione isn't so sure. Will their opposing views make or break them?
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Magical Monsters, July 2021:
There's A Zouwu In My Basement by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When a creature has broken into the Malfoy Manor dungeon, Draco has to call for help.
Miseria by crochetaway - T, one-shot - Hermione tames a Dementor.
Aegis by Maira - M, one-shot - Their world is in ruins, and their only protection against creatures wanting to kill them is about to fall. They make a plan to trek across the country to Hogwarts, where others have gathered to make a new home within the castle. There, they will be safe. One problem - before they go, there's a queen to kill. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal Challenge.
Fear & Desire by myladymay - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy wants to change his life. He returns to Hogwarts for Eighth Year and finds himself confronted with both his biggest fear and greatest desire, all wrapped up in a Gryffindor tie.
Innocent Monsters by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn't anticipating:
1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala
2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children.
To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys.
Transformed by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Draco and Charlie have a dragon to catch, and time is running out. Meanwhile, Hermione is missing, adding to Draco's woes.
DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos, August 2021:
Three's a crowd, four's trouble by AnnaRitaLi - M, WIP - p>My sister is right. My life did change that evening. I just don't think Rosalind meant for me to steal her boyfriend, or I don't think I stole him, Draco, not precisely. You cannot steal something that doesn't want to be whisked away. That's my experience, at least, and I've stolen quite a few things over the years. So I can say this with confidence. You can't lose something you never had. But you’ll have to read it in the book, dear. While the Crown doesn’t wish for me to speak out in public, I have been silent for too long. You see, There were three of us in this marriage. And people, the press, have assumed many things over the years about Draco and me. So this book, as you’ll see, it’s my attempt to set the record straight. Yes, there were three of us in this marriage, but there were also much more going on than that. -- This is the story the Crown never wanted to get out. In other words, I bring you the x-rated version of the book ‘Diana - her true story - in her own words’.’ It’s the Dramione as Charles & Diana AU you didn't know you needed.
The Marquess and the Kitchen Girl by Art3misiA - E, 8 chapters - Draco Malfoy is the son of the most powerful Duke in Wiltshire. One day, he will be the ruler of a large duchy. Hermione Granger lives happily with her parents - that is, until tragedy strikes. Two children will become friends, and gradually discover a forbidden love that seems as if it might one day defy the odds. Alas, this is a tale of doomed lovers.
In Her Arms by KrysKrossZee - M, one-shot - Draco's worked his way up through Voldemort's ranks but it would seem that all of his work has been for nothing when Dolohov captures a new prisoner.
The Happiness I Seek by Maira - M, one-shot - To those without a soulmate, the world is devoid of colour. They say that if you are lucky enough to meet your soulmate, everything changes. The world is brighter, food is richer, and you find a love you never knew you needed. Draco Malfoy has never been lucky. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.
darling! by itscometothis - M, one-shot - When Draco and Hermione are invited to help demonstrate a path forward for Wizarding Britain and its reconciliation, neither really feel like they can refuse - Hermione for moral reasons and Draco for practical ones (read: Azkaban sounds bad). But they have very different ideas on how to play up this fake relationship. Written for DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos - Kermit and Ms. Piggy. It's as ridiculous as you expect.
A Thousand Ships by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to reach out and take it.
Quiet My Demons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - “Unhappy, darling?” He murmured, his cigar placed on its resting dish, dashed out - a little puff of smoke rising into the air between them before disappearing. “Yes, completely.”
I Love Draco by crochetaway - G, one-shot - A few slice of life scenes with Hermione, Draco, and Scorpius ala I Love Lucy style!
DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Final Word, September 2021:
Crime & Punishment by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - TRIAL TRANSCRIPT OF DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY IS FORMALLY CHARGED WITH THE FOLLOWING: CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MURDER AIDING AND ABETTING A MURDER USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: IMPERIUS (2 COUNTS) USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: CRUCIATUS (47 COUNTS) PARTICIPATING IN A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION -- I don’t regret hoping. I thought I might, at the beginning, do you remember? But I don’t. I regret nothing about you, my love. Eternally yours, Draco -- A story of hope, punishment, and the nature of justice told in trial transcripts, visits in an interrogation room, and letters.
Boats Against the Current by AlannaTCooper - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is trying to escape his past by running as far away as he can. But the past - and his nightmares - keep pulling him backwards.
By His Side by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione is lonely but there's at least one person who can break through her loneliness.
Trying To Live by IzzieStellar - T, one-shot - After her husband dies, Hermione can’t seem to remember how to live and her friends vow to help her.
In the Dead of Night by AdAsttra - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are some of the last people to leave Hogwarts under the veil of a cold, dark night.
This fest is ongoing.
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rolling ⟿ Hisoka x fem!reader
Includes : praising, smut, watersports, consumption of alcohol, use of molly, swearing.
Word count : 4,8k
A/N, I haven’t really written something like this, I’ve never taken molly but I did sorta look it up, I don’t condone using molly, nor do I condone drinking. This smut is for the sole purpose of a little fun night.
••
"And who might you be?"
••
The event was at it’s prime, everyone chatting, drinking, eating, I hated the idea of coming but disregarded those thoughts the second I got ahold of some alcohol.
"I'm y/n, you?" The dark yet beautifully illuminated ballroom created a sparkle from my red gown, etching out my body to my liking. The tall man who stood two feet away from me devours me with his devilish yellow eyes; his charismatic smirk which quickly lured me in for more.
"Hm, I'm Hisoka, but enough about me. You're so exciting to look at, I must admit." I smile and blush, looking down at the rest of my dress.
"Thank you, what brings you here?" I change the subject, standing in the main area of the ballroom, the bar a reach away, I needed it.
"Ahh, just work business, and you?" While he talks, I observe what he's wearing; a black on black suit, his multicolored hair which was more or less intriguing.
"The same, I'm here with my Co. Owner." I smile, a server comes from Hisoka's right, a plate with champagne, he stands in front of us, I graciously take one and Hisoka does the same, thanking the waiter. His eyes slightly widen as he sips from the glass.
"A lady a charge?" He's tilted against the column, we look at each other intently, I kinda liked his vibe.
"Yep, what can I say!" I giggle, he retorts with a light chuckle, his low eyes captivating me more and more.
While you observed the man in front of you, you weren’t the only one, Hisoka was excited. He undressed you with his eyes so sensually, he could have ravaged you right there. The way your hair paired perfectly with your dress, your makeup was to impress others, you didn’t do this for yourself. You wanted people to look at you, Hisoka picked up on your undertoned confidence and he knew that he liked you. You also had a bite to your personality, he liked the power you held.
‘How have I not met her sooner?’
"Do you plan on going straight back to the hotel room? Or another party?" Hisoka shakes his thoughts out of his head, watching the pretty lady raise an eyebrow in return.
‘Another party? Well.. was I not invited or something?’ I shrug.
"I'd head to another party; if I had known one existed." I roll my eyes, he stands straight and turns around quickly, placing the empty glass on the high table next to us.
"It was more of a word of mouth thing; I'd be happy to take you as my plus one? But the scene might be different as you’re used to..."
"Who did you come with tonight?" I ask, changing the subject from the party for a light minute, wanting to be nosy, what if he had come with a woman.
"Just a few friends, god knows where they are." He jokes, I laugh, my fingers rolling the neck of my glass, swirling and swallowing the last sip of alcohol. The hot feeling in my stomach from the drink making me feel more loose and relaxed, ‘I could go with him to a party, where’s the harm?’
"We should." I nod simply, he smiles and wastes no time taking my empty glass from my hand. Swiftly placing it on a servers tray as the kid walked by. He signals for me to follow him. Leading the way and I follow close behind, my hand gently holding up the fabric of my dress so I don't trip, 'he was so tall', and quiet, who the fuck was this guy I've never even seen him before?
"Is it off base if I say that you strike me as very mysterious?" I toss my hunch out there, he looks back at me when we reach valet.
"I'd like to see myself as more of the withdrawn type." He sticks out his hand, I grab it, it was soft, his fingers long and lanky. He led me a few steps ahead when a car pulls up, opening the passenger side door of a black matte Camero; with red interior. 'Nice pick y/n' I do a little jig of accomplishment and slight excitement before he hops in the sports car.
He pulls the car out of park speedily and drives out of the culdesac.
"What do you do for work, Hisoka?" I ask him, he glanced at me, a hand holding his chin while his elbow sits on the middle console.
"I dip into a little of everything, call me an opportunist." He simply answers. There was a big lie right there, I've been able to pick apart things being true or false since childhood; my tack record never really failing me, he didn't need to know that.
"I own an agency, if you were curious."
But he assumed this. He guessed it when he recalled your name during tonights convo, she owned an agency, more like a school for beginning nen users, she raked in millions a year. A firecracker, determined and strong willed woman she was.
"My, quite fascinating, you must be of some talent, yeah?" He asks, a little of a misogynist thing to ask but I quickly shake it off, Hisoka speeds down the highway and I look out the front window.
"I guess." I hum, I glance at his hands, they kinda made me excited- the size...
Minutes later we arrive at a gated neighborhood, he swings his car through the entrance of the gates and I become excited, finally I could really get fucked up.
"Aren't we a little too overdressed for a house party?" I chuckle, he pulls up the the front of the house.
"This isn't your average party babygirl, no one cares what you'll be wearing." Babygirl? A slight cringe at how loosely he used the word. I furrow my eyebrows, before being able to question him someone is swinging open my door along with the drivers side. It was elegant- he looked... so good.
"Not my average party hu-" my mouth falls open a little before I look at him. I knew these some of these people. It was packed. But Hisoka never stopped shuffling through the crowd, leading me down the few stairs and ignoring any welcomes that came his way.
We reach a basement door, he knocks twice before opening it and he lets me in. There were a bunch of couches, a TV, a bar, kitchen etcetera. Everyone looked like they were rolling, drunk maybe?
No. Not rolling on the floor literally. But rolling on some type of psychedelic, or shitfaced for sure. My heart falls in my throat, baffled.
"I don't get into this kinda thing." I nervously chuckle, stepping away from him, he frowns, lifting his hand to my shoulder, caressing it.
"You will soon." I smirks, grabbing my hand and leading me deeper into the foyer. I look around, it looked fun, I wanted to feel it but I would leave myself open to being taken advantage of.
"Drink?" Standing in front of the bar, he pours vodka into a glass, I smirk. ‘Who was this man?’ I liked him, I ignore my slight anxiousness.
"Mhh, gladly; thank you." I hum, taking it from him, right as I'm about to drink from the glass he stops me, covering the opening of the glass with his palm.
"You'll be very- what's the word? Hot, if you drink that by the way." Referencing to the drink, is that what he did for a living, reeled women in to sex them up on molly and champagne?
"You want to take care of me? Hot and bothered Mr. Morow?" I lean into him, his head slightly dipped down so he can hear me, in all honesty, I already was hot and bothered. His bloodlust licking all over my body and seeping into my pores, he smelled amazing, the tone of his voice got me stirring in my shoes.
I look up at him through my thick eyelashes and he bites down onto his lip in anticipation on what was to come.
"You wanna get me vulnerable?" I reach up and scissor the fold of his black blazer, stroking it slightly, "you wanna take advantage of me Hisoka? Coulda’ just told me what you wanted from the jump." There had to have been something in the air.
While on the other end of things, Hisoka’s breath was quickly sucked out in a bit of a shock. His heart thudding a little faster than usual; god he could tear you up.
“I’m stronger than you think I am Hisoka,” I giggle. I was, I was always on my A game.
“What kind of man would that make me y/n?” He smirks, pressing his cheek against mine and whispering, “if I wanted to take advantage of you, I would’ve torn you to pieces before we even got into my car.” I gulp and pull away from him slowly, mustering up the courage and taking a swig out of the cup and his eyes widen, I stop halfway down the drink and press him to drink the rest.
“Go on, drink it Hisoka, you wanted to get me fucked up.” I chuckle, he pushes the cup and pours his own.
“Drink all of it, you wont regret it.”
••
My head was spinning, the walls dipping in and out, swirling, my third eye was 100% open for sure. I sat on the ‘L’ shaped couch, Hisoka diagonal from me sitting comfortably on the corner, we didn’t really talk. Or maybe we were talking? I really was out of it. I didn’t pay attention to the other party goers, there were around 30 people down here.
While he looked over at the wall, I started deep into his soul. The more I looked at him the more I envisioned him on top of me in some dimly lit room.
“Hmm, y/n, if you keep looking at me like that who knows what I’ll end up doing to you.” My eyes quickly snap up to meet his own.
I was so empty headed I didn’t have the capability of feeling embarrassed.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Hisoka’s dick slighty twitched in his pants. He was already pussywhipped.
He needed you.
He looked at me seductively, eyes low. I bit on my bottom lip; a one night stand wouldn’t hurt. It’s been so long, although you were so intoxicated you had no idea how this would go, nonetheless feeling much more bold.
Hisoka was right, you were hot. Your body throbbing, everything was definitely more sensitive, tingling almost.
Hisoka was restless, he knew that he was going to make you his little plaything.
He couldn’t help it; standing, he taps on your shoulder and ushers you up, grabbing your elbow and slightly dragging you down the darkened hallway, it made you dizzy, your eyes spiraling and colors accentuated and it made you see new weird versions of colors, ‘is this real?’
He opens a door and flicks on the light, your eyes needing to adjust to the weird vibrating walls.
You weren’t able to talk much, everything sounded foreign when it left your lips, like a jumble of noises so you held back talking. He shuts the door quickly and walking back towards you, towering over your body. Your heals slip off your feet when Hisoka is pushing you onto the bed, your legs slightly falling open and you stare at him through your lashes, looking like a whore.
He leans over you, his knees pressed on either side of your own, pinning your wrists back above your head, you bite down onto your tongue. Leaning into you, he dives into your neck, bitting and gnawing at the bit. You breathe out a slight whimper; almost undetectable.
Senses heightened, you felt like you could taste him already. He nibbles and licks down the v line of your dress, he radiated a hot and intense vibe, you were stunned. You were also beyond horny.
Hisoka moves his knee up to your cunt, you gasp when he applies the littlest pressure. He pulls up and looks at you.
“I can feel your heartbeat on my knee.” He states, I blush and look away.
“That’s because I’m horny.” I admit, he smirks and uses one of his hands to tuck hair back.
“Are you now... what can we do about that?” He purrs, mouth pressed against your ear and you shivered. Tugging slightly against his grip, he releases you, your hands land on his chest, trailing down and unbuttoning the single button on his black blazer.
“No Hisoka, what are you going to do about that?” You send him a smug look and push him off you slightly, you felt confident so why not have a little more fun than usual.
“My my, are you insinuating you’re going to use me?”the undertone of sarcasm made you laugh, you push up onto your knees and he falls on his back.
“Mhm, I’m going to fuck you until all your kids are dumped into me.” Lifting up your dress slightly so you could straddle his waist, he stares at you with his tongue being pinched by his teeth.
You roll your hips as you tug apart the strings that kept your dress closed, watching him as you smirked, he picked up quickly what you were doing and bunched up your dress from your legs, slowly taking it off and over your body, throwing it to the side, he sits up; and since his legs still hung off the bad, this was easier for him to sit comfortably and as close to you as possible.
His hands tickle down your sides, ending up at your lower back as he pulls you into his grasp tightly, grinding against his dick in the process. You lean back slightly, pushing the blazer off of him and he shimmies it off, you start unbuttoning this shirt and his hands caress your butt, following your tailbone and gripping.
You push off his shirt and he was breathtaking. His toughly toned chest, hard as a rock. Abs galore, his shoulders broad and his biceps huge.
“Let me know when you’re done staring.” You roll your eyes and let him toss the shirt on the floor.
You were definitely disoriented, but aware enough to consent but you were 100% felt empty headed besides the fact you could smell colors. Neither was Hisoka, he looked at you while he sworn you were moving so much more slow, you weren’t; but he thought you were teasing him.
He moves his hands to explore your body, feeling your soft and warm skin. His hands knead your boobs, like it was something he’s never felt before.
You push yourself off of him, “stand up and get on the bed fully.” You demand, he stands, but before he can plop back down, you unclasp the button on his slacks, hesends you a smug glance, looking down at your small hands compared to his wide waist, he was going to absolutely fucking obliterate you and you had no idea.
“You won’t be in charge for long my love, but I suppose I’ll let you have your fun.” Hisoka whispers, you could’ve fallen apart right there, but you held it together for the sake of the challenge he bestowed upon you.
He tugs his slacks off and you watch him with puppy eyes, the air coming from his nose hitched, you didn’t even bother to look at how hard he was, while he stares down at you, your hand climbs the back of his neck, standing on your toes more to kiss him.
Once you guys find yourself deep in a messy make out session, he taps your ass so he can pick you up. You jump a little and wrap your legs around his hard waist, feeling so high up you didn’t even know if he was really this tall or if it could be being literally high off molly altered your state.
He drops down onto the bed, you gasp when his clothed dick slides across your clothed cunt, it sat against your stomach as you looked down and your eyes widen, looking at how... how fucking big he was.
He scooches back so his head upper body is against the headboard.
“You seem intimidated, are you scared I’ll break you?” The smug look on his face made you laugh.
“Nope.” You were lying right through your fucking teeth. You were terrified; his cock was fucking huge.
You roll circles against his throbbing cock as you both took turns sucking and biting on each others necks, he left strong hickies and bite marks all over your chest.
He was so close to coming which was extremely unlike him, he could last for so long and was pissed that the drugs were bringing him so close to the edge.
“I’m giving you a few more minutes before I’m taking control.” He hums, you allow him to take control prematurely.
“Take control of me now Hisoka.” You purr in his ear, he takes action, swiftly pushing you up and slipping your panties down your thighs and shoving you on your back so your head was on the pillows.
He rips your panties off, you kick them off your ankle and his hand trails up your abused chest, hand gripping your neck. You were seeing fucking stars, literally? You didn’t know you were so high; but you did notice the peak was slowly ending.
You stick your hand down and it falls into the waistband of his boxers, he grabs your wrist and throws it back at you. “Don’t touch me.” He snarled, knowing it sounded rude, this was only because he was so close to nutting that if she even do much as stroked him he’d bust.
He tugs at his boxers and while your swollen lips and sliding his tongue in your mouth, you feel his sly hand rubbing your thigh and opening it, his hand grabs the headboard and the other one is holding your thigh open widely.
“You gonna let me put it in?” You whisper a little sassy, he looks at you with mean- intense eyes.
“My love, you won’t be able to as much move when I’m done with you, keep the attitude to a minimum.” He growls, your leg wrapping around his back and as he pins your thigh down, Hisoka knowing you were about to attempt to slam your legs closed.
He slowly slides into your dripping pussy. All he could think about was being enveloped in your hot walls. Savoring the feeling, he had enough self control to slowly enter into you. Your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth falling open, you watch him slowly fill you up.
You couldn’t even think of words, or noises for that matter, your brain drowning in loud red colors and your eyes were only looking at him, you didn’t even know what the room around you looked like. You were spinning, your body felt like it was trembling and twitching. He gives a tiny thrust to finish filling you up and your legs jolt, attempting to squeeze shut when he hits your cervix. It hurt so bad, you wince and your eyes screw shut.
He on the other hand was captivated by your beautiful body and scent, he couldn’t wait to watch you fall apart and drip cum all over him.
Hisoka pulls back, the pain making things feel a little more real; you look into his eyes, his golden eyes, pupils dilated from the drug- as he swears he can feel every nerve in your twitching cunt. Lowly, he lets out a little chuckle before yanking your leg up further and he picks up the pace, it was so sensual. You never made love but if it was anything like this and you didn’t even know the man? This was a culture shock.
You glance up at his bicep, trailing up towards the headboard, his hand clenches tighter on the headboard, you see him begin to white-knuckle the wood and your eyes widen, glancing at him. Seconds later, he has your face twisting into immense pleasure when the pace picks up, he releases your thigh from his grasp and grabs your throat, leaning in and licking slowly down your jawline, the pounding of his cock into your pussy feeling euphoric, your head spun, lacking oxygen, still high, you can tell he had finished his peak, his thrusts becoming more stable.
The snapping of Hisoka’s hips, you were finally able to get the clogged up moans that begged to come out. Finally, when he heard your moan, he began sweating. His hair becoming a little slick, falling down to his shoulders.
“O-h my god.” You groan, your stomach tightening, you wrap your arm around his neck and his flexed arm hold him up neck to your head.
“You want me to fuck you harder pretty girl?” Hisoka grunts, you let out a whine, fingers intertwining into the hair at his scalp.
“Yes please.” You mewl; this is was his moment to really get down to business, he pushes off the rattling headboard. He swiftly gets off of you, but roughly shoving you by your shoulder onto your hands and knees, he rips your arms from underneath you, causing you to fall harshly into the bed; holding them tight while he reaches off the side of the bed and picks up his tie.
His dick sitting pretty between your ass cheeks- hard as a rock, he ties you up. You bite down on your bottom lip, almost sad you couldn’t rub your hands all over him and touch him.
“God, your pussy is so pretty.” He mumbles, pulling your cheeks opposite from each other so he can get the view of the pretty cunt he was about to tear up. He spits onto your already dripping pussy before quickly picking up where he left off, the difference being he didn’t hesitate to pound hard into your cervix. You let out a screech and attempt to move away but he grounds your hips and gives you strong thrusts, not holding back, Hisoka disregarding your little screams from the pain.
“Does that hurt? You’re so fucking tight; no wonder it hurts so bad.” He grits, angrily fucking me. You become more and more vocal, screaming into the mattress. You pleaded for him to untie you.
“Y-you’re fucking ruthless H-Hisoka,” you moan between thrusts, he chuckles.
Hisoka was so close to coming, it took him more willpower then he’d like to admit. He brings his hand up and slams it down onto your ass. The slap ringing through the room.
You let out a throaty groan, tears soaking the bedsheet from your eyes. You had gotten used to the pain, but he filled every crevice in your pussy, you could feel absolutely everything, from his veins to his cock twitching.
You’re so close to releasing, his name falling out of your mouth incoherently and swears following the screams. Hisoka groaned and held down your arch so he could drill into you. You screamed, for mercy? His dick nor himself cared how bad far he was reaching. He brings his hand down again into a hard slap, you cry out and moan. He loved it, encouraging him to go faster. “My god, princess, you enjoy me hurting you with my cock and my hand? What else can I do to you?” You whine and you feel your juices drip down your thigh, you can came and didn’t even know it. Hisoka pulls out and listens to you moan, groan and cry while your legs shake and smirks.
“Untie me please, Hisoka I need to touch you.” You whine, he rubs your ass.
“Hmm well, I could, but I won’t.” He yanks you up by the hair and hair hand runs down your throat, your throat was dry, makeup running down your flustered face. He could come just looking at your face. He never felt that way before, it had to be the heightened senses from the drugs.
He sits against the headboard once again and without untying you he pulls you by your thighs and slowly pushes you down onto his cock. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, hissing when he grabs you by the hips and shoved himself into you.
He stares at your pretty lace bra and disheveled face as he bounces you up and down, your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, practically going cross eyes he was reaching so deep into you. “Y-you’re so big.” You whine, unable to look into his eyes because you could barely keep them open.
“You’re taking my cock so well.” His chest riding and falling, it wasn’t as fast as he liked but he knew he was filling you up as much as he could, fitting his cock into your pussy as he pleased.
He flexed his back, lifting you still and snapping his hips into you. You practically collapse, hair sticking to your forehead and drool coming from your mouth. You scream and your legs begin to quiver.
“A-Ah! I need to pee” You wail as you feel another orgasm wash over your body, he doesn’t slow down but he remains at the same speed, only making the orgasm stronger, he moves a hand and rubs your bud in a pressurized circular motion. A mixture of piss and cum gushes out of your beaten pussy and you have no control of your body, falling forward onto his shoulder and he catches you.
The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, not stopping you even whilst releasing. He was so thrilled seeing you squirt all over him. Smirking slyly.
“Do you want me to fill you with my seed pretty girl? Have my kids pour out of that tight little pussy?” He grits, moving you back down onto your back and pulling up your numb legs. He needed to come in you now. Drilling into you like no tomorrow. You begged for him to untie you again and again.
He didn’t listen, brutally fucking you. Fucking you so hard your walls clenched so hard he could barely reach as deep. He was so close, Hisoka panting as he begins feeling dizzy, his dick twitched before abruptly stopping, slowly thrusting after a moment, hitched breathing and sweat dripping into your crunched up stomach.
Coincidentally, the slow thrusts made you orgasm again, convulsing and your muscles twitching as you both chased one of the strongest climax you’ve each had. Sniffling and trying to stop the tears, your ass and pussy still twitching as he pulled out of you, he stared sensually at your cunt, watching his own seed spill out of you.
After a few moments, he stops himself from falling in love with your cunt that he just stretched out to fit his desire. He lifted you up by the tied arm and slipped his tie off your wrists, setting you free.
Before you’re able to do anything, he runs his fingers up your slit slowly and carefully, picking up both of your cum, he lifts his hand and grabs your jaw, you instantly open your mouth and stick your tongue out, he sticks his two fingers down your throat and you suck on them, swallowing some of his seed. “Good girl, I didn’t even have to tell you.”
You wipe under your eyes and he smirks.
“We could stay here for the night, or we can go back to my place?” He hums in question. You just drop your back onto the bed. Trying to compose yourself.
“Yeah.” You sigh, panting slightly, he hands you his shirt and you slip it on and button it up.
This was the first time you were now looking around to see where you were, the high slowly reaching an end. You wondered what time it was, hoping to find a clock. Hisoka looks at his phone, ‘1:30am’ it read. He and you had both taken the drug at 9.
He slips on his pants and opens the foreign closet, he didn’t know what to find but when he saw a black t shirt he took it and slipped it on, it fit. He snoops through the closet and tries to find pants for you. He sees a pair of basketball shorts and tosses them towards you, you catch them and try to move as little as possible.
He sees you struggle to put them on and smiles, biting his tongue to prevent him from saying something arrogant. He was so fucking tickled that he fucked your legs into becoming numb and paralyzed.
He steps over at you and crouches down, he grabs the waistband and slips them over your legs. He should’ve warned you his dick would hurt you so bad, but he was so high he didn’t even think to mention it. Hisoka takes your hand and gently leads you to your feet. You feel like your organs had been shifted and you felt empty and cold.
As you and him quietly make your way through the house, people still resides there and the music was as loud as when you first arrived, no one really paid you any mind; which surprised you because your hair was a rats nest and you looked homeless. Barefoot, you and him walk to his car, more like limped.
“I feel like I’ve been split in half.” You mumble as Hisoka helps you into the car, he chuckles. While shutting the door and quickly making his way to the drivers side, he slides in and instantly starts the car.
He begins to drive down the road and out of the gated neighborhood, he puts his hand on your trembling thigh, glancing over at your wrecked face.
“My love, just wait til’ you see what I have waiting for you when we get home.”
#hisoka smut#anime#hisoka#hxh x reader#hxh headcanons#Hisoka stan#lemon#water sports#I’m sorry I’m a Hisoka stan#hisoka x reader
351 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hope you don't mind but what if basement whumper’s partner decided to pay another visit to whumpee? While whumper is out? And whumper comes back mid torture session and stops it?
(I don’t mind at all! Sorry if it’s taken me some time, but I really wanted to do this one right. In fact, I’m going to have to cut this into a part 1/2. This one is the hurt, next one is going to be the comfort.) (Update: I need comfort myself after writing this) Masterlist
CW: Torture, knife cuts, salt water, restraining, held captive, hair pulling, dragging, escape attempt, protective whumper, hurt. It’s a whole lotta hurt.
Whumpee heard the front door open from above as they perked up against the pole. They watched stairs, waiting for the familiar socks that would descend, usually with a hint of clumsiness to them.
Instead, it was the stomp of heavy boots, confident with pride. Whumpee's heart dropped to their stomach when they saw Whumper's partner... A heartless, ruthless being who lacked any sense of humanity.
The larger of two evils.
"There you are! How's our little hostage today? Whumper keeps you well I see." They watched as Whumpee recoiling with fear in their eyes, slowly shaking their head with disbelief.
"Why are y-you here? Where's Whumper?" Whumpee failed to hide the nervous wreck behind their voice. "Not here, little bird. They're far far away doing me a favor. Thought I would drop by and see the goods." They belted a laugh. "Y-you... You shouldn't be h-here. Does Whumper even know?"
They slowly cranking their head back with cold eyes, digging a handful of Whumpee's hair, slamming their head against the pole as they let out a gasp.
"Little birdies been in the basement for so long they think they run the little corner, hmm? Now, when did Whumper let that happen." They hissed. Whumpee tried to pull themselves from the grasp, but every tug pulled at their scalp.
"It's just... Whumper's quite... Possessive." Whumpee whimpered.
"Possessive?" An amused smirk painted their face. "No no, darling. I think the correct word is protective, don't you think? Now I know they went soft and all, but you're nothing but their property." They spat, throwing their head to the side. They followed the wall, their eyes tracing every shiny tool until they fixated on a knife innocently dangling from a nail.
Whumpee wrangled their wrist against the ropes, desperately trying to pop an arm out, or even a thumb. Each breath became more jagged than the next as panic built in their chest.
A cold tip of a blade touched underneath their chin as they instantly flinched up, only to come face to face with its wielder. The knife dug into their throat, just enough to break skin as they winced.
“Wh-why... Why are you doing this? You took me from my own home... What more could you p-possibly take from me?” Their glossy eyes didn't hold back as they stared at their attacker. If they were going to get an answer, it was going to be to their face.
“Simple. It's to keep you in your place, little bargaining chip.” They rose the knife, slicing a line along their cheekbone. Whumpee’s breath hitched as they jolted away, feeling blood trickle down their cheek.
They didn’t get a moment before another cut was struck, right above their collarbone as they fell back against the pole. “Aah-! Stop! Please stop!” Whumpee begged, their shirt collar was torn as a long slash was made from their neck to the end of their shoulder. Whumpee gasped as their head fell forwards, thrashing against the pole from their bound wrists.
“Y-your... You're insane!” Whumpee hissed, gasping for air.
“Am I?” They whispered, holding the blade up to their arm. They hardly pushed it in, letting Whumpee’s own flinching movements cut themselves against it. After each dreaded minute that passed, Whumpee had dozens of cuts painting their body as they sobbed hysterically.
“You know, I was really against Whumper keeping you. But now, I think you’re just fun.” They flicked the blade to let the blood drip off. “Why don’t I make this a little more interesting? Be a dear and wait for me a minute, won’t you?” They smiled almost sweetly before spinning on their heel back up stairs.
Whumpee’s wrists were rubbed raw, but something had loosened. They pulled and pulled with a desperate cry until they ripped their wrist out. They inhaled with unbelievable relief, adrenalin pulsed through their body as they stumbled to their feet. They wiped the blood from their face, as they shakily climbed the steps.
They could hear haunted humming and running water from the other side of the door. Whumpee glanced down at their bleeding hands, forcing themselves to grab the handle despite the cut down each one.
The partner was on the far side in the kitchen, their expression instantly turning pale. “HEY!” They hollered, leaving the sink running as they sprinted after them. Whumpee managed to get the front door open, but it slammed shut before they could make it out. Their arm was grabbed as they were thrown back against the floor, shuffling away in panic.
The partner stood between them and the door almost tauntingly. “Well well! Looks like I was right after all! Little birdie couldn’t sit in their cage like a good little thing.” They spat. Whumpee scrambled back until they were behind the couch.
They advanced closer, but Whumpee would then run behind another piece of furniture further away. “How long are you going to keep this up for?”
“As long as i-it t-takes!” Whumpee barked, ducking a swipe as they tried to each across. “Takes till what? Till Whumper comes and saves you?” They mocked.
“Y-yeah! Yeah I guess I am!” Tears instantly poured down their face. The partner finally grabbed the chair, shoving it on its side with a bang. There was nothing left between them and Whumpee, they gulped as they took a step, their back hitting the wall hopelessly. They cried when their arm was taken and drug to the kitchen, the sink long overflowed as the tiled floor was soaked in water.
They used their foot to pin Whumpee to the ground as they took a box of salt and poured it into the overfilled pot. “Get off of me! Ple-ase! What are you doing!?” They cried, fighting to get out from underneath their boot. Their eyes went wide when they saw the pot hovering over their head, their expression freezing as they shook their head pleadingly.
“No... No no no.. Please don’t.” They quietly begged.
The door slammed open, Whumper about breaking the door from its hinges. Both of them stared guiltily at them wide eyed, their partner still holding the pot, Whumpee still covered an uncountable amount of cuts.
“Don’t you dare, you bastard.” Whumper hissed, their face seething red, they clutched their car keys in hand like a weapon. There was silence for a moment, you could almost see the gears turning in their brain as they weighed the consequences.
“... You’ll thank me later.”
“PARTNER NO-
There was a splash of water, then a shattering scream filling the room. Whumper dropped the keys in shock, watching Whumpee’s body convulse. Their partner smirked with satisfaction as they stepped over them, shaking their hands dry from the salty water.
As if they thought they could slip out the door unharmed, Whumper instantly grabbed their collar as their fist hammered their cheek with such force they slammed into the wall. They even flinched when they opened their eyes, expecting another blow to the head, but instead, they found Whumper crouching over Whumpee trying to sooth them.
“Weak...” They spat out blood before slipping out the door, listening to Whumpee’s screams getting quieter and softer the further they went.
Masterlist
(we’re coming back with a part 2 if you like comfort)
o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading! @grizzlie70 @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @starnight-whump @lonesome--hunter @chartreusephoenix
#tw torture#tw knives#tortured whumpee#knife whump#salt water whump#restrained whumpee#whumpee held captive#whump#whumpee#whumper#Ehhhh#I've never written an actual torture scene#probably won't for a good long while#comfort commence!
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
Zelda Spellman x Fem!Reader x Lilith: Complexities of a Witch
Summary: thewriting-dragon requested “Zelda X Reader X Lilith: Two sassy badass magical milfs and their soft gf who would kill multiple men to see her strong girlfriends just have a moment's peace because they deserve it.”
A/N: Okay nobody fillet me if certain details for s3 are off. I don’t remember them entirely so I’m going off of the little information I remembered and some youtube clips. That aside, I hope you all enjoy!!
Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix @angel7376
Warning(s): Minor Violence
You could swear that your hair was turning grey. With each passing day, the stress piled on, until you were positive that strands of your hair were turning color. It left you stunned and confused. Zelda had almost a hundred years on you and her hair was perfectly normal. And she dealt with more stress everyday than an entire town would.
“Zelda,” You whined, coming out of the bathroom, “I’m greying.”
Looking up from her book, she scoffed at the dramatics. She marked her place with a finger. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, narrowed in concentration.
“You most certainly are not,” She finally declared, “I don’t see a single grey hair on your head.”
“Well, you’re missing it, Zee. All of you are stressing me to the point of madness and my hair is starting to reflect it.”
“Oh, hush. Come here.”
You trudged over to her side of the bed, perching next to her as she looked over your strands closely. Her nails lightly scratched at certain areas of your scalp during her examination. Finally, she leant away from you and shook her head.
“One grey strand, Y/N. You’re raising heaven over a single strand?” Zelda rolled her eyes.
“One strand leads to more! Before you know it, I’ll have a head of them.”
“Oh, Y/N, do be reasonable.”
“I am! How have you not gone grey? Sabrina puts you through so much.”
“Oh that’s easy, I stopped caring ages ago.” Zelda said easily, leaning back against the pillows.
You knew as well as she did that it was a lie. She loved Sabrina to a fault, constantly putting up with her antics. You all did. But it seemed she had no intention of continuing the line of conversation. So you resorted to a sure way to get answers; teasing Zelda until she gave up the truth.
“Are you sure that you’re not dyeing your hair and hiding it from us?” You asked innocently, trying to hide your mischievous grin behind a hand.
Zelda sputtered indignantly, attempting to form words, but failing to do so. You couldn’t hold back your laugh at her reaction. She frowned, recognizing your teasing and obviously not feeling very keen on it.
“What have you done to inspire such a frown?” A warm, curious voice said from behind the two of you.
Not aware of another presence in the room, you nearly fell off of the bed in surprise. You leveled a glare at Lilith as she leant against the door. Her look was far too smug for your liking.
“See?” You said, looking at Zelda, “The antics of this family will turn my hair in a week!”
“Lilith, tell her that she’s being entirely too dramatic about this.” Zelda requested.
“I’ll do no such thing,” Lilith responded, clearly enjoying herself, “Even I would struggle to maintain the natural hair color of this body if I were in her position.”
A long, hard stare was aimed at the demoness. She was completely unfazed by it, having become used to far worse looks in Hell. You just grinned triumphantly at Zelda for a few moments. It was very rare that Lilith took your side in matters like these. Zelda and Lilith tended to be of like mind, especially when it would grate on your nerves.
Rather than respond to any of the teasing, Zelda turned onto her side, facing away from the two of you with a huff. You laughed silently, shaking the bed with the effort to keep it contained.
“Aw, Zee, I’m sorry.” You tried, leaning your head on her shoulder.
“You certainly are not.”
“Oh but I am, aren’t I, Lilith?”
“Yes, very sorry.” She agreed, though without enough emotion to seem sincere.
“Go to bed, both of you.” Zelda demanded, turning over for just a moment to press a kiss to your lips and glare in Lilith’s direction, before turning the lights off with a snap.
Through the darkness, you heard Lilith scoff at the other witch’s behavior. Though part of you expected her to stay awake in protest, the bed soon dipped with her weight. Her arms wrapped around you and you allowed yourself to fall asleep just like that.
----
When you woke up, there was a dreadful absence on both of your sides. Though the blankets were piled on top of you, the chill in the air wormed its way past them. You shook without either of your lovers to keep you warm.
Reaching out blindly, you searched for them with closed eyes. Lilith often took to reading before you woke, perching herself on the bench at the foot of the bed. If stretched fully then you could typically poke her in the back. Nothing met your reach.
You grumbled miserably. If neither witch was in the room, it meant they’d already convened for breakfast. Likely, you had slept longer than intended, and would be sure to hear about it.
Dreading the inevitable teasings and musings of Zelda, you trudged from bed and down the stairs. But no noise followed your descent from the last step. There was no light chatter or laughter from the kitchen. The comforting babbling of the pots and shrieking of the kettle, nowhere to be found.
“Hilda? Zelda, Lilith?” You called, walking into the kitchen.
The area that was so typically warm and busy, was now completely empty. Cold light seeped in through the drawn curtains. A chill went down your spin as you spun around, looking in every part of the room for someone of the Spellman family.
“Sabrina… Ambrose?” You tried helplessly.
No luck.
Timidly, you stepped further into the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the cobwebs clinging to the chandelier; cobwebs you were positive hadn’t been there previously. Tracing over the table led to a collection of dust on the end of your finger. Everything felt hopelessly, terribly confusing.
A sudden crash to your right put you on high alert, throwing your hands up just in time. But it wasn’t a wild animal or enemy looking back at you, frozen in space. It was Ambrose.
“Ambrose!” You exclaimed, dropping your magical hold to throw your arms around him, “I am so glad to see you.”
“As am I, Auntie, but we can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
You reeled away from him, confused at his words. What could be safer than your own home? The one you’d all been part of for so long? Zelda had to be around somewhere, she’d never abandon the mortuary. It wasn’t her style.
“Ambrose, you’re talking nonsense. Now where are Zelda and Lilith? I’m sure we can handle whatever Sabrina has cooked up as a family.”
“You don’t understand,” Ambrose said in a severe whisper, “Nowhere is safe. Not even Hell.”
His tone sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t hard to throw off the balance of this plane, but it was unheard of for the infernal plane to be affected. And if Hell was dangerous then that meant…
“Where is everyone, Ambrose?” You whispered, fearing the answer, “Where is Zelda? Lilith? Your Aunt Hilda would never let the house become so tattered… are they…”
“You really don’t know what’s going on?” He asked.
“If I knew what was going on I wouldn’t be asking you.”
“They all… I mean, well... The pagans brought the reckoning and very few survived.”
“No,” You shook your head, backing away, “They can’t be gone. Not like this.”
“I’m sorry, Auntie.”
He placed a hand on your arm, squeezing gently. You felt like his words had gutted you and left you hollow. Despite the fine layers of dust and cobwebs, the memories of the house still felt alive around you.
The smell of Zelda’s cigarette smoke lingered on everything. You could practically see her there, newspaper in hand, smoke billowing from behind it. Lilith’s voice rang in your ears, heckling Zelda about something miniscule. It was always like that. Warm, teasing, and comfortable. You would hide a laugh, but Zelda knew you too well.
Your family lingered in every corner.
Another squeeze on your arm brought you back to the present, looking directly at Ambrose. His eyes were full of the sadness that you felt. But his held more reserve, more… acceptance. This was new to you, though it wasn’t to him.
You refused to let yourself cry. Neither Zelda or Lilith would have wanted it, they cared for action. In your heart you knew that all you could do was work with the tools you had. Magic, heart, and Ambrose.
“Alright, now fill me in on these Pagans.” You said.
And fill you in he did. Though nothing could explain how the time had moved without you, how you ended up in the middle without even knowing it. Fortunately, just as the two of you hit a dead end, Sabrina appeared out of nowhere.
The details were fuzzy and you were running on a lot of hope, but you had faith in Sabrina. If not, at least she had her misplaced confidence. You’d go out fighting.
Sabrina was to shift things around in time, to bring back your loved ones. You stood by Zelda’s skeleton in the Mortuary’s basement, hoping that any second she’d become real, as Sabrina united the past, present, and future once more.
You felt the change, but nothing happened next to you. The hope in your heart was slowly waning. It was hard to hold back the emotions, but it seemed not to matter at all, as a rustling next to you became apparent.
Sitting up on the table was Zelda, looking confused and extremely annoyed. Ambrose explained that she’d been shot at the front door. You wanted to make the person pay, but right now you were entirely too happy to see Zelda to care.
“Zelda,” You breathed out, making her look to you, before wrapping your arms around her, “You’re okay.”
“Of course I am. I couldn’t leave you to deal with Sabrina alone, now could I?” She asked.
Her voice was hauty, but you knew she was joking by the sweet tone in her voice. The gentleness you heard only in special moments.
“Speaking of Sabrina, we’re meeting her near the Cain pit. You missed a lot while you were… sleeping.”
You could see that she detested waiting for any answers, but grudgingly let you pull her out to the Cain pit, where a large group of witches were waiting. It was then that she realized why she hadn’t been buried in it. Hilda was still laying in it and had been for far too long.
Her grip tightened on your hand and you squeezed back. You’d spent the last day mourning your entire family, but Hilda had been with Zelda since they were children. The pain there was likely unimaginable.
But you all joined hands, amplifying Zelda’s wishes. Her screams to the sky, calling on Hecate. The pain in her voice rang through you like a shot. If you weren’t present, forming a circle with your sister witches, you could’ve sworn you had been shot. The pain certainly felt similar.
Waiting with bated breath, Zelda called out after her chanting. One hand placed on the dirt of the Cain pit.
“Hildy?” She said brokenly.
Then, to everyone’s relief, a hand broke through the dirt. Zelda grabbed it eagerly. You could feel the tension leave everyone’s body. It made you especially grateful to release their hands.
You watched joyfully as Hilda clawed her way out of the dirt, crouching to help her. The dirt caked under your nails didn’t bother you like it normally would. It was a small price to pay.
After that, the plan was laid out. By Sabrina, no less. All of the witches were in agreement on how the Pagans would be dealt with. With swift, painful justice. It would be far too dangerous to let them live any longer. They would just work their way back into this same situation. The plan would take place as they sacrificed the virgin of their choosing to the Green Man.
There was enough time for everyone to disband and prepare, or rest, in your case. But you couldn’t bear to rest now. You had your entire family back, minus one key person. Lilith. Little was known about what had happened in Hell, or maybe Ambrose wouldn’t tell you much.
You just knew that your heart was aching, longing for the other woman you so deeply loved. A fire, long put out, was burning in your gut. It threatened to overwhelm you. Instead, you vowed to save it for the Pagans.
You would get your life back, no matter what it took.
----
The plan had worked perfectly. Sabrina had gone disguised as Robin, Pesta disguised as Ms. Wardwell. Now the Pagans were fleeing. But the big three, the so called ‘Gods’, were frantically packing their things.
Hilda went after Circe, Harvey and Roz went after the gorgon, and that left Pan to you. While the rest of your coven chased the younger Pagans, you elected to confront Pan head-on. Alone. While he loaded his truck, out in the open, you walked up. You did your best to keep your anger at bay when he set his eyes on you.
“What can I do for you, witch?” He snarled.
“You’ve taken something very important from me. I want it back.” You said casually.
The laugh that left his mouth was cold, empty of any humor whatsoever. You wanted to scream, to rip him limb from limb over what he’d done to your family. Your coven. The pain all of them had endured because of them.
“Not likely. I don’t offer kindness to the whores of Satan.”
“You don’t offer kindness to anyone, false God.” You hissed.
His hackles raised then, offended beyond what words could say. Stepping away from his vehicle, he sneered at you, disdain clear in his eyes. Stretching his arms out to either side revealed his true nature beneath the illusion. The true Pan.
“Your Satan is the false God, but I am real, for I am the great God Pan. And my gaze is madness incarnate…” He proclaimed in a haughty tone.
Your clapping stunned him. It was slow and deliberate, fake and insulting. You held no fear as you walked right up to him and stared directly into his eyes.
“I’ve consumed madness before,” You said, a twisted smile spreading on your lips as he stepped back, “And I kept returning for more.”
With a snap of your fingers, the shimmer illusion around him dropped. The one barrier between you and his true form. Your eyes never dropped from his. He attempted to step away from you, but you wouldn’t have it. Then you swung your arm viciously.
“This is for Zelda,” You whispered after burying a blade in his chest, before pulling it out and burying it in his neck, “And that is for Lilith.”
He crumpled to the ground in front of you. As you stood over him, you stared at the wounds you made. Part of you wished that you’d taken more time to make him suffer. But what’s done is done, you can't turn back time.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Turning, your eyes landed on Lilith and Zelda. It was Lilith who’d spoken, leaning against a tree, her smirk visible even from where you were standing. Your heart jumped in your chest at seeing her alive and well.
“You’re… You’re back.” You said happily, tears in your eyes.
“Of course I am. Now, are you going to give me a proper welcome or not?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
You wasted no time in moving to her and throwing yourself into her arms. At first, you did your best to be mindful of where your hands were. Pan’s blood was all over them and you didn’t want to stain her dress, but she didn’t seem to mind as she took your hands into her’s.
She pulled you into a searing kiss. All your thoughts of revenge faded into nothingness as your lips met hers. Personally, you’d never felt Hellfire, but you would bet that it had nothing on her kiss.
Zelda scoffed from beside the two of you. Without looking at her, you knew without a doubt that her eyes were rolling. It was her trademark at this point.
With no small amount of effort, you pulled away from Lilith’s kiss, extending a hand to Zelda. Letting her annoyance wane for a moment, she took it and kissed you just as aggressively as Lilith had. Though where Zelda had rolled her eyes, Lilith was now watching with dark eyes.
It would have been easy to let the touches descend into something sinfully fun, but that wasn’t what you felt. You were so relieved to have your lovers back safe. Overwhelmingly, you felt nothing but your intense love in this moment.
“Let’s go home.” You whispered after pulling away, happily dragging both witches back to your safe haven.
----
“Look at this,” You urged Zelda over to your side, pointing to your hair, “Right here.”
“You’re calmer about this one, I see.” She said.
“I think I… appreciate them now, more than I hate them.”
“Is that so?”
“I wouldn’t have them if I didn’t care. So I consider it good that I care so much about my family, even if it gives me grey hair.” You admitted, avoiding her eyes as your cheeks burned red.
Zelda was quiet for a few moments and you wondered if you left her speechless for once. But rather than say anything, she placed a sweet kiss upon your lips. Her thumb rubbed over your cheekbone affectionately.
“Having so much love is a remarkable gift.” Zelda murmured, punctuating the statement with another kiss.
You leaned into the rare moment of open, sappy affection. It was nice to spend time like this, reveling in the love of your family. To know how loved you were.
“I walked into a sap fest, I see,” Lilith’s voice came from the doorway, “Hard to believe I’m looking at the same witch who slaughtered a God two days ago.”
She was nursing a glass in her hand, taking a sip as her humorous eyes glanced over the rim. You gave a small laugh. Though she'll tease you endlessly about your ways, she did envy how open you could be with all of it. Love, care, honesty. It’d been completely foreign to her for so long.
“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m just complex like that.”
#zelda spellman#lilith#madam satan#zelda x lilith x reader#madamspellman x reader#caos#caos imagine#chilling adventures of sabrina#chilling adventures of sabrina imagine#caos x reader#wlw#wlw imagine#mar2021#multimilfswritings
258 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Starscream muttered, glaring from where he was laying in bed, wings tucked to one side.
"Where else am I supposed to go?" Bumblebee asked. He wasn't looking at Starscream, just standing on the other side of the room, staring out one of the absurdly massive windows at the city below.
Bumblebee sighed. It was late. Really late. Slug was probably getting dragged out of Maccadam's right about now, probably by a cranky Ironhide and the other dinobots. Wheeljack would still be up, somewhere, if not at the bar then tucked away in a workshop or other. Blurr was probably still working. Bee absently wondered what time it was on Earth, and if Optimus was okay, and tried to guess where the Lost Light might be right now.
He missed them.
Recently he'd taken to spending his nights wandering around the massive Iacon tower where Starscream lived. It was always mostly empty in the late hours. He'd mentally mapped almost all of it. Down to the basement to watch whatever the hell Starscream had his mnemosurgeon up to, thinking up ways to chastise him for it in the morning. Around the public spaces, tracing the patterns of the incredible stained glass windows and the tiling of the floors. Up and down dozens of flights of winding stairs that probably would've killed him had he still had a physical body. He still felt an ache in his bad knee, some nights. Through the offices of the delegates, often catching miss Windblade working late, muttering to herself, or occasionally talking to Chromia.
But he knew the tower too well. It was beginning to just remind him of how fucking alone he was. He'd long since overcome any nerves or feelings of impoliteness about eavesdropping, but it was still painful to walk in and out of rooms without so much of an acknowledgement that he'd been there at all. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes in the late late nights in big empty towers where he could scream and yell and stomp as much as he wanted and nobody would so much as blink, a part of Bumblebee began to think that maybe Starscream is right.
Does it even matter? The more sleepless nights spent wandering empty buildings as a pathetic excuse for a poltergeist made Bee start to think that if everyone else was convinced he was a hallucination, maybe he was.
"Where else am I supposed to go?"
Starscream didn't respond at first, leaving Bee to his thoughts. Or maybe he was having thoughts of his own. Equally broody ones, probably. Bumblebee wanted to not care what Starscream was thinking. But he cared.
"You could at least sit down."
///
Days bled into weeks into months, and their interactions became more comfortable, despite everything. There was less denial on Starscream's part, that certainly helped. Being told you're not real twenty-seven times a day by the only person who can see you isn't exactly good for ones mental state, and Bee was greatful for the change.
The nights were still hard.
As far as Bee could tell, he didn't need to sleep. But, even when the stubborn bastard said otherwise, Starscream did. Which meant there were usually at least a few hours Bee had to pass alone.
Most nights does not mean every night, though. Starscream was still an insomniac.
And at some point, Bee had moved from sitting by the window and brooding to dragging the chair closer to Star's bed, encouraged by one too many passionate late-night conversations about some plan or other that they'd gotten way too into.
Being closer to Starscream meant more noticing the tossing and turning, the restless flicker of optics and quiet uncomfortable muttering that filled his nights before Starscream would eventually give up on the whole "sleep" thing, shoving his face into a pillow and letting out a string of swears.
"Are you okay?" Bee asked, one such night.
"What do you care?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Tch. Hardly."
"If you're worried about keeping a secret, remember I physically can't talk to anyone else. If you're worried about embarrasing yourself, remember I'm literally dead. No matter what you are actively doing better than I am in terms of survival."
"And yet, that doesn't stop you from being one judgy son of a bitch."
"Eh, it's an autobot thing. Judgy is what we do, isn't it?"
"Agreed," Starscream smirked, despite how exhausted he seemed, and something in Bee's chest gave a slight lurch at the sight.
"Seriously, whats bothering you?"
///
There came a point where "comfortable" became "casual", which became borderline intimate at times, which was astounding. Despite being stubborn and cagey and completely avoidant about 90% of his real issues, Starscream had managed to be genuine for long enough to manage good conversations.
Bee felt much more certain with that. Starscream was connecting with him, in his way. Which meant that Bee couldn't be that fake, or that annoying. He was probably real. Which was confidence-boosting. He didn't dread alone time nearly as much, knowing that he was making an impact on at least one person during the day made the nights a bit easier. Still, Starscream didn't sleep much.
"I don't get it..." He was drunk, and muttering, more talking at Bumblebee than to him, tired and barely coherent and definetly obsessing. Starscream could barely keep his eyes open. He was laying in his bed, which was pressed into a corner of the room, facing the nearby wall.
The nearby wall, which happened to have a Bee blocking the view. He had sat himself in Starscream's bed, in one corner, leaning up against the walls, cane laying next to him, repeating bits of information back to Star and correcting him on this or that detail, rebuttling his more outrageous claims with bored No, you won't's and Really, Starscream?'s.
"You're driving headfirst into a cliffside and then wondering why you aren't getting anywhere," Bee said, interrupting Starscream's latest rambling.
"Well, if you're so smart, what would you suggest I do?"
"Go to bed, tackle it again in the morning when you have the common sense to climb." Bee smiled a little. He sounded almost like Prime. Or maybe more like Wheeljack? Didn't matter. It was solid advice.
"Or fly. I'm a jet."
"Sure, or fly, whatever. Go the fuck to sleep. You need it."
"I don't need you."
"Didn't say you did." Bee rolled his eyes.
"I don't need you to tell me what to do."
"Somebody has to at least try to make sure Cybertron's great and powerful leader isn't falling asleep at his desk tommorow."
"I've earned the right to nap wherever I damn well please."
"Not during a trial. Or a council meeting. Or-"
"We have a council meeting tommorow?"
"Yeah, you do, it's in your schedule. It's early."
"Fuck," he rubbed at his eyes. "I should've thought about that before I went and drank half a bottle of high-grade."
"I tried to warn you." Bee didn't see the point in mentioning that it was considerably more than half a bottle. He'd figure it out in the morning.
"...Thanks." It was quiet, and a little ashamed, and shockingly sincire.
"Um. You're welcome? I do my best."
Starscream stared at him for a moment, expression focused but unreadable. Then he rolled over, shifting his wings, snuggling in to make himself more comfortable, still muttering to himself even as he drifted off.
Bee sighed, letting himself slide down until he was laying on the bed. He could feel it under him, sort of. It was firm, but not much else. He didn't feel the smoothness of the silky fabric he knew Starscream spent way too much money on, nor the warmth that should be eminating from the sleeping seekers frame. He did, however, feel the steady thrum of Starscream's spark. It reverberated in the hollow of Bee's own chest, where his own sparkbeat was barely a faint flicker.
He wondered if Starscream felt that in the same way. A small, persistent tug at the edge of his spark, even when they weren't near each other. If he did, he'd probably call it guilt.
Bee sighed and closed his eyes, just focusing on the spark's pulse, the soft push and pull. He might not be able to actually sleep, but he could at least pretend for a bit.
///
Bee groaned and pulled himself out of bed, finally giving up as he left his apartment and marched down the night streets, following the tugging weight at the edge of his spark until he was face to face with a door into a familiar apartment in a familiar building and he was suddenly hit with a wave of what the fuck am I doing?
He spent a minute arguing with himself over whether or not he ought to actually knock on the door, but it turned out to be useless, because it slid open without him doing much of anything at all. In the doorway stood a weary Starscream looking surprised, but also not, to see the yellow minibot in front of him.
"Bee?"
"Uh, hi."
"What are you doing here?"
"Uh, well," Bee suddenly felt very foolish. "I, uh, can't sleep."
"And... you came here?"
"Yeah. I guess."
Starscream just stared at him for a minute before turning away with a huff, retreating into the apartment, the door left open behind him. It seemed as good an invitation as he was going to get, so Bee followed him in.
He wandered through the apartment, following Starscream back to the bedroom, already feeling some of his nerves beginning to settle just by being here. It wasn't the same apartment Starscream had had when he was ruling the planet, but it was similar enough. Same decor, same layout. A bit smaller, but still, the whole place was overwhelmingly Starscream. He spilled out of the furniture, painted the walls and filled every nook and cranny with himself. His presence was, as always, undeniable and overwhelming. To Bumblebee, it just felt safe.
Neither of them really talked, and in fact barely even spared a glance towards the other as they climbed into bed, both for embarrasment's sake and a lingering fear that adressing what was happening would break it.
They continued not acknowledging it until Starscream, muttering something about his wings, rolled over to face Bee's back. Bee could feel Starscream's sparkbeat flittering anxiously, and was having to make a concious effort to keep his own close to steady as he moved backwards to press right against Starscream's chest.
There was a moment where Starscream froze, unsure of exactly what to do, but eventually he decided on tenatively wrapping an arm around Bumblebee's waist, growing more confident when Bee melted into it, relishing the simple touch.
Bumblebee slept better that night, pulled against Starscream's chest, knowing he was held and safe and real, then he had in weeks.
///
Bumblebee woke up first the next morning, Starscream's face nuzzled into the space between his shoulders, the jets breathing even and warm against Bee's plating.
He didn't make any move to get up, or even so much as twitch. He wanted to squeeze every second he could out of it, before Starscream woke up and shoved him away again and whatever this was inevitably ended.
But that didn't happen. Eventually, Starscream stirred, coming online with a jolt, like the act of waking had snuck up and startled him. He pulled away from Bee, looking around the room, letting his processor catch up with who and where he was. After a moment he soothed, letting out a shaky breath and pressing his face against Bee's cheek, wrapping his arms back around the minibot's waist.
"You're still here?" Star muttered, voice still thick with sleep.
"Where else would I go?" Bumblebee said. He didn't say it outright, but he used every fiber of his being to push I just want to be wherever you are out at Starscream and hope he got the message, because Bee didn't think he could say it out loud.
Apparently it was good enough, because Starscream's arms around him squeezed him tighter and he gently, so softly that it nearly seemed as if he was scared, pressed a kiss to Bee's neck.
"Thanks," he said. A part of Bee wanted to say for what? and another wanted to say you don't have to thank me and another wanted to say i love you, but he didn't say any of those things. Instead, he turned himself over, trying not to pull away from Starscream any more than he absolutely had to, and he kissed him properly. It was soft, and inexperienced, and lazy, and it was so good that Bee felt like sobbing.
He blinked away tears and let his head fall to lean against Starscream's chest, hands tracing their way up and down the plating of Starscream's arms softly. He kissed the golden glass of Star's chest, listening to the thrum of the spark behind it, the way it pulsed in time with his own, the tugging feeling sated for now but the presence of Star's spark alongisde his own as strong as ever.
#red.doc#sorry this is completely unprompted i just dont wanna deal with uploading it to the thingy rn#the website.#starbee
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sickly sweet - Yandere Chihiro Fujisaki x Female Darling
Hiya guys! It has been awhile since I wrote something but I finally felt inspired again because of the song Saccharine by Jazmin Bean! So this fic is loosely based off of their song and I just got inspired to write about Yandere Chihiro baby, so I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Obsession, mentions of blackmail, online stalking, masturbation, kidnapping
Words: 1681
Chihiro knew what he was feeling wasn't exactly okay, oh he was perfectly aware of it. These feelings truly scared him to his very core, never before had he ever felt this way about anybody else. All he wanted was to understand these emotions so they wouldn't scare him so much. However it didn't matter what he did because these intrusive thoughts always came back and didn't leave him alone. These thoughts were dark and just so fucked.
When he first met her then it wasn't this way. He could still think properly and keep a clear mind but now it was absolutely impossible. He was unable to think about anything but her. Something about her was just driving him insane and it scared him so badly. She was so sweet and kind towards him, sure his other classmates were as well. At least nowadays they were. He still dealt with the trauma of being bullied harshly for being 'way too girly' for the other kids. But now he was better. He was finally learning to be more confident in himself but even then, understandably he dealt with a whole lot emotionally as well.
Yet (Y/N) was always there for him and she comforted him and always smiled at him. She was so sweet and caring towards him. He guessed it was no surprise that he ended up getting a crush on her. If only it would have stayed as an innocent crush like in those cartoons he had watched. Everything would be so easy then but his feelings just ended up being so dark.
Chihiro thought about her on a daily basis. He imagined how it would feel to be next to her, holding her hand, cuddling with her and kissing her. Sure, these thoughts were normal for anyone with a crush but his feelings didn't stay like this. Whenever he saw her talk to somebody else then he felt a heavy feeling in his chest that scratched into his soul. He did not want her to be near those other people who could never appreciate her as much as he did. He loved her so much and he really would do anything for her. These dark thoughts terrified him but he was unable to stop it and at this point he knew that he wouldn't be able too.
All of her words sounded like poetry to his ears. He felt so calm when he heard her voice and he wanted her to stay next to him, all the time, forever and ever. They were meant to be together! She had to understand it as well, right? He would never ever hurt her. The mere thought of that made him want to scream and tear out his hair. His love for her would cross any obstacle forced in his way.
(Y/N) was always so supportive and sweet towards everyone which in itself was very kind and selfless of her. He truly did love her for the way she was but he knew how cruel the world was. Everyone wanted to take advantage of her, all of these monsters would ruin her. Maybe these thoughts were irrational, perhaps they really were, but that didn't stop him from having them. If there was anyone who could keep her safe in this world then it was him and only him, that much he was sure of.
Chihiro had never been a violent person but the deeper his feelings went for her, then the more violent his thoughts cut. He just wanted to dispose of those people that were near his beloved and who would only end up hurting her. His sweet angel was far too innocent and naive to understand it herself, so he would do everything for her. He could read her mind so clearly, all she wanted was to be loved and cared for. He was more than happy to fulfill those dreams of hers. They were a perfect match made in heaven and his sweetheart knew it as well.
There was something else he started to do that he really never did before. He started to touch himself, very often, to the thought of her. He really couldn't control himself and often even had to leave class and go to the bathroom so he could get rid of his problem. He had many pictures downloaded onto his phone, all pictures that he could find from her social media but then he also started to take pictures of her without her knowing anything about it.
Sometimes she also visited his home and once she left behind her scarf and he knew he should give it back but it smelled just like her. When he held the material in his arms and smelled it then he could feel himself instantly get hard. Oh she was driving him insane but this feeling was so addicting. So he started taking whatever little items of hers that he could and kept it for his own personal shrine. She was an angel who was here to bless him with her love. (Y/N) was far too innocent to understand what the filth around her were thinking about her.
There were times when he heard some other boys talking about her in such a lewd way that it made him want to snap their necks. These types of disgusting wastes of oxygen did not deserve to live anyways. That is something he was more than sure of. He would protect her and though he didn't know if he would kill anyone then he could still use his skills to blackmail them and ruin their lives or find some other way to make them regret the day they fucked with his beloved. Which is exactly what he did as well. He made sure these bastards would stay away from her and not even look at her direction without the fear of angering him. Wasn't this romantic? He was protecting her honor and he would make sure nobody would ever hurt her!
However it still didn't feel like he was doing enough and he was still angry and protective of her. He thought she would be happy when these fake friends and weirdos would leave her alone and not talk to her anymore but she just seemed so sad. She seemed to appreciate him being there for her but at the same time she still wanted to stay away from her and he hated it. He tried so hard not to have to go to this last resort but he would have too now.
So when he invited her over to his place to watch some movies then she had thankfully agreed, made it easier for him and her as well. He hugged her tightly when she arrived and she returned the warm embrace. This already felt like heaven for him but it was gonna get even better than that. She would understand it eventually as well. The two of them watched some movies and ate snacks until he offered to bring something for them to drink. He left the room and went to the kitchen, sneakily letting some pills dissolve in her drink until he returned with two cups in his hands. He sat close to his angel and made sure to not look too excited while he watched her finish her drink and slowly have the pills take effect. She was so innocent that she didn't realise a thing until she had passed out next to him.
Chihiro gently kissed her forehead before dragging her to his basement. He had cleaned it up and made it all nice and cosy for her. There was a small bed there as well. He made sure to carefully tie her hands to the bedposts. Even the restraints showed how caring he was! These were silk ropes so she would not get any ropeburns but still not be able to break free. He patiently waited for her to wake up, all the while playing with her hair as he was cuddled next to her. Oh she was such a sleeping beauty, his sleeping beauty. He barely even noticed when she started to wake up. He adjusted himself into a sitting position and smiled down on her sweetly.
The effect of the drug was still starting to wear off, so it took her a few moments until she realised that she couldn't move her arms and that he was staring straight at her. She was very visibly scared and while it did upset him a little, then he knew she would get over it in no time at all. “Chihiro?” (Y/N) whimpered quietly, oh his poor darling was so scared that she didn't even know what to say. She was just so perfect “Don't worry sweetie! Everything is okay! You are safe with me! I know this might seem scary now but you'll see in no time at all that you love me as much as I love you!” He was so happy that he could finally confess his love to her. This was the happiest day of his entire life!
Chihiro watched her tremble but he only hugged her close and wiped away the tears that came to the corners of her eyes. He could see her lips move but he didn't hear anything, after all he was just so happy right now. He leaned in closer to her beautiful face and connected their lips. She let out an adorable squeak as her trembling intensified. Oh his angel was just so perfect. He enjoyed the kiss and slowly pulled away. His cheeks were completely red. “So sweet...I love you so much, my angel. I know you love me too and we will be so happy together!” Before she could open her pretty lips he had already connected their lips in another kiss as his hands explored her body. Chihiro knew that he was in heaven now that she was with him and she was here to stay.
Their eternity together was gonna be nothing but sweet bliss.
#yandere#yandere male#chihiro fujisaki#yandere chihiro#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yandere x you#male yandere#yandere danganronpa#danganronpa#Yandere love#yandere boy#obsession
160 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
