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musings-of-a-rose · 2 years

Text

I Hate That I Like You - Part 1

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word Count: 4700+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only! NSFW

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: We’ve only got a teaser trailer, a promo pic, and a behind the scenes in character video, but I couldn’t resist writing this! So please note this came out before the movie and so I’m making wild assumptions. Also this will be a 2 part series because apparently I don’t know how to do short stories so much.

I’m also posting this as a thank you for 300 followers! I am BEYOND humbled and can’t believe 300 of you have chosen to hit the follow button. It truly means the world to me!

Shoutout to @astoryisaloveaffair and @icanbeyourjedi for bouncing ideas with me!

**Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

“This will look good on my resume, this will look good on my resume..” you chant to yourself while also cursing at the fact you agreed to sign on to this movie.

A movie being filmed inside a damn bubble, thanks to world situations being what they are.

“We would like to make you an offer to work on Cliff Beasts 6.” Your manager reads off to you, indicating the salary. “Wow, they upped the hourly rate. They must be desperate.”

“Hey!” you smiled at your manager who smiled back. You two had been friends since childhood and worked together well. You had been working as a hair stylist in Hollywood for a while now, quickly working your way through various sets and earning yourself a reputation in the field for being creative, efficient, and quick - plus the talent loved you.

“There’s a catch.”

You sigh. “Of course. What is it?”

“With all the new protocols, you’ll have to quarantine for 14 days before you can work.”

“That’s fine by me. I have some reading to catch up on.”

“AND you’ll be secluded, in a bubble of sorts, when on set.”

You pause. “What does that mean?”

“It means, once you’re through quarantine, there’ll be no leaving the set for anything until the shoot is over.”

“So I’ll be stuck there with everyone?”

“Yup. And there’s more.”

“What else could they possibly want?”

“You’re going to be fully assigned to an actor. That means all their hair, on set, off set, during shooting, etc.”

“So sort of like a key hairstylist specifically for an actor.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok that’s not terrible. Who do they want me for?”

She hesitates a moment, looking back down at her list. “Dieter Bravo.”

You think for a moment, pinching your thumb and forefinger to the bridge of your nose.. “How much does it pay again?”

—

Quarantine wasn’t too bad. 14 days alone in a hotel room with food being delivered to you. You managed to get through a couple books and binge watch a few shows and movies during this time while coming up with some alternate hair ideas to present to the key hairstylist that’s leading everyone, just in case something ends up not working. Or the actor loses his shit.

You put the last few things in place in your trailer where you’re going to be doing Dieter’s hair (his makeup team will also share with you). Begrudgingly you admit to yourself that you were slightly curious to see if the rumors about Dieter were true, that he was often late, paid little to no attention to his staff (unless they were hot or fawning over him of course), and was, generally, a cocky, entitled, asshole. You had no high hopes but purely because you knew you’d be spending a few months working directly with him, you hoped the rumors were at least a little harsh.

They weren’t.

The first day he was to show up for a trial run of hair and makeup, he was over 2 hours late. He flung open the door to the trailer, not lifting his eyes from the phone in his hand, and shuffle strutted over to the chair, sitting down and crossing his legs. He said nothing to you nor either of the other makeup girls who were there, confirming the truth to the rumors. The three of you glanced at each other before getting up to work, making sure your masks were secure, but apparently weren’t moving fast enough because Dieter’s hand shot in your direction and he snapped a few times, the universal signal for “hurry the fuck up”.

This guy here.

The three of you made it work, now having to move quicker because of his tardiness, occasionally tripping over each other. You were supposed to have your time after they were done to avoid situations like this, but you managed still. Once you were all finished, Dieter annoyingly drug his eyes away from his phone to glance in the mirror, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up and shuffled out, not even waving bye.

“What an asshole,” one of the makeup girls said. Laughing, you all swapped insults as you cleaned up and gathered your on site supplies, rushing out the door to make it to the rehearsal.

—----

Things did not improve much from there.

Dieter arrived more or less on time after that, no doubt after being reprimanded by someone way above your pay grade. You’re not sure if this was actually more annoying because it meant having to spend more time in his presence, which only agitated you more. He would either stare at his phone, completely absorbed in his social media, laughing, scoffing, or making passing comments to himself, outloud. Or he would nap, head lolling to the side which made your job, and that of the makeup girls, much more difficult. Waking him wasn’t an option - he was either a deep sleeper or really good at ignoring you.

The pay was great, sure, but the one thing you were clinging to is how good this will look on your resume. Working on one of 2 movies that were actually shooting during these times will definitely boost your credibility. You were already doing fairly well with your reputation, but this would boost you up to the next level. You may be able to book key hair stylist gigs after this one.

Bubble restrictions still required you to wear masks or face shields, sometimes both, nearly always, especially around the actors and the crew deemed “most important” (directors, producer, etc). While you stood around waiting to adjust Dieter’s hair on set, you wondered what everyone looked like without a mask. Then you’d be brought back to reality when you heard that awful voice Dieter spoke in while in character. It was so ridiculous and over the top, which makes sense for the movie, you supposed.

—----

Several weeks after arriving on set, you got restless in your room. It was late and there wasn’t a night shoot so you decided to risk a walk down to the kitchen to get something to eat and to get a change of scenery. You put on your mask and quietly walked down to the kitchen, which wasn’t far from where everyone was staying.

It was completely empty.

Grateful for the lack of people, you quickly made yourself a sandwich and grabbed a drink, heading back out front of the kitchen and sitting at one of the tables crammed against a wall. There were a few tables scattered around, at least 6ft from anything of course. Setting your plate down, you shift the chair to face out at the area in front of you and sit, taking off your mask and setting it on a napkin on the table.

A few minutes later, one of the new food assistants comes crashing into view, storming up to the kitchen muttering to herself. She emerges a few minutes later, seemingly with the same sandwich on her plate as she stomps back off across the courtyard. She repeats this process once more, even more agitated than before. When she comes back a third time, you set the last bit of your sandwich down and watch her as she comes out of the kitchen.

“...can’t make a sandwich - MAKE YOUR OWN DAMN SANDWICH THEN, DIETER!” She’s speaking in loud mumbles to herself, not even realizing you’re there. She stomps off in the opposite direction, and you smirk to yourself. Good for her.

About 10 minutes later, you look up from the book you had brought to see Dieter Bravo himself walking towards the kitchen. He looks annoyed at being put out, the audacity of him having to walk to the kitchen himself to find the girl to demand his sandwich. He flings the door open, green corduroy robe flowing behind him and disappears inside, coming out a few seconds later after seeing she wasn’t there. He stops just outside the kitchen, looking around the courtyard.

Sighing, you say “She left.”

Dieter jumps, turning in your direction, a look of surprise on his face as he only just realized you were there.

“She left? Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. Mumbled something about “make your own sandwich””. Why the hell is he wearing sunglasses inside? At night?

Dieter glances around again, his hands on his hips. “Well that’s great.”

You hoped he would leave then, let you sit here in peace and finish your sandwich and read, but you weren’t that lucky. His eyes land back on you and he shifts his sunglasses down his nose a bit, visibly checking you out over the tops of his frames. You roll your eyes and look back down at your book, hoping he would get the hint.

He didn’t.

Dieter struts over to you, taking off his sunglasses and hooking them to the collar of his shirt. He pulls out the chair across from you and sits down, leaning to one side as he cocks his head, scanning you up and down.

Ugh.

“You know, I’m one of the main actors in this film.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

He smiles. “Oh, did you recognize me?”

“You could say that.”

He smirks again, meeting your eyes with a ton of confidence, as if no one has ever turned him down. “Where did you recognize me from?”

“From your makeup chair. I do your hair.”

His eyebrows furrow together. “No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Since when?”

“Since the beginning of the shoot 6 weeks ago.”

Rallying, he replies “I think I would remember a face as pretty as yours.” He waggles his eyebrows, seemingly unphased by the fact that he’s seen you for hours at a time, every day for weeks and doesn’t recognize you.

You stand, gathering up your things and you see his smile falter. Good.

“You probably would, if you ever looked up long enough to say hi.”

You walk past him without giving him a chance to answer.

—----

The next morning, you walk to your trailer, intending to set a few things up before the makeup girls come in. To your surprise, Dieter is sitting in the chair, no one else around. He’s scrolling on his phone and looks up when you open the door, a smile stretching across his face as he turns off the screen and shoves his phone in his pocket.

“Are you the hair girl?”

You sigh, stepping in and closing the door behind you. “I am.”

He’s got one leg propped up on the counter in front of him, the top 2, no 4 buttons on his shirt are open and he’s running his hand along his shoulder inside the shirt.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Bravo?”

He lets out a raspberry. “Please, call me Dieter.”

“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Bravo?”

His eyes move up and down your body again, landing back on your face. “You can take your mask off for me, so I can see that beautiful face of yours.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignore this comment and move about the trailer, setting up what you needed. You feel his eyes on you the entire time and you find yourself growing more agitated by his presence with each passing minute.

You stand next to him, shuffling things around in the drawer in front of you. Glancing up in the mirror, you see his gaze shift from your ass to your eyes, smirking when you glance away quickly.

“So…are you a fan of my work?” he asks.

“Some of your earlier movies were great.” You answer in a bored tone, continuing to organize what you need.

“Liked what you saw, eh sugar lips?” You know he is smirking even without looking at him.

Pulling out the traveling case you brought with you on set and ignoring the nickname, you answer him in a distracted tone. “Yeah in your younger days you weren’t half bad to look at.”

He gets quiet for a moment and you replay what you said in your mind, realizing you may have bruised his ego. Good. But you weren’t a complete asshole so you look up at him, an apology forming on your lips until you see his face.

He’s staring at you, his eyes glazed over with something…lust? A cocky smile on his face as he pulls his arm out of his shirt and settles further into the chair.

“You think I’m attractive?”

Shit. That’s not what you had meant.

“In that film..what was it… Spanish Nights?” you pretend to think, even pausing in your work to add to the effect. “You were alright. That was a while ago though.”

You resume your task but notice that the smile on his face falls slightly. Despite how much you don’t like him, you feel a little bad about what you said. But before you can say anything, the makeup team enters and it’s time to start your day.

—----

It’s annoying now that he sees you. You didn’t realize how much you actually liked him ignoring you until now. In between takes, if he’s not running lines, he’s talking to you, telling you stories about his past projects, crazy stories about ex girlfriends, anything he can think of.

“You hear the accent I’m using? I came up with that! They heard me and insisted I use it for the film! What do you think, sugar lips ?” His eyes were big and round, brown orbs looking at you hopefully, as you continued to adjust his hair on set between takes.

You’re about to answer when you see his eyes shift behind you briefly and you chance a glance, disguising it as a stretch. A woman walks past, her hips swaying as she walks, tossing her perfect hair over her shoulder, revealing her perfect cleavage. You roll your eyes and look back at Dieter, hating him a little more now.

“Not a fan.”

—----

A few weeks of this goes by, Dieter debating with himself on whether he should continue to pursue you or act cool and aloof. It’s clear that the “charming hot famous actor” bit has always worked for him before and here you were, unaffected by that charm.

One morning you walked into the trailer, Dieter already sitting and waiting for you, as per his new normal routine. The makeup girls came in, did what they needed to do and left you with him. He continues telling you stories about himself as you work, smiling and winking at you every time he could catch your eye in the mirror. When you were finished, he turned towards you and took your hand, which surprised you. Dieter wasn’t typically physical with anyone on set unless it was behind closed doors, so-to-speak.

“Why don’t you take your mask off for me? I want to see that beautiful face again. It’s all I can think about since that night with the sandwich.”

You lean down to get eye level with him and he smiles wider, shifting in his seat to meet you head on.

“What’s my name?” you ask him.

His eyes widen for a moment and it’s like you can see the wheels spinning in his brain, desperately trying to remember if you’ve ever told him your name.

“That’s why.” You pull your hand from his grip, grab your case, and head out the door, heading to the first set of the day.

—----

He hadn’t spoken to you the rest of the day, but to be fair he hadn’t really had a chance. There were a ton of reshoots and new lines to work, these scenes being heavier on the action than others.

After the final “CUT!” of the day, which had turned into evening, you head back to the trailer, the makeup girls tossing their case inside and heading out to get food by the kitchens.

“I’ll be there in a bit. Just need to clean out my case - that hairspray leaked everywhere.”

Taking everything out of your case, you carefully wipe down each item, tossing the combs and brushes into your jar of cleaner. You wipe down the case, spraying into every corner and cursing out the manufacturers of the bottle. It was apparently not meant to do anything other than sit on a shelf and what good is that? Sliding the open case over to the corner to let it air dry overnight, you hear the trailer door open and close behind you.

“Was dinner a bomb- oh.” It wasn’t the makeup girls. It was Dieter.

“Sorry. Thought you were the girls. The makeup girls.” you clarify for him.

“Nope. Just me.” He flashes that cocky smile at you and you just want to reach out and slap it off his face.

“What do you want, Mr. Bravo?” you sigh, exasperatedly.

“I told you to call me Dieter.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I insist.”

“I don’t have to do everything you tell me to.”

He puts his hands up. “Hey, hey. I came in here to try and make peace and all you do is start shit.”

You scoff. “I start shit? Mr. I-can-only-talk-about-myself-and-give-2-craps-about-anything-else?”

“You’re not a nice person.” He takes a step towards you.

Your jaw drops open, offended as you are a nice person to nearly everyone else in the world. He just makes being nice to him so difficult.“Yeah? Well you’re extremely entitled, self absorbed, and a jerk. And you have a stupid earring.”

He gasps and it nearly makes you laugh. “How dare you insult the earring!”

You step towards him. “I shouldn’t. It definitely fits your aesthetic.”

Dieter steps closer to you. “Yeah? And what is my aesthetic?”

“Pompous asshole.” A small step towards him, just a couple feet from him.

“Yeah? Well yours is angry bitch.”

Something inside you snaps and you slap him across the face, the sound echoing off the walls of the small trailer. His face turns to the side with the force and he rights himself, his gaze boring into you as his expression changes.

You grip his shirt and pull him to you just as he closes the space between you, your lips crashing against each other. He immediately deepens the kiss and you let him, feeling his tongue massage yours and you hate to admit it but he’s actually good at this. You bite his lip as you pull back, reaching up to grab those damn sunglasses from his face, throwing them on the counter behind you.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

You launch yourself at him and he falls back, laughing as he lands. His laugh is cut off as you quickly straddle him, working to open the 2 buttons that were actually closed on his damn shirt. But the buttons wouldn’t come open so you grip his shirt and pull, the 2 buttons popping off and flying across the trailer in opposite directions.

“Hey that’s my shirt!”

“Oh shut up you barely use buttons anway.”

“You’re such a bitch,” Dieter exclaims as he starts tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“You’re an asshole,” you respond, ripping your shirt up and over your head, tossing it across the trailer and reaching for the clasp on your bra. You undo that and chuck it, feeling Dieter's hands grab your breasts and start massaging them. Giving into the feeling for just a moment, you grab his wrists and pull them from you, pushing them down on either side of his head.

“No touching.”

His eyes are wide, lust blown and angry, but he listens, growling into the kiss you give him as you bite his lip, pressing your chest against his bare skin. Grinding your hips, you swallow the moans that come from him.

“I hate that you’re soft,” he groans into your mouth.

Standing, you undo your pants, sliding them down and off along with your underwear, but before you can straddle him again, Dieter sits up, grabbing the backs of your thighs and rubbing them while he stares at your core, his rings cold against the heat of your skin.

“I hate that I want to touch you, bury my face into you,” he says as he moves closer to your apex.

“I hate that you’re still talking.”

Pushing him back down, you straddle him again and move your hands to his pants, fumbling with the tie as you try to undo it. Why does he wear these awful pants??

To your surprise, he grabs your upper arms and pulls you to him, staring into your eyes briefly before he kisses you, winding his tongue through your mouth. You lean into it, temporarily losing yourself in the kiss. Why does he have to be good at this? There’s a moment, something that passes between you both, but before you have time to dwell on it, he pushes you up.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

Your hands find the tie on his pants and finally undo it, and Dieter tries to help you shove his pants down, both of you breathing heavily into the small space. But you keep bumping into each other so you swat his hand away.

“Stop. Let me do it.” You demand.

“I know how to undo my own pants.”

“Fuck you’re insufferable. Just let me.”

“No, I can-ngghhh.” You cut him off, having reached into his pants and pulled him out.

And honestly, you need a moment because this was not what you were expecting.

He’s big, long and thick, a lovely color and already hard, leaking a little. You feel your jaw dropping slightly but then you catch sight of his face, a bright smirk lighting him up as he sees you take him in. You clamp your jaw shut.

“Like what you see, sugar lips?”

You take him in hand, squeezing a little harder than you normally would, just to see him grunt. He tries to grab at your hands but you drop him, grabbing his wrists again and pinning them to the floor on the sides of his head.

“Just shut the fuck up,” You drop one of his wrists, moving your hand back down to hold him as you line yourself up, slowly lowering yourself onto him. Gripping his bicep, you squeeze it, unable to prevent the moan from escaping your lips as you feel him inch into you, feeling every ridge and being as he stretches you, lighting up your body with desire.

“Fuck!” Dieter grunts. “You’re so tight.”

Lifting yourself, you pull almost all the way off of him before you drop your hips down and cry out as Dieter pokes at a spot at the very back of you. Then you see that damn smirk again and you roll your eyes. Moving your hips, you start to grind down on him, feeling him touch nearly every part of you.

“I really..hate..that smirk,” you pant out.

“You’re such a..bitch.” Dieter responds, panting out between words as you start to fuck him into the floor.

The hand you’re not pinning down shoots out to your hip, gripping you tightly, digging into your skin as he guides you, making you move harder, faster. The touch sends an electric shock through your body, lighting you up as you feel your climax build.

“Fuck!” you cry out as you come, hips sputtering as your body lights up, your breaths puffing out erratically.

You realize that Dieter still has a strong grip on your hip and is moving you, sliding you across his dick as he chases his own high. A part of you, a large part, wants to push him away and leave him here without coming. But instead you decide to do something else.

Your fingers wind around his hand on your hip as you push against him to stop your movement. His eyes fly open, blown wide open with lust and anger.

“What the fuck?” he yells out.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you slam his wrist into the floor by his head and lift off of him, the tip of his just touching your entrance. His eyes are frantic now and you swear you can’t see any of the brown, as if the black of his pupils has taken over.

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

“You’re such a bitch. I hate- ngghh.” You slowly slide back down on him, taking your time inching him inside of you, loving the way he writhes under you. Once he bottoms out, you move your hips very slightly, tracing little circles as you grind down on him.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me.” Dieter grunts out, pushing against your hand slightly as he lifts his head to look down where you’re joined. You feel his breathing start to speed up, his hips tensing, so you pull off of him, smirking down at the frustration on his face.

“I didn’t say you could come.”

“God, I hate you!”

You repeat this process a few more times, Dieter’s face growing more angry and desperate with every thrust of your hips. But then you see the tears building at the corners of his eyes, the restraint and lust finally becoming too much and you take pity on him.

Speeding up your hips, you grunt out “Come for me!”

His hips sputter as he comes instantly at your command, his little grunts and moans filling up the trailer and you have to admit, you love the sound of them, the way his brow furrows up and together, his mouth hanging open in an o shape.

He comes down and opens his eyes, watching you behind heavy lids. His hair is mussed up, his face holding a fucked out expression. He looks hot like this-

Before you can follow that thought any further, you push off of him, Dieter letting out a hiss as he slides free of you. Grabbing up your clothes, you get dressed quickly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by what just happened, but more so because you actually enjoyed it.

“Hey-”

Before he can finish the sentence, you open the door and close it behind you, heading to your room at a quick pace.

What the fuck was that? I hate him. HATE. HIM. And I just…but that was kind of hot? He’s kind of hot. WHAT THE FUCK GET IT TOGETHER! You pinch the bridge of your nose, cursing yourself for jumping on him.

Tomorrow is going to be so much fun.

—----

That night you decide to sneak out for a snack again, making another sandwich and sitting at the small table shoved up against the wall as you eat, propping your book open to read, hoping to distract your mind from the million thoughts running through it.

Hearing footsteps, you glance up and see Dieter walking towards the kitchen. Much to your annoyance, he spots you and shifts course, heading for you. You’re about to tell him to leave you be but then you take in the way he’s walking. Not strutting or shuffling, but a simple, average walk. He stands at the chair across from you and gestures to it.

“Mind if I sit?”

Shocked he even asked, you nod and gesture towards the chair. He sits and you notice the familiar green robe he wears, purple shirt and black sweatpants back on, but the sunglasses are not around. Interesting.

Dieter leans forward a little, looking at you. “Can I ask you something?”

Thinking he’s going to ask you about what happened, you swallow hard. “Sure.”

“What’s your name?”

Not what you were expecting, you hesitate a brief moment before responding. “Sugar lips.”

He smiles softly. “Not what I meant. I mean your real name.”

You consider him for a moment. He looks genuine and those big, brown eyes bore into you. You tell him your real name and he smiles.

“Such a beautiful name.”

“Thanks, I guess. Everyone usually calls me Bee, because I’m always moving.”

He smiles again and then gets up, pushing in his chair and walking towards the kitchen. He’s gone for a few minutes and then reemerges with a plate, waving to you as he heads back upstairs.

Don’t catch feelings for him. Don’t do it, Bee. Don’t do it.

Shit.

—----

Part 2 >>

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hotlineslasher · 3 years

Text

Interview With A Slasher

Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard

A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn

AO3 link

***

When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.

And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.

Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.

So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.

“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.

Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.

A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”

It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.

Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.

“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.

Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.

His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.

“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”

“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“

“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.

You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.

He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.

You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.

“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.

“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.

You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”

His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.

“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.

You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.

Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.

You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.

“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.

A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.

“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.

“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.

He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.

You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.

Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.

The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.

You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—

You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”

You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.

Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.

#dead by daylight #danny johnson #DBD Ghostface #dbd danny #dead by daylight x reader #ghostface x reader #dbd fanfic #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson smut #danny 'jed olsen' johnson x reader #slasher #slasher community #slasher smut #smut writing

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

Text

Puppet Master

Summary: Riley Biers, king from the shadows.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vampire mob shit

Reader: Female Vampire Reader

Pairings: Riley Biers x Female Vampire Reader

Word Count: 2,310

A/n: @fyeahtaylorp

Masterlist

“And what do we have here?” Aro questions, tilting his head as Felix forces the vampire he, Demetri, Jane and Alec brought back from America.

“This is one of the two vampires responsible for the newborn army in the Cullen territory, Master.” Jane tells him. “The other was torn apart and burned.”

Aro steps forward and places his hands on the American vampire. He struggles but is unable to escape Felix’s grip. Aro reads his mind. He sees his life, his death and his ‘resurrection’. He pays particular attention to the part in his memories where the Cullen boy, Edward, told the guards about this boy being his daughters mate.

“I see,” Aro whispers, pulling from him. As far as he could tell this vampire had no ability other than the fact that he is easily manipulated. For millenniums he had hoped that when his daughter finds her match they would be as useful as she is. The fact that he’s one step away from being useless is a disappointment.

His first instinct is to kill Riley before his beloved daughter ever finds him. Then, perhaps, he could find a suitable match and have Chelsea bond them together. Unfortunately, for him, the plan is just a passing thought as not even two seconds later the woman in question struts into the room.

Riley instantly senses you. He struggles even more in Felix’s grip until he can see you. Even though you’re barely in the corner of his eye, it’s enough to settle him.

“I wasn’t informed a trial was in session,” You state, your voice sounding as smooth as honey. Riley craved to hear it once more.

“Ah, my darling,” Aro greets, smiling brightly at you. You return the smile, albeit a more reserved one, as you walk to his side. “They have just returned from their mission and brought back the one responsible for all the trouble,”

“I see that,” You mutter, your eyes not sparing your friends a single glance. You stare at the kneeling man as he stares back at you. “Have you come to a verdict?” You question. Aro’s calculating eyes stare are you.

“He created a newborn army, caused quite the eruption.” Aro tells you. Your head turns to him. It only takes one look for you to catch onto what was going on.

You love your father as he loves you. The two of you worked hard to build this coven. As much as you loved him, you weren’t naïve. You knew your father’s thirst for power. You knew he would do anything to gain an inch, even if it meant hurting the ones he claimed to love.

You also knew him like the back of your hand. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. Even if it had only been a few minutes since you walked into the room, you could already sense the tie binding you to this new vampire. A tie that Aro knew about. You assume, by the look in Aro’s eyes, that this vampire has no ability to please Aro.

Only vampires that were useful to Aro’s ultimate plan survived breaking the law. The only reason he’s still alive is because of the connecting tie to you. Still, you knew that wouldn’t have been enough to save him had you not arrived.

“Well, I’ve been paying attention to the human news. I haven’t seen a single report about some demonic creature tearing apart a city in America. That means the vampire secret is still a secret.” You tell him. Aro’s lips tighten, his eyes trained on you.

You walk toward the kneeling vampire, unable to help yourself you comb your fingers through his hair enjoying how his eyes close briefly to enjoy the contact. You don’t stop walking, you pace around Felix as you continue with your second point.

“Has he had any dealings with the Children of the Moon?” You question.

Aro shakes his head hesitantly. A pleased, yet cocky, grin lifts across your face.

“He hasn’t exposed our secret to any human, unlike your precious Edward Cullen. He also hasn’t hunted in Volterra, that I’m certain of.” You mutter, knowing that your friends had brought him straight to the castle. “He hasn’t been a false witness to any other crime. Any immortal children?” You ask, your eyes glancing to your father as you pause by the twins.

“No,” Aro says lowly. You stare into your father’s eyes wonder if he wanted you to continue or if he was done pretending to be in charge. He remains silent prompting you to continue.

“Yes, he has caused some attention with his hunting habits,” You concede. You slowly move back toward Aro. “and yes his newborns made a mess of things. However, all the newborns are now gone and his hunting's in the future will be more... discrete,” You promise him.

“The Volturi do not offer second chances,” Caius growls from his throne. Your eyes roll as you turn toward him.

“Oh, do shut up Caius or I will have you punished for the town you drained in 1305,” You snapped, glaring at him. You and Caius spend a few moments staring each other down. A stare down you inevitably win. A small surge of pride runs through you when Caius averts his gaze.

Turning your gaze, you look back at your father. You continue to step closer to him until your just about toe-to-toe. You’re posture is relaxed but your gaze is challenging. You dare him to go against you.

“So, let me get this straight you want to kill him for a law that has been broken by everyone in this castle at least once?” You ask. “I just don’t see how that’s necessary,” You hum.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Aro states.

“Perhaps,” You hum condescendingly. “Felix, let him go.” You order. The brutish vampire releases Riley. You hold your hand out as you continue to stare at your father. Riley looks around him as he slowly stands up. Slowly, he takes your hand. “Though, is suppose to make up for his transgressions he can have a place on the guard,”

“A marvelous idea,” Aro nods. You hum, taking your gaze off of him. You send a smirk to Caius before pulling Riley out of the room.

“What’s going on?” Riley askes you quietly. You don’t answer.

You take him to your part of the castle and into your private quarters. It’s one of the largest rooms in the castle. It certainly impresses Riley.

“Make yourself at home,” You tell him, closing the door behind the pair of you. Riley turns to you after observing the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Riley asks.

“Before I tell you my story,” You say taking a seat by the table. “Why don’t you tell me yours? It’ll be easier that way,”

You waited for Riley to begin. You understood his hesitance. When he did begin, you soaked up every detail. You managed to bite back multiple growls at every mention of this bitch Victoria. You didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed that she’s already dead. You honestly would have liked the pleasure of killing her yourself.

“Well, I can tell you for certain that Edward was right. Victoria was using you. She wasn’t your mate.” Riley sits down in the adjacent seat. “You weren’t anything more than a means to an end,” You tell him.

“What is this place?” He asks, looking at you. “What am I doing here?”

“This is Volterra, Italy. You are in the Volturi castle. We are the strongest and largest coven of vampires. The vampire world, like the humans, have laws. We’re the coven that enforces them.”

“And I broke your laws,” Riley states.

“Some minor ones,” You shrug. “You did nothing that nobody else in this coven has done,” You assure him. Riley frowns his eyebrows and you sigh. “Think of us as... the vampiric mob.” You smirk. With that explanation, everything starts to click for Riley. “Every vampire here serves a purpose because every vampire here - well, almost every vampire has some sort of ability. Like Edward with the mind reading and Jane with the torture,” Riley nods keeping up with you so far. “If you have value to the coven, you live. If you don’t, you die.”

“And what is my value?” Riley asks. You press your lips together.

“I’m your true mate,” You tell him not wanting to beat around the bushes. “You’re still alive simply because I want you to be.” Riley’s eyes widen a fraction.

“You’re my mate?” Riley whispers. You nod, gently holding his face in your hand.

“And I have waited for you for over three thousand years,” You tell him.

“You’re-... What?” Riley asks. You grin laughing at his astonished look.

“I had lost faith that you would come,” You whisper to him. “I figured after all the lives I took and destroyed that I wouldn’t ever find you. I figured you had lived a human life and died long ago without me ever knowing. I never believed I was worthy of you but here you are,” By the end your sentence you had moved even closer to him. “And I will destroy this entire coven, my father included, before I allow one of them to harm you.” You promise.

“Three thousand years?” Riley whispers. You laugh kissing his cheek.

“I hope you’re into older women,” You whisper in his ear before leaning back in your seat. Riley’s quick to grab your hand before you can withdraw from him completely. You smile, interlocking your fingers with his.

“You’re father’s in this coven?” Riley suddenly asks.

“Aro,” You tell him. “He can read every thought in your mind with a single touch,” You explain. Riley instantly pictures him. “He would have had you killed had I not shown up,” You mention.

“Can you read minds too?” He asks. You smirk.

“My gift’s a little deadlier than mere mind reading,” You tell him. Riley raises his eyebrows obviously wanting to know. “I can kill everyone in this castle at the same time without lifting a finger or blinking an eye,”

“How?”

“Molecular combustion,” You tell him. “I can speed up the molecules in your body until you just burst. I can do it so fast you won’t feel a thing or I can draw it out,” Riley winces. “So, as you can see, if I want something, I get it,” You wink at him.

“What do you do here?”

“Destroy problematic vampires,” You answer shortly. “My father, along with Marcus and Caius, run the coven. I’m not into politics or power all that much. I have enough to make me happy. I have more power sitting in the background than I would on the front lines,”

“How so?”

“Fear,” You smirk. “Everyone here is afraid of me, with good reason. I’ve killed some of my fathers prized possessions more than once. It’s why the twins make such an effort to befriend me. I’ve also sped up Caius’s molecular structure enough to cause severe pain for a month straight after he pissed me off one time. They can’t control me. They can rule the coven all they wish but if I want something all I have to do is take it. It brings me great joy to watch the oh so powerful Kings of Volterra shudder in fear at the sight of me and stand by helplessly while I take what I want. Stomping on their ego is always satisfying.”

“So, even though I have no power, I will be apart of this coven?” Riley asks.

“Yes,” You nod. Riley slowly smirks.

“And since you truly hold all the power, does that make me the second most powerful vampire?” Riley arches his eyebrows. You chuckle winking at him.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Riley smirks broadly. “You spent the last year being that red headed whore’s puppet but now you’ll spend the rest of your immortal existence playing puppet master with the strongest coven, hell the entire vampiric race as your puppets” You tell him.

Riley imagines his future with this kind of power. You stand up and walk behind him. Your arms circle around him and rub his chest. Your head nuzzles into his neck, your teeth nipping at his marble skin.

“Anything you want, my love, I will be sure to give it to you,” You promise him.

“Your father is the king of Volterra... but if we control him then...” You hum biting his ear seductively.

“You catch on quickly, my dear” You whisper to him. In a flash, you come in front of him and straddle his waist. His hands instantly grab your hips. “Rule from the shadows,” You tell him. “Wil Aro, Marcus and Caius as a front all opposers and enemies will target them instead of us,”

“Surely vampires know of your power, wouldn’t they be able to figure it out?” Riley asks.

“When I use my power, I never leave witnesses outside of this coven,” You tell him. “There are only three people outside of this coven that know of my power. Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, and Alice Cullen. Should word spread, I made sure they knew what I would do to those they love,” Riley smirks holding you close to him.

“Rule from the shadows, all the power we want, all the benefits, hardly any risk,” Riley mutters.

“A major step up from small town Forks, don’t you think?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Well, I certainly didn’t think this is where I’d end up,” Riley admits before getting handsy with you. You smirk, dragging your nails down his chest. “Certainly glad I did though,”

“Ditto,” You whisper, pressing you lips to his unable to hold back any longer.

#Riley Biers #Riley Biers x reader #Riley Biers x Female!Reader #Riley Biers x Y/n #Vampire!reader #vampire #Plus sized reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #Volturi #female!reader #Mate #soulmate

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hoedorokishoto · 3 years

Text

Trust - Part 1

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

+ Minors DNI

| part | next

“You know, if you just stopped getting kicked in the head, I wouldn’t need to fix your gear all the time.” I said, my hands running over the smooth metal of Hitoshi’s voice modulator. Different from the first one I had made him 2 years ago; small changes being made to help your best friend become the best hero he could be.

“Maybe I miss hanging out with you. You are worth a swift kick to the head.” He said from behind me, walking around the room as he spoke. Looking at the various machines, weapons, and other projects I was working on in the workshop. I laughed at his response, shaking my head as I screwed the missing panel back into place.

“You flatter me.”

Hitoshi Shinso had been your best friend since before both of you were even born. Your dad and his parents, living next to each other since their early 20’s, experiencing drunken nights, sad days and the trials of parent hood together. So in turn you and Toshi had done everything together. First steps, first words and first days of school.

“I saw you and Mr Aizawa on TV.” I said beaming, the thought of him realising his dreams and making them a reality enough to make my heart soar.

“Oh yeah, it was pretty weird. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Neither will Mr Aizawa.”

“Lucky you guys are so chatty.”

It was him who laughed this time, coming up next to me and hugging me into his side. I did miss him, his hero work and my support work taking up much of whatever spare time we had. Especially being 3rd years, our futures looming over us even more, having to make final decisions about our future. Gone were the days of dressing up as our favourite heroes and running around our homes catching our parents who pretended to be villains. Now all I seemed to think about where internship offers and upcoming exams, mathematic equations often overtaking my thoughts even in my dreams.

The gear didn’t need much fixing just a loose panel and a few scratches, something easy that I could fix in a matter of minutes.

“Good as new!” I said, holding up the voice modulator and admiring my handy work, then passing it back to Hitoshi.

“You’re the best Y/N, ramen is on me next time.” Hitoshi said, winking and taking the equipment from me. Placing it over his face and making the necessary adjustments.

The workshop was surprisingly quiet, usually filled with the noise of machines and steel clanging together. The music usually turned up to max volume as the other support course students worked on support gear for other heroes. Hatsume clearly wasn’t here because it had been a whole 3 hours with no explosions nearby.

“So how is Kaibara?” Toshi asked, quirking his purple eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes at his question, stepping around him and back over to my tool bench.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?”

“Well I only ask because you seem to know him a lot better than I do. Intimately I would say.”

“Ew, don’t say intimately. Are you 95 years old?” I said, faking chills and a look of disgust on my face.

Sen and I weren’t dating, I didn’t want to date him but the time we did spend together proved effective in helping relieve the everyday stress of living at UA and being a Hero Support student. The sex was good, and he was handsome, always considerate of me and never did anything I was uncomfortable with. The more I thought about it, the more perfect he seemed. He very well might be, but just not for me. There was never any substance behind my feelings for him beyond the attraction to sleep with him. If we did interact outside of the bedroom it was purely platonic, just friends and nothing more. As bad as it sounded, I was using him for personal benefit and nothing more.

"He talks about you a lot.”

I looked into his eyes and flipped my hair, a cocky grin overtaking my features.

“Well… what can I say?”

“Not like that you weirdo, he asks a lot of questions. He wants to know more about you.” Hitoshi laughed, slapping my arm, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you guys not talk?”

“Why would we need to?” I asked, not quite understanding the question. My back to Hitoshi now, tidying my workstation as I waited for his answer. We knew what we needed to know about one another, our names, birthdays, and a few general things but beyond that it seemed irrelevant.

“I think he likes you.”

“Well I hope he does he puts his penis inside me Hitoshi.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant. He like likes you.”

I stilled; my back still turned towards my friend. My view of relationships was always clouded by indifference. I could blame it on the fact that my parents didn’t work out or I could blame it on my preferences, hell I could even blame it on my star sign. Whichever excuse I chose I always knew that deep down I knew that relationships would never work, and people were better off alone, if I didn’t fully give someone my heart there is no way that they could rip it out of my chest and step on it. I would never put myself in that situation.

“That sounds like his problem, not mine.” I said coldly, picking up my bag and heading to the door, hopefully hearing the end of this conversation.

“Ramen is on you remember. I’m hungry.”

Without another word I flicked off the light by the door and headed out of the workshop, Hitoshi picking up speed to walk beside me, not saying another word.

The walk back to UA was always killer, that dam hill being the bane of my existence for the last 3 years. The silence was almost deafening, I could feel Hitoshi holding something back. Wanting to say something, something about the conversation earlier no doubt.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I can feel you being gloomy, more so than usual. It’s irritating.”

Hitoshi sighed, rubbing his eyes with one of his hands. Shaking his head as he stopped.

“I want you to be happy! Is that so wrong? What’s wrong with Kaibara?”

“If you like him so much why don’t you date him.”

“I don’t want to make jokes!” He said, stepping past me, and continuing up the hill.

“Why is this so important to you? You’ve never really cared before.” I asked, jogging to catch up to him. He didn’t answer, he just linked our arms and continued up the hill. Pushing whatever he was feeling down and sealing it away.

“Denki is having a party in the 3A dorm this weekend. Wanna come?” Hitoshi asked changing the subject and tightening his arm around mine.

“Mr Aizawa is allowing that?”

“Yeah, apparently it will be good for us to blow off some steam before the school year really kicks off. His words not mine.”

He sensed my hesitation.

“Hatsume is going to be there, she even convinced IIda to go.” He said raising his eyebrows.

“Wow, that is impressive.” I said matter of factly, nodding my head. The class rep of the 3A was known for being a real stickler for the rules. Keeping everyone in order and always being the epitome of a model student. Bless his soul, but he wasn’t really the party type. The picture of him in that environment was enough to convince me to go.

“Please, who is going to help me stop Denki from being an idiot?”

“Literally any of his other friends?”

“Yeah but you are so pretty, and he is a simp.” Toshi said matter-of-factly.

“Fine, but if I don’t see Tenya do his little arm thing at least once then I’m gonna be so mad at you.” I said giggling and tightening his arms once more.

“I can guarantee it, it will be Denki and a party. It’s like you don’t even know him.”

Me and the rest of class 3H had been instructed to be at Ground Gamma for a joint training session between 3A and 3B, the hero support students were to observe and help with gear whenever needed. Taking notes on current gear and seeing where adjustments were needed. As the future heroes got better at handling their quirks and being in tense situations some fights ended with a lot of damage. Whether it be to the heroes themselves or their gear, that’s where we came in.

I always seemed to forget just how big the facilities at UA really were, most of the grounds built to look like entire blocks of actual cities. Ground Gamma was made up of various exposed pipes and machinery, the combination giving a labyrinth affect perfect for heroes to improve theirs fighting skills in tight spaces.

Watching them was impressive, just how far they had come in a few short years was a credit to just how hard they trained every day. I felt safe and content knowing that these people were going to be patrolling the city one day and keeping people safe.

“Hey stranger!” a voice yelled in the distance, Sero’s tall body coming into view as he walked closer to me. Denki and Toshi following closely behind.

“Afternoon.” I said, saluting the boys as they got closer, standing on either side of me examining the work bench and tools that we had set up before anyone else arrived.

“How is my favourite little nerd?” Denki asked, nudging my arm with his and hugging me.

“I’m good, excited to see you guys train today.”

“Aw babe, prepare to be amazed!” Denki said, winking at me, his arm still slung around my side.

“Y/N could watch me burp the alphabet and be more impressed.” Hitoshi said sarcastically.

“You guys are so harsh.” He replied, clutching his hand to his chest and feigning sadness.

The group laughed as I turned around and prepared for this afternoon’s events. Ready to take notes and sketch new designs. The students had started filling up the platform, sitting in the groups they had been assigned, discussing the best plans of attack depending on their quirks.

“Everyone gather around!”

“Today will be a bit different, after today’s exercise we will be assigning you with new support students based on where we think the heroes need improvement and previous projects from the support course students. We will also be looking at your scheduled internships and work studies and matching you based on that so we can get all heroes and their gear to the best they can be before graduation.” Mr Aizawa said, commanding the attention of everyone on the platform. He wore his usual nonchalant expression, hair down and hands in his pockets.

Everyone talked amongst themselves about the recently learned information. As of right now I worked on Bakugo, Uraraka and Hitoshi’s costumes and support gear. The first two hero costumes were my entrance exam task, getting a rough design, a file on both students and their quirks and having to design according to that. Now making adjusts when needed or wanted. The most recent addition was two earpieces for Bakugo to reduce the noise of his explosions but still allowing him to hear regular noise, so he didn’t lose any sense while fighting. In hopes that his explosions wouldn’t damage his hearing anymore than it already had.

New projects were always welcome, in hopes of keeping my grades high before graduation. Hero Agencies always quick to offer students internships based on good grades and successful support gear.

“So to get this started, give it your best and good luck!” Allmight finished, the first two groups of students heading to their assigned bases to start training.

The training finished, class A’s teams winning the most training battles and celebrating accordingly. Cheering and hugging each other. My notebook already full of notes and sketches for potential changes and brand-new designs.

“Everyone please look up at the screen and look at who you have been given as your support students. There will be no changing so no complaining.” Aizawa said, already walking off the platform. Probably to wrap himself up in his sleeping bag.

There in large blue writing was my name.

Y/N Nanase – Hitoshi Shinso, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki

I looked over at the student who was newly assigned to me, there Shoto Todoroki was in all his half and half glory. One blue eye and one dark grey already staring back at me.

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto smut

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sloppy-butcher · 3 years

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could u write some hcs for kate and jane (like, separately) and a survivor whos completely whipped for them so in trials theyre always unhooking them, acting as a distraction when theyre being chased by the killer and theyd totally headbutt the killer and get hurt just so that jane/kate can escape safely. just literally anything to make sure they stay safe. thank u

i will absolutely write ANYTHING for the sweet ladies! thank you so much for the request and i hope these are good!

HeadCanons For Kate Denson and Jane Romero with an overly-altruistic S/O

Kate Denson

Many would say that Kate is one of the more subtle of the lady survivors. But when compared to the likes of Nea and Meg, anyone can be made to look extremely dainty and girly. Kate, however, sits precariously between refined and bat-shit crazy. She starts off quick and kept-to-herself but when fire sparks under her feet she can be pushed to do the most outlandish and unexpected. So imagine what it must have been like in that first trial with you and her.

Kate is getting chased by a rather pissed off Huntress when suddenly out pops a fiery head, screaming and rushing over with the grace of a giraffe on stilts. You holler at Kate, waving your hand over your head not only to greet the beautiful girl but also to distract the killer. Huntress goes to swing and you manage to push Kate just enough to narrowly miss the attack. She looks at you with wide, impossible eyes.

“Why did you do that?” Kate gasped, passing her attention between you and the killer who was quickly gaining distance again. You grin a most marvelous smile, “I dunno. Just wanted to help.” Kate scoffs. “You’d help me more if you did gens.” Then the chased started anew but with the addition of a rather annoying tag-along. She found you most bothersome but when ultimately she and everyone else escaped unscathed, Kate turned to with a bright expression. You smiled at her again, reaching out and grabbed her hand in yours and lifting in triumphantly in the air. You were too busy cheering to notice the gentle blush that accompanied her fond face.

That is how things would go from then onward. God help the killer that had to deal with your combined tom-foolery, when the two of you were together no one could be caught - it was simply impossible. If you were the first one to be found and chased, Kate would be by your side in a heartbeat. Oh, you’d die for her? Well not unless she dies first. However, like nuclear atoms, the two of you bounce off one another until you created a toxic reaction. Unstoppable and unbeatable.

In a fit of rage, you once slammed a toolbox into the back of the Trapper’s knee causing him to buckle slightly and drop your Kate. She fell gracefully and disappeared into the brush with a grateful ‘Thank you’ look. Later in that same trial when the Trapper had finally cornered you, Kate appeared and viciously grabbed at the various spikes sticking painfully from his back. Thrown off-balanced he chucked you in her arms. Kate looked down at you and raised a cocky eyebrow, “Just wanted to help.”

Kate waited for you at an open exit gate, arms open and calling as you ran with the killer still hot on your heels after a 5 gen chase. She explodes in delight as you smash into her wrapping your own arms around her body and hugging her close. She starts peppering kisses along your neck, with each one pulling away momentarily only to smile. By the time she reaches your face, you have already pulled her into your lips, kissing deeper and deeper and tipping her over slightly. She melts into you, giving you everything she has to offer. Finally, you break apart from your blissful embrace only to see the killer roll their eyes in either annoyance or disgust and hurridly shoo you out.

Jane Romero

Jane is the most regal lady. Though sensitive to others with a heart big and deep enough to swallow the ocean whole, she is able to always get the job done regardless of the strain it would put on her. She is a workhorse, bearing the yolk of her suffering with determination and diligence. She prefers to work alone however, it is easier to only blame yourself when things go wrong and not drag others down with you. But that all changed when you showed up. From the first moment you saw her at the campfire, back straight with one leg crossed over the other, you knew that she was the one. A most gorgeous creature, mother nature incarnate. She looked so beautiful bathed in the golden light of the fire that for a moment you forgot exactly the type of place you were in - oh right, this was purgatory. And you were all going to die.

You vowed then that as long as you could run, as only as you could breathe you would try your absolute damnedest to protect Jane, no matter the cost. And that’s exactly what you did. It started off subtle, always showing up exactly when Jane needed healing or assistance, and slowly progressed to you actively taking part in her chases. She taught you how to stun killers by jumping out of lockers and quickly you put your new skills to good practice, stopping killers who were gaining too much distance on her. Jane appreciated your help but never expected that there were deeper implications to your doting help. It was only after you sacrificed yourself for her did Jane finally notice everything.

She approached you at the campfire, eyes watery and fists balled. “Why did you do that!?” She demanded, standing over you looking like on the verge of a breakdown. Fearing the worse you rise to your feet and with palms open, you reach fr her. “Jane, dear, what is wrong?” Before you could make contact however Jane pulled away, “Why did you sacrifice yourself for me back there?” You frowned, confused about what she was referring to. At your expression, she scoffed, turned her head away, and wiping a hand over her face to catch her falling tears. She inhaled deeply, body shaking from the physical and mental exhaustion she had been enduring for so long. Your heart arched to ease that long-worn suffering. “You died...” Jane tried again, not daring to face you for fear of losing all control again, “You died back there. For me.” There was a stretch of silence between you two, one that allowed you a moment to piece together her tragic story. You had sacrificed yourself for her, taking her place at death’s door and giving a second chance at life. When you died you must have forgotten it all but when you caught wind of the muffled sobs Jane tried desperately to choke back. She moved you by doing almost nothing at all, your fingers burning for only an inch to move forward.

“You are so stupid.” Jane finally composed herself enough to speak without wavering. Her head turned to look at you with red, weepy eyes and a trembling hand clutched to her chest. “Why would you die for me? I had everything under control.”

“Because I love you.” You said without hesitation, taking a bold step forward, your heart calling out for her to please not block you out. Surprisingly, Jane did not retract from your approach and instead stared at you with the most heartbroken and sad face. Very quietly as if not even said, Jane whispered, “That’s what you said before.”

Jane would accept your love with the only condition being that you would never go out of your way to be stupid for her sake again. And though you did dial it back by some degrees, there were still some hairy moments like taking a hit for her when a killer tunneled or going in for the risky unhooks. She, of course, never appreciated your uncalculated actions and often scolded you with a lecture and wigging finger like a mother would a child. But afterward, when huddled by the warm campfire, Jane would wrap you in her sweet-smelling arms. She breathes out and the world would be good and she would rest her head on yours. No longer was this her burden to bear alone and how relieved she was for you.

#dbd imagine #dbd survivors #dbd jane romero #dbd jane romero x reader #dbd x reader #dbd kate denson #dbd kate denson x reader #dbd headcanons

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henbased · 3 years

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For the horror asks, can I get 4,8,13 for Jude & 16,21,26 for Logan pls???

ABSOLUTELY thank u sm <333 these were really good ones!! esp for logan i had to Think

4. How does your oc feel about blood and gore? Does their opinion change between fake gore in movies and real gore?

Jude hated it lmao even in movies. She was that kind of person who would gag anytime the really gnarly part of a movie came on and hide her face behind a pillow and say "tell me when it's over".

Her time in Hope County has obviously desensitized her. She can handle real blood better, now, it's just a fact of life. But maggot-infested corpses and seeing people get their brains splattered still makes her feel Some Kinda Way, not that she'd ever show or vocalize it. She's able to disassociate herself from the killings, but the gore that remains is an uncomfortable reminder that grounds her in the reality.

8. What would your oc do if they knew they were going to die in the near future?

Have a fun, very loud, very long romp with Joseph, kick back with a beer and enjoy what she's got. Jude would never kill herself but if Death came a'knockin' on her front door, she'd invite it in for coffee.

13. Has your oc ever tortured/hurt someone else without killing them?

Joseph Seed. She beats the shit outta him on the reg. He's into it but that's not on trial.

Bunker time of mutual torture. A lot of their time down there when they weren't fuckin' was spent finding ways to get on each other's nerves in exceedingly small ways.

In s2 now that Johnny-boy is alive and forbidden from killing her, Jude likes to hang out at his ranchsion blasting music and drinking his very illegal wine. John would claim it's torture, but it's also John Seed talking.

[Send me some Horror Themed asks!]

16. What's the worst thing that has happened to your oc?

The reapings began when she was at some party, just beginning to peak in her trip, so she ended up scattering into the woods with a bunch of other's when peggies turned up shooting and kidnapping folks. While she's peaking. And then she gets lost in the woods, at night, while she's peaking, and still had like 5 hours left of her trip. Safe to say it was the worst trip of her entire goddamn life.

21. If given the choice to become a monster, would they do it? Would they give up their humanity for power?

are you kidding me. absolutely, no hesitation.

26. What would it take to “break” your character? What would destroy them completely?

This! Is interesting to think about. Because Logan is very strong willed. Unlike Jude, Logan's not lost in her wrath, but she's too cocky. Things to get to her like they should with other people. You could kill her family and, yeah, she'll be upset, but she won't stop living her life because they decided to go and up and die, y'know?

Prolonged isolation would be the trick, I think. Logan's entire schtick is based around people. She loves people. Loves interacting with them, cuddling, pissing them off, getting reactions and seeing people just live. Being stuck with only herself- it wouldn't bother her, at first. A neat little vacation. But soon enough she'd grow bored and go looking for some type of reaction, and having no one but herself to keep her entertained for however long? She'd lose it. Would finally admit that perhaps, just maybe, she really is fucking annoying.

#oc: deputy jude #oc: logan gates #the idea of tripping while being shot at and running into the woods at night #i get sick at the idea of it #rip logan you kinda deserved it and also its funny for me #oc asks

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dweetwise · 4 years

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random thought, but what if the party had been in the entity's realm? i dunno, seeing el just yeet palettes at killers would be a sight though kjdshkjs

i did this whole speech about how i can’t deal with kid characters in dbd so have some of the adult cast instead! i’m sorry it’s not what you wanted but i hope it’s ok <3 also let’s imagine them joining separately or this won’t make much sense. spoilers for st season 3!

Stranger Things characters as dbd survivors

Jonathan

So many tears from both sides when he reunites with Nancy. She's heartbroken that he's stuck here now too, but is also really happy to be with him.

Jonathan doesn't care about being trapped for potentially eternity. He’d literally do anything to be with her, and he would have come voluntarily.

Leans his forehead against a crying Nancy’s, smiles and murmurs “What’s one more shared trauma?” while Nancy chokes out a laugh through her tears.

They're disgustingly adorable at camp, constantly sharing soft looks and smiles and inside jokes.

Nancy will need lots of reassuring that Jonathan’s mom and brother will be okay without him, and that her own family is coping.

With Jonathan around, Nancy starts coming out of her shell more. She gets a lot of her fire back, determined to find a way out and rebel against the Entity.

Jonathan and Steve quickly become friends, as they were on good terms even before, but Jonathan is so grateful Steve has been there for Nancy. Steve is just glad to have a familiar face and is super happy for them.

Would probably bond with Jake because they're both pretty damn weird. Also Claudette and Adam, being the more quiet types, and Zarina for the photography.

Robin

Fucking screaming when her and Steve see each other at the campfire. “Dingus! Where the fuck have you been!?”

When she's given the ‘welcome to the fog’ talk by Dwight, her smile fades. “You're kidding,” she says, eyes wide, before turning to Steve. “Please tell me he's kidding.” “Sorry,” Steve cringes.

Is surprisingly quick to embrace the situation, following Steve’s lead in dealing with the situation with humor. Steve gets even more dorky and hyper than before, happy to have his partner in crime back.

Imagine Steve and Robin, full scoops outfits, bullying the shit out of killers.

She vibes with Nea and Feng who totally teach her all their toxic little tricks. She also finally gets to properly know Nancy, and they become fast friends as they have a lot in common and Nancy loves hearing about what happened in Hawkins after they were taken.

A lot of the other survivors mistake Robin and Steve for a couple, right up until Robin gets visibly flustered by a bear hug from Kate. She secretly also ends up crushing hard on Claudette, but doesn’t tell a soul, not even Steve.

That doesn’t stop her from bugging Steve about whether he has a crush and to let her wingwoman for him.

Once starts talking to Anna in Russian and nearly gets adopted and starved to death, but is luckily saved by Bill forcefully pushing her out through the exit

When she gets overwhelmed by the death and violence, Steve sneaks her away and lets her cry on his shoulder. Other times she tells stories of Dustin and the other kids, who looked for Steve and Nancy every day for months, and pets his hair while he quietly sobs into his Scoops hat.

Joyce

Steve and Nancy couldn’t be more confused upon seeing Joyce. “Mrs. Byers? What are you doing here?”

She's worried about her boys but quickly pulls herself together. Reassures Nancy that Jonathan is safe and free from Hawkins drama, though he’s never been able to get over Nancy after her disappearance.

“What about the kids? Are they okay?” mama bear Steve butts in. He smiles brightly every time she tells him stories about the kids’ adventures he’s missed.

She's a resourceful lady and does quite well in the trials. Hates most killers but is still furious with Demo for kidnapping her boy. Even David looks a little intimidated by her unbridled rage when she’s up against the killer, slamming pallets on its head and chasing it down when it tries to whimper away.

Will scold Legion like a disappointed mother. “What are you doing, boy? Is this what your parents would have wanted?” Joey actually pauses mid-frenzy, knife raised, before lowering the weapon and shuffling his feet in shame. “Sorry, ma'am.”

She's a good addition to the survivor camp, as they’ve never had a literal mom figure before. Laurie especially really looks up to her, and Meg loves her no-nonsense attitude. Joyce looks after the younger survivors and is on pretty good terms with everyone.

Well. With the exception of Ace. Upon first meeting him, she slaps him when he goes in for a cheesy kiss on her hand. “I was just told I’m stuck in an endless cycle of murder and violence—do you really think that's appropriate?” she scolds while Ace just grins.

Out of everyone, she’s the most determined to find a way out, inspiring a lot of the others with new hope.

Hopper

He's very confused and angry about the realm, even after Steve and Nancy explain everything. At this point he’s seen so much weirdness he’s just done with all the paranormal bullshit.

Just wants to go back to El and feels like her and the kids and the entire goddamn town of Hawkins need him.

Sucks in trials at first. “So let me get this straight... I have to repair machines and run circles around a piece of wood while a murdered is after me?” “Pretty much, yeah,” Steve shrugs. “Right, not happening. My gun has to be around here somewhere!”

Instant bros with Tapp because good cop and… good cop? Tapp is able to get through his thick skull with strategic advice, and they’re both very much about protecting the other survivors.

Fits in well with the rest of the Old Man Squad (TM) as well, even though Ash keeps trying to one-up his stories, Bill refuses to share his cigarettes, Felix constantly talks about weird future stuff, and Ace always teases him about his shit poker face.

He’s instantly very protective of Steve and Nancy and easily adopts Cheryl, Nea, Quentin, Laurie, Feng, Meg—the list goes on.

Billy

He did slightly redeem himself just before his death, but is still hesitant to join the group, thinking Steve and Nancy hate him after all the shit he put them and their friends through.

Nancy is wary but Steve is quick to forgive and forget. “Just don’t kick my ass or, y’know, try to kill us again, yeah?” Steve laughs a little shakily and, knowing Steve had more beef with him than her, Nancy follows his lead and eventually comes around.

Has a lot of banter with David, and nobody can really tell if they're best bros, hate each other's guts or have the hots for one another. The Entity gives him a shirtless skin too and they can usually be seen obnoxiously flaunting their abs together.

A lot of the others make fun of his hair and pretty boy look. Luckily he can take it in stride, dishing out just as much cheeky comments about Feng’s neon hair and some of Ace’s more questionable outfits.

Tries to hit on Jane because he's a thirsty fuck but gets a very patronizing “Talk to me in a decade, honey,” for his efforts.

Eventually opens up to Nancy that it's not fair for her and Steve to be stuck here, as they didn't do anything wrong. He thinks he deserves the punishment, and is surprised the Entity didn’t make him a killer after what he did.

He’s still a cocky little shit, though much more genuine than before—dying probably has that effect on you.

*cries* i’m so happy i got to write jancy i love them so much ;w; also i would 110% ship joyce and ace but i doubt anyone is surprised

#dbd headcanons #stranger things #jonathan byers #robin buckley #joyce byers #jim hopper #billy hargrove #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #dbd survivor #jancy #dbd #dead by daylight #request #dweetwrites

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vikingsagine · 4 years

Text

A Trip Down Memory Lane (Ivar x Reader)

Hey guys, this is a second part to, My Loyalty is Yours, I hope you like it. By the way, I love Ivar. I love how complicated he is. Although, I do miss season 5 Ivar where he’s a bit psycho and confident. And I miss his braids. Love them braids so much. Sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Summary: Small things remind you of Ivar. Reminding you to when times were happier and easier and how your relationship with Ivar really was.

Warnings : Very looonnnggggg. (sorry guys) Swearing, violence, slight smut. Rough. But not all the way. FLUFFY, I think. Margrethe (I hate her so much)

You sat with a lazy smile, optics observing the training men in front of you with Ubbe in front, yelling orders and stepping in to spar men with consistent mistakes. A week ago, you stood on a private trial with Bjorn Ironside to decide what to do with you. In the end, he came to terms with the rest of his ‘council’ to keep you alive and in the town of Kattegat. He said letting you go would be dangerous assuming you’d head to find Ivar, even though you said you wouldn’t, but also your battle abilities and strategies were much useful. You agreed because to be quite frank, you didn’t want to leave Kattegat, not yet.

“Y/N, are you just going to watch or are you going to get off your lazy ass and do something.” Ubbe called, snapping you out of your thoughts with that familiar smug smirk and taunting stare. It felt different, not having Ivar around, it made you confused and almost empty. He was your best friend and first love after all. Wherever he went, you went too. Like a dog to a Mother’s tit.

“Are you challenging me, horsetail?” You jumped off your feet and pulled your axe from the ground, returning the cocky grin and confident attitude. Ubbe took a step forward, pulling the sword up and pointing it towards you.

“It wouldn’t be much of a challenge defeating you, little girl.” The next, your axe and sword met in a friendly and welcoming manner. This reminded you of the old days, when you trained and sparred with the sons of Ragnar.

~~~

“Surely you can do better than that.” Ubbe remarked as you groaned on the ground, broken nose in your hand and bled. The older male by six years had finished head butting you and cracked your nose, now, standing over you like the champion. Hvitserk and Sigurd cheered, hollering as they both watched you and Ubbe spar.

“Keep flapping your gums pretty boy and I’ll make you cry to your Mother.” You cooed and spat blood onto the floor, then shoved your nose back into place with a crack. A groan left your lips while Ubbe snorted, crossing his arms with a clear expression of enjoying you writhe in pain. Asshole, you thought.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty.”

“That’s not much of a comment coming from her.” You glared towards Ivar who snarled a bold insult. He sat on a stool a few feet away from his two other brothers, also eyeing the fist fight on display. “What? It’s true.” The bright blue eyed boy flicked his fingers towards your face, more specifically, the scar engraved into the side of your left cheek. Long and twisted, reaching from the corner of your mouth and arched into a smile just under your left eye. Huffing out of annoyance, your leg swung under Ubbe’s and knocked him onto his ass, using this moment of distraction to your advantage. Ubbe groaned, while Hvitserk laughed, mocking his older brother by a few years. You pulled the axe from his side and threw it towards Ivar, successfully landing it an inch above his head with a thump.

“Mock me again cripple and I swear by the Gods-”

“That you’ll kill me?” Ivar snorted and crossed his arms. “You can’t, remember. Or have you forgotten. I’m your master.” Of course, you thought, he always took any opportunity to remind you of the unique relationship you two shared. Insisting that he was your ‘master’ and you, his ‘slave’. It angered you every time.

“Yes, you’re right.” Wiping the blood with the back of your sleeve, you laid back next to Ubbe with an exhausted sigh. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.” Ivar rolled his eyes again at your comment, glaring holes into the side of your face.

~~~

The night started to set, the stars illuminating in the sky like spots of light in the abyss of darkness. Bleak wind pushing against your raw cheeks, turning them red and making you shiver. You sat silently by yourself once again, outside of the hall where the echoes of another feast and drunken vikings sang. It wasn’t really your scene. You hated large gatherings of people, the bodies of strangers pushing up against you like mud was suffocating. Instead, you liked to listen, to hear their joy and songs and the lack of sorrow or pain.

“What are you thinking about?” Lagertha called from behind you. She had seen you flee the feast after a meal and decided to follow you. Not out of suspicion of you doing something terrible but out of curiosity. Lagertha had heard many tales of the small girl, your bold and skilled fighting. The many people you have slaughtered, children, old people, warriors, Christians alike. It was impressive but haunting.

“Nothing really, just enjoying the view and the music.” You turned your head to Lagertha, surprised by her sudden appearance but shifted enough for her to take a seat. You knew Lagertha, she was an inspiration to all shield-maidens out there. She still is. Even at this age.

“Will you betray my son?” Lagertha inquired, a stern and serious expression crossing her facials. It made you smile. You have heard many stories of Lagertha of her skill in the battlefield, even how people whisper about her being the shield-maiden protected by the Gods. But, in all honesty, all that was nothing compared to her love for her son, her family.

“I will be true to you, Lagertha.” You cocked your head to the side. “One day, I will seek Ivar and return to his side. I will fight for him and I will die for him. But, until that day comes, for now, my body and knowledge will remain here.”

“Hmm.” Lagertha replied in content. “Why do you not kill me?”

“Because I do not hate you. You have inspired me. Ivar is the one who sought to kill you, not me. It was his ambition and mine, my ambition is to serve him well and perhaps, bring him happiness.” A small smile made its way to your lips, the image of Ivar’s genuine grin and soft eyes. The memory melted your heart.

~~~

“Tell me, have you ever laid with anyone before?” Hvitserk inquired by your side, leaning over and knocking you a little. You laughed at his question, the jolt of a sudden euphoria slipping into your veins. You were drinking with the prince’s of Kattegat, all curled over the fire seeking out warmth and comfort.

“Please tell me you aren’t trying to flirt with me, dear Hvitserk.”You cooed, his flirtatious smirk all too familiar because you’ve seen him use it before, on many other women in Kattegat. Whenever he was drunk, Hvitserk had the tendency to try and fuck anything with a pair of boobs and a pussy.

“And what if I am?” He leaned closer, eyelids heavy and slurring over his words. It was clear to see, he was far too drunk and horny. “Is it working?” He attempted to press his lips against yours but you only pressed your palm against his face and knocked him off his seat. Ubbe laughed at the sight of his intoxicated brother, desperately flirting with Y/N but failed.

“Get off me you drunken bastard.” You gave Hvitserk a soft kick to the ass and sat back down, laughing with Sigurd who pulled his brother up to sit next to him.

“One day, I swear, you will be mine.” Hvitserk slurred, his eyes closed but his finger on you. Then he curled over and hurled into the bucket that Sigurd, thankfully, had. Everyone knew how Hvitserk drank. He drank until he dropped.

“Please, no one would want to fuck with that.” Ivar suddenly piped up, deciding to speak. The fire illuminating over his face, giving Ivar a dark glow. Ubbe scoffed out of annoyance, knowing Ivar’s sour words like he found pleasure from humiliating people. And Ivar did. He enjoyed it. “Not even a blind man.” You were used to his insults and rolled your eyes, sculling the last bit of your drink. Before Ubbe could tell his baby brother off for his rude behavior, you stood up and took shaky steps over to him.

“Oh please, Ivar.” Without hesitation, you slumped on the crippled boy’s lap with a smile. Ivar hissed at the rough impact on his legs, immediately glaring at your tipsy state. “Maybe a blind man wouldn’t, but perhaps a cripple would.” You threw your head back in laughter, enjoying how Ivar’s face turned into a scowl and looked at you like he was going to kill you. The next you were knocked onto the floor with a crash, the world becoming dizzy.

“I will kill you.” Ivar muttered under his breath as you clumsily took a seat next to the crippled, still amused by his reaction. Most people feared Ivar, even his brother’s, but you were the only one that wasn’t intimidated and treated him like a normal person.

“Uh huh and you’ll get functional legs.” Ubbe tensed, analyzing his brother for a dangerous response to your bold comment that most people would earn Ivar’s wrath. He glanced over to Sigurd who was also well-aware of the situation, becoming nervous and ready to pull you away from Ivar. You on the other hand, knew the consequence of your comment but still held your teasing gleam. Ivar cracked a large and toothy smile, his eyes softened with the fire illuminating his relaxed state. The sound of his laugh filled the tense hall and your heart fluttered at the sight and sound.

~~~

The door swung open, revealing the sight of a blonde woman with a pregnant stomach. In her arms was a small little girl, you remember as Elsa. Daughter to Torvi and Bjorn Ironside. Both of you stared at each other, unknowing of what to say.

“Is Ubbe here?” You finally broke the awkward silence, avoiding eye contact and straightened your stance. She moved aside to let you in, closing the door behind you.

“Yes, he is changing his clothes. He will be ready soon, I hope.” You sat down on a stool, near the table. You felt like a complete stranger that no one trusted, not that it surprised you. Everyone had their guard up around you as if you’d suddenly attack and bring Ivar back. Sometimes, the people of Kattegat would snarl awful comments about you such as being Ivar’s bitch or child murderer and so forth. “I do not trust you nor do I believe you deserve to be in Kattegat.” Torvi spoke truthfully but it did not shock you. “But, my husband seems to. He speaks fondly of you.” You drew your lips in a thin line, watching her as she stirred soup in a pot for the hungry children.

“I see.” Was the only thing you could come up with. You knew Ubbe loved you, loved you like a little sister and a close friend. You remember when you sat by Ivar’s side along with Hvitserk, you remembered the stare of a broken man. His heart was crushed. More so by Hvitserk’s decision, but disappointed when he saw you. It hurt to say the least, but it did not waver your loyalty or judgment. He knew from the start that you would always choose Ivar, always. You let out a sigh, furrowing your eyebrows together. Ubbe still had hopes that you’d stay and fight. It was your responsibility to break it, to destroy that idea for the sake of you and him. “I will talk to him.”

“Momma, can you braid my hair? I want to look just like Lagertha.” Else tugged at her Mother’s dress with hopeful big brown orbs.

“Not right now.” You were unaccustomed to such sights or the feeling. Children weren’t really your speciality. Your behaviour far too rough and blunt, not to mention your appearance wasn’t at all friendly. Nor was the constant cold and emotionless mask.

“Here, let me.” Torvi eyes you skeptically but continues with the soup. The small girl giddily approached you, no fear but a sweet beam. She patiently sat between your legs as you run your fingers through her soft blonde curls. The feeling felt nostalgic and your fingers felt an itch. An itch of memory.

~~~

“What is it that you want? You do realize I need sleep too.” You stepped into the room of your prince, rubbing your eyes from tiredness and exhaustion. That day, everyone was preparing themselves to return to Wessex England to get revenge for the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. Ivar laid in his bed, hips down covered by fur and blankets looking warm and cosy. Revealing his upper body, muscular and strong which didn’t come to any surprise since most of his life he’s been crawling.

“Braid my hair.” He simply demanded and patted the spot next to you. You shivered from the bite of cold lingering at night, even inside the halls of his home. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare all night?” Ivar growled and you instantly scurried over to the man. You weren’t unfamiliar with the bed, having slept in it before. You lost your virginity in the bed, having given it to the man laying next to you.

“You know, you’re an asshole?”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” He scoffed back and huffed. You felt him watch you climb into his bed, dragging the warm fur over your bare legs. Ivar stared at you, unaccustomed to your lack of clothing since you seemed to always wear hoards of clothes or battle armour. Yet now, he was left with curiosity as he saw the outline of your body from the light of his candles. You wore a thin white dress because your body grew hot easily and it was Summer.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll leave.” You glared over at Ivar who seemed a world away. “Come over here.” You motioned towards your legs, where he could sit and you could comfortably braid his longer thick black hair.

“I’m not fucking you.” Ivar stated blatantly, taking your motions the wrong way. But still, he crawled over and settled between your legs and pulled the blankets over his bottom half and your legs as well. His body was hard as laid down against your stomach and chest. You felt your heartbeat jolt at the feeling of his body so close, butterflies swarming inside your stomach and stretched towards your shaky fingers.

“I don’t want you to fuck me.” You lied between your teeth, the words hot with deceit. “Why didn’t you ask me this earlier?” Your fingers combed gently against the tuffs of his hair, the silk of soft and thick rubbing against your rough fingers. It soothed your heart.

“I thought it would make your life more difficult.” He teased. You could see his cocky smirk through the thickness of his locks and you tugged it back harshly causing Ivar to hiss.

“Sorry.” Now you were the one smiling with smugness. Your smaller fingers combed through, nails scraping against his scalp like a massage which you were doing but used the excuse of it ridding all of the non-existent knots. Ivar let out a long breath and relaxed more into your body, his weight pushing you against the surface of the wall. It was times like these that made you fall deeply in love with the insecure man.

“You didn’t say that the last time.” After a few minutes of silence, that you enjoyed, Ivar decided to break it. You raised your eyebrows and his comment, confused on what he meant.

“Excuse me?”

“You said, you didn’t want to fuck me but the last time you were in my room, I recall you begging.” This caught you off guard and made you freeze your actions. Something dropped inside your stomach. Eye trapped on the first to braid on the left side of his scalp, you were tempted to dig your elbow into his skull and make the blue eyed man take back his words. Ivar, of course noticed the way your body reacted. He felt you tense and felt the tips of your fingers leave his scalp - much to his dismay. “Don’t you remember?” Ivar didn’t need to turn to look at you to see the reaction he’d cause, the only reaction he knew he could cause. Instead, his hand found its way to your bare thighs and tenderly massaged your legs.

“Yes.” You coughed, breaking out of your embarrassed trance and returned to braiding his hair. You completely ignored the feather touch of his calloused fingers against the bare of your bruised skin.

“Is that a yes to me fucking you or a yes to me fucking you the first time?” Your heart beat sped up at the words, suddenly very sensitive to his body slumped against yours. You silently cursed the Gods and your heart, especially to the way your mind was reacting. Self-aware to the bare skin rubbing against your body, your chest and your stomach, only separated by an inch of fabric.

“As I recall it, cripple, you were the one that wanted to have sex not me. Why? Because you couldn’t get a fucking hard on.” Ivar chuckled lightly at your remark, entertained by your sour mouth around him. You were the first woman he had ever encountered to be so complicated. You were loud and boisterous yet silent and observant around other people. You were brutally honest about your opinion but still secretive about your feelings. You fought like a man but emotional like a woman - the side of you that he alone, witnessed. You were by all means unsaintly yet as pure as a flower. "So please be quiet. I rather prefer you better than to when you open that beastly thing of yours called a mouth.”

“I know you pine for me at night, scarface. Perhaps even touch yourself to the thought of me.” You could feel the tingles travel towards the pit of your stomach, the cunt between your legs betraying your words and forced intentions. It was too damn difficult to resist the man sitting between your legs, body firm and smooth pressed against you like suffocation. If he were strangling the truth of your lust out and into the open.

“Hmm.” You hummed quietly, deciding to play his game as well. “Maybe.” Your fingers now tugging at the last of his hair that had yet to be braided, you let a finger trace the side of his neck and down the inch of skin that connected his neck and shoulder - the area of where you sunk your teeth into as you came undone. Ivar’s body reacted with a shiver and the hand that was under the blanket was not applying more pressure to your thigh. Ivar enjoyed toying with you, this much you knew. He always found every opportunity to get you a mess. Whether it be an angry mess, an annoyed mess or a flustered mess. “Yet, maybe not.” You continued braiding the last of his hair, silk soft and tender. Not so long ago it was short and still as thick.

“Will you be by my side when we attack King Aelle and his armies?” Ivar’s voice dropped, barely above a whisper but held such vulnerability. This side of Ivar that only you could see, breathe and feel. It was intoxicating and dangerous. Made you want him even more. Finishing the last of his intertwined fragments of ink black locks, you let out a sigh and rested the top of your chin on his head.

“Of course. I will always be by your side.” Although the words were simple, they spoke how serious you were. They spoke truths you couldn’t admit to him or even yourself. They spoke truths that you knew would break your heart. Ivar found your small hand and held it in his, not saying a word but the action spoke thousands.

The sensation inside your body, warmed. The weight of his large and meatier hand is rough against your palms. Thumb rubbing small circles that did wonders to your body. It made your headlight and the familiar feeling of euphoria came back. A different type of euphoria. Not the one you gained from victory or tearing through the bodies of enemies or the many cups of ale. It was the type that was pure and real and honest. It made your heart weak but soar at the same time.

“Stay with me.”

~~~

His mouth latched onto the crook of your neck, lips chapped and dry but tongue wet and smooth. You let out a content sigh, your hands pulling at his long mane of hair. He sucked harshly on the soft skin, fingers already pulling your belt off and then ripped your pants down. Revealing your bare thighs, skin bruised and scarred from old scars and new minor wounds. His actions were rushed, pushing you onto a nearby table of his home and placed himself between your legs.

It wasn’t normal for you to fuck random men in a stranger’s home. Hell, he could be married with children. But it wasn’t like you were doing this for pleasure, no, it was to ease the pining at night. The unsatisfied tension from your cunt because of the lack of sex and physical contact with any man - Ivar, to be more specific. You didn’t realize how much your body had needed his touch, until last night when your body was hot and needy. So, first thing in the morning, you saw the closest man to you, you coaxed him into fucking you senseless. Which by the way, didn’t take much. Just a few words and a light press of your fingers.

“Oh, you’re so tight.” He growled into your ear, breath hot and heavy. You felt his prick slide into your pussy, which immediately clenched and tensed, a small moan leaving your lips. It wasn’t like he wasn’t a decent size, but it felt...bland. It was missing something. Something meaningful. You pushed those thoughts aside and tied to focus on the pleasure and pushed him onto the ground, only to ride him faster. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you’re a good bitch.” In normal circumstances, you would have punched the man over for calling you that but you were so desperate to feel something that it didn’t faze you. You closed your eyes and thought of Ivar. His touch. His lips. His kiss. His voice…

~~~

“I’m not having sex with you.” You stated bluntly once again. Over the past week, Ivar has been pressuring you to have sex with him because he never had sex before and neither had you. Over the two years he’s known you, you have earned his trust and his comfort and the feelings are mutual. Both of you can speak openly about anything, it was a privilege but also a nuisance.

“Didn’t you say that you were here to serve me? Not completely fucking ignore my demands.” You rolled your eyes at Ivar’s spoiled behaviour, annoyed because he could be an asshole but also a pestering asshole in the middle of your chores. You weren’t a slave nor were you rich or a lady that Queen Aslaug treated well. She didn’t hate you nor did she favor you. However, you were incredibly grateful for her hospitality of lending you a bed, food and the acquaintance of knowing her sons.

“Look, as you can tell I’m really busy right now.” You huffed and scrubbed the clothes to your clothes in the bucket of water harshly, ridding of the blood stains. “So do yourself a favor, and let your royal ass out.” You ignored the rest of his blabbering and then felt his presence leave. You let out a heavy sigh, body finally coming to an ease. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with Ivar but it was because you were actually, nervous. Really nervous. There were two major problems to that. One, you were nervous because you didn’t know how to fuck nor did you know if you actually could. And two, you have never been nervous before. The sensation was new and pestering.

You talked to Ubbe about it since he was the mature and responsible one. You asked him about sex and he was surprised, since you rarely asked anything. Literally. You kept to yourself and handled things on your own. But this issue didn’t seem to go away. So, you turned to Ubbe who out of all the brother’s wouldn’t judge or make any insults towards you, he was a good person. But even then, the knowledge didn’t still your nerves or excitement on that matter. You wanted to have sex with Ivar but still didn’t know how.

A few days later, you were sitting by yourself, observing the crowd of drunken people and reckless laughter. Your eyes find Ubbe who was flirting with one of the slave girls, Margrethe, a girl that got on your nerves and did not trust. Then towards Hvitserk, drinking beside Sigurd but his orbs were also glued to the slave girl and so was Sigurd, though he hid it better with his singing and playing the ute. Oh boy, you thought. But still, Ivar was nowhere to be seen, you found it odd since he enjoyed drinking and humiliating you or his brother, Sigurd. You stood up and approached Ubbe to inquire where he was.

“Ubbe, where is Ivar?” The blonde man pulled himself off of the slave girl who was giggling and clearly enjoying the attention of the famous prince. You had to admit she was beautiful but the instinct in your stomach proved otherwise.

“You always worry about my little brother my dear Y/N. Drink and let loose.” Ubbe replied, obviously drunk and too happy. It was useless to think that you could get a reply from him, so instead you approached Sigurd.

“I heard that Ivar isn’t completely a man.” Sigurd muttered with a slur to Hvitserk, who gave him a confused look. “I mean, his prick can’t stand or pleasure a woman. You remember when we took him to the lake house to fuck Margrethe, she told me that his cock didn’t work and that he threatened Margrethe.” That bitch, you initially thought. You knew how insecure and sensitive Ivar was. Especially with his brothers. Always needing to prove himself to them, making up for his legs or lack thereof. You knew Sigurd was drunk and wouldn’t carelessly let loose on his words but boy did you wanna start a fight right now. Your blood boiled, becoming protective over the cripple man and also having a good enough reason to punch the blonde girl.

Without hesitation, you marched over to the loving couple who were making out so carelessly and tore Ubbe off of her. Margrethe looked at you with horror as you lifted her to her feet and rammed your forehead into her nose, earning a crack and a shriek. Ubbe immediately grabbed you and stared you away from the slave girl who was crying but you could care less and spat at her one last time before you were thrown against the wall by the older man.

“What is wrong with you?” Ubbe yelled, glaring down at you with fire. You only wiped her blood from your face and huffed, pushing his arms away and stomped out of the hall. Ignoring the hollers of other Vikings and the hate-stares of Hvitserk and Sigurd. You would pay for this later since all three men were smitten and infatuated with that bitch of a woman. All thinking with their cocks and not their sensibility.

Soon enough, you found yourself slipping into Ivar’s room with silent and small steps. The noiseless night filled the hall of the Ragnarson’s large home, located in the great hall. You were dressed in an over-sized long sleeve shirt, falling passed your knees and freshly clean. You didn’t know why, but you were worried about Ivar. Because you rejected him countless times, even though he came to you and wanted you again and again. All because you were afraid. For the first time in your life, you were afraid. Scared that he’d reject you when you did just that towards him. Though these feelings were newborn, they were strong and passionate.

“What are you doing?” A sleepy and cautious Ivar suddenly inquired, halting you in your tracks of trying to crawl into his bed. Yet you continued, letting the warmth of the blankets engulf you until your body was awkwardly close to Ivar’s.

“I want to have sex with you.” Not knowing how else to put it, you stated only the truth. You felt his head shift to glance over to you.

“Why?”

“What else reason would there for me to fuck you Ivar? Because I’m horny and I want you.” You met his eyes, barely visible but you could see his crystal blue irises staring at you questionably. But soon his expression softened and he looked away.

“I can’t.” There was a tone of disappointment and pain behind his words and you knew exactly why. Because of that blonde bitch with a big fucking mouth. You growled inside your head, promising yourself that you’d deal with the girl later on if Ubbe or Hvitser or Sigurd didn’t interfere. How was a man like himself supposed to reach greatness if he had the confidence of a child? You knew, ever since you were a child, that the man called Ivar the Boneless would someday be a famous and feared viking. And you believed it with all your heart.

“You’re a stupid cripple.” You mumbled and then pressed your lips against his. They were soft and warm. Ivar seemed shocked at first, not knowing how to reply or to react. So, you prompted for a response by crawling over his body so you were straddling the man. You could feel the blood in your body rush to your cheeks, feeling heat and warmth spread at the feeling for him. A spark lit in the pit of your stomach. “A stupid cripple.” You spoke once again, admiring the way his eyes, crystal blue like the rare flashes of lightning that only occurred for a split second. If you were to blink, you’d miss its beauty and it's terror. This time, Ivar reciprocated the kiss with slow movements and timid hands that bunched at your hips, unknowing to do what.

“You do not understand.” He muttered between your desperate kisses and caught your roaming fingers that itch to feel his manhood. The only part of him that was left unknown besides his legs. The part of him that made you eager with a different excitement. “I can’t. My-” Before he could finish the sentence, you slapped his cheek raw and hard. The sound bouncing off of the walls and down the still hall.

“You’re gonna let a slave bitch really tell you how your body works?” You knew Ivar, knew him well enough to cause a reaction. This man was driven by anger and revenge. He was truly passionate when he was filled with rage and turmoil, where the beast lurks and the mind disappears. The reaction didn’t work though, not yet. He only seethed through the grit of his teeth and gave a shaky sigh, controlling his anger. It was sweet really, but you didn’t want sweet, you wanted him to fuck you. Fuck you until that confidence came back. “You’re a bitch Ivar.” You mumbled through light kisses, dragging down his neck and sinking your teeth into his skin hard enough to earn a loud hiss. “What happened to Ivar the Boneless, the one who proved everyone wrong?” You hummed teasingly, tongue dragging down his chest and giving one of his nipples a flick and down, down, down, to the bottom of his belly button. “I guess he lost his balls just as well as he lost his-” You yelped out in pain as Ivar grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked you up.

“You want me to fuck you, hmm? Want me to fuck that fucking cunt? Is that what you really want?” You could see the fury behind his eyes, felt it in the tenseness of his body and could sense it through the bulge of his pants that you felt proud of.

“Can you?” You teased, one hand holding his wrist and the other clenching onto the bed sheet. You suppressed the need to escape but didn’t bite your tongue back, not now. Not when he was clearly turned on.

“Careful woman, your mouth is too big for your own good.”

Ivar slumped over your body, both of you completely exhausted from prior activities. It was painful but enjoyable. Neither you or Ivar made a move, too surprised at what had happened but instead laid in silence and let what had happened sink in. You absorbed it. His rough fingers touching places where no man has ever ventured or rather tried, but still maintained his limbs and life. His lips ghosting over yours then meeting in a passionate dance like a bonfire or crashing waves or swords on a battlefield. Biting, sucking, clashing, needing, tasting each other like a man deprived. He was gentle and soft, maintaining his control as he felt your discomfort. The way Ivar coaxed tender things in your ear as you held onto him like he’d suddenly leave. The way you felt all of his body. His chest, his arms, his nose, his lips, his hips, even his legs. The way he relentlessly fucked you the second time, pounding into your cunt with so much force you couldn’t help the cries that shrieked in the household where others could hear. The way you both came undone with timid and slow thrusts, staring into each other’s eyes with soft whimpers and hands held. It was too much.

“Can I stay?” You inquired with slight nervousness. Apprehensive at the idea he might decide he doesn’t want you anymore, just wanting a fuck buddy or just a one time thing. He didn’t say anything at all, but his hand reaching out for yours was enough confirmation.

#vikings ivar #x reader #cute #ubbe #ivar fluff #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar #vikings #lagertha #vikings imagine

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13dead-ends · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two Unpacked

Henry Cavill x Named OC

Chapter Two of Blood Bound

Summary: Meeting Henry came with a huge surprise for Nina, but making a huge life change has it’s benefits.

Word Count: 5388

Warnings: SMUT! Sex dream, eating out, dom vibes if you squint, wrist biting/wounds, blood, blood drinking.

A/N: Hello! Smut time! Still some introduction things in there as well. I really hope you like it! The usual shout out to @hellcaster901 she’s the one reading my fics before anyone else! (Go read her Mando smut. It’s sooo good.) You’re the best girl! Anyways please enjoy :)

“Henry Cavill,” I said his name out loud, sucking in a breath afterward. Now that was a man. I pictured The Witcher’s bath scene and bit my lip. I blinked at his picture, a dorky one like his Instagram selfies. Which I most definitely do not stare at for long periods of time. He was already this attractive, feeding may be difficult.

The thing about feeding, giving your blood straight from the vein, it was very sensual. Especially on the human end. Vampires could control the strong emotion they felt, but humans felt it intensely, especially if they were attracted the vampire. I could manage mostly, but I was very attracted to Henry Cavill. I swallowed and finally tore my eyes from his photo to read his information. He was looking for a sugar daddy type arrangement. He wanted to take me out and spoil me. I liked that idea, but I hadn’t ever tried that before. He preferred separate living spaces as well, I liked that. Will fly you out to him when filming in other countries and likes to spoil. One more thing, I would be his first donor, if I accepted.

I’m surprised he hadn’t had a live donor before, especially when it sounds like he loves being a sugar daddy. I rested my chin on my hand, tapping it with my fingers. I hadn’t even looked at the other files, I honestly didn’t want to. I had an urge to pick Henry, despite the risk of losing it during a feeding, or maybe because of it.

I turned in the chair to face the phone, my eyes finding Kari’s name and extension right away. It was up to me; I can choose whoever I want. Kari told me today that they can set of trial periods before making anything permanent. If it’s too much or if I don’t like something, I can end it. I was dialing the right numbers and pulling the phone up to my ear. I still hadn’t opened the other files.

“Nina, Hello! I didn’t expect you to call so fast.”

“Yeah neither did I, but I think I know who to pick.”

“Wonderful! Tell me who it is, and we’ll set up a meeting.” I heard keys clicking.

“Henry Cavill.” I had to push the name out of my mouth. It couldn’t be real. “Did he really request me?”

“Yes, he sure did. Actually, he was just here this morning! He may be able to get a meeting in before he goes back to London.” My jaw dropped. That meant the meeting would be very soon. “Email sent, you two will discuss terms, and rules. The company requires a full lay out of what’s agreed, signed by the both of you.”

“Okay,”

“If things don’t work out now, you’re free to back out. After paperwork is signed, it’s a longer process, but you won’t be obligated to anything until the issue is solved.” She kept typing. “I’m emailing this all to you, so don’t worry about remembering it. Henry will also receive all of this.”

“Thank you, Kari.”

“Of course, how does lunch with Mr. Cavill tomorrow sound?”

Kari worked so quick I think I had whiplash. Before I knew it, I was getting ready to talk business with Henry fucking Cavill. Superman for god’s sake. I smoothed down the third dress I had tried on. It was a sweltering heat today; this would be the coolest thing I could wear. It was a spaghetti strap sundress, and I hoped I didn’t look frumpy in it. I jumped when my uber notification dinged, my ride was here, this would have to do.

I got to the cute café first. It was small and stuffy inside, so I took the liberty of getting an outdoor table. It was hot, a bead of sweat running down my temple, but when the breeze came it was like heaven. I gulped as a dark car pulled up. The umbrella on our table gave me shade, but I still had to squint to see who came out. Henry Cavill stepped out, straightening up as his feet touched the ground. The killed by sunlight thing was a myth vampires themselves created to distract humans. It worked. He wore a simple button up, but still looking effortlessly sexy. I took a deep breath, and with his vampire ears he’d hear it. Who knows, he could be nervous too.

He walked straight to me, confidence wafting off him in waves, but he wasn’t cocky. He didn’t even hesitate, like you do when you’re meeting someone you’ve only seen in pictures for the first time. He just knew it was me.

“Nina,” I stood, and he took my hand. Smiling, as he squeezed my hand.

“Mr. Cav- “

“Please call me Henry.” I nodded.

“Henry, thanks for meeting me.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you saw my file before I left for London.” I could listen to that low strong voice for hours. “I’m sure you have questions for me, I have a few for you.”

“Yeah, I have some.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m your first donor, right?” I was curious about that for some reason and anything goes in these meetings.

“And I’m not your first client.” I shook my head. “I had only been using the labs at Positive, and one day I decided to try something new.”

“I see,” I wondered what made him switch.

“And your last client, what happened to them?” I cleared my throat, looking away from him.

“Let’s just say he went too far one session.” I gulped feeling his eyes on me as I stared at my lap.

“I see, that’s something I wanted to discuss.” I looked up, and he was staring straight into my eyes, his blue gaze halting. “I know we are laying out boundaries and rules here, but whatever we decide, you’re not obligated to anything.” I couldn’t speak, with him looking right through me like that. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, or just don’t want to do something, just say the word.”

“Okay, thank you Henry.” Straight to the point. I liked it. A waiter came and took our orders, I got a mimosa, needed the confidence boost.

“That’s a reason I liked this company so much, they keep you in mind.” He leaned back in his chair. “Can I ask how often you would have your client feed?”

“Around once or twice a week. He didn’t have to feed often.” Henry nodded.

“Normally, that’s about how often I need. Around certain times while filming, I’ll need more, but I won’t be starting that for a few months.” I nodded. The waiter was back with our drinks and we ordered our food. I took a drink.

“It’s been a while since I’ve donated. It was a while before I got hired again.” I fiddled with my napkin. “I just want you to know.”

“Of course, I wanted to take everything slow anyways. It’s new for me.”

“The, um, spoiling, as your profile says, I’m not really used to that.” He smirked.

“Well I hope you do get used to it.” He leaned closer to me. “That’s what I’m excited about.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Could he hear that? I didn’t speak much with my last client. I never questioned the abilities they claim to have, maybe I’d get to ask Henry.

“I like the taking it slow idea, though. It’s best that way.” He nodded.

“Do you like LA?” I furrowed my brows at the question.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I’ve been here my whole life.” I was born here and hadn’t left. I took a sip of water.

“Have you ever wanted to leave?” I pursed my lips.

“Sure, especially to get out of this heat.” I took a swig. Then it clicked. “Wait, don’t you live in London?” He chuckled.

“I was getting to that.” He sighed. “This is probably the deal breaker, but I would like it if you moved there. I stared at my mimosa, wanting to chug the rest of it. “It’s a big decision, so I think we need to figure that out before going any further.” I nodded.

“I-I’m, I guess I hadn’t really thought about this.” He smiled, but his eyes weren’t as bright. I wanted to face palm.

“It’s up to you, of course. But I think you’re a good fit for me.” I cleared my throat.

“I don’t know if I can decide now.” I mumbled my brain was going a mile a minute. Moving, to another country. This was crazy, but I had always wanted to go to London. Living there could be amazing. It might be a fresh start after all the mess I had just dealt with.

“I understand, if you need time, we can finish that conversation later.” I swallowed.

“Your profile said you preferred separate houses.”

“Yes, there’s an apartment, I have the lease but if you decide to move, it’s all yours.” I couldn’t believe that he was offering all this.

“I feel like you’re a good fit for me too, Henry.” I took a deep breath.

“But?” I shook my head.

“I’m not sure if there is one.” His eyes brightened up. “I want to go.” His blue eyes brightened.

“Really? Are you sure?” He was smiling as he spoke. “Yeah, I think I need a change of scenery.”

“I’m sure you’ll need some time to get things sorted out. I’ll give you my number before we go, I’m going back to London tonight, but I want to keep in touch.” I blinked.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” My brows were furrowed. I didn’t like not having a more time with him before moving my whole life.

“Yes, unfortunately. I have some script readings there coming up, though I would really like to stay and get to know you a little bit better.” He leaned closer to me. “Take you out a few more times too, but I can’t. This time.”

“This really isn’t what I’m used to.” I cleared my throat.

“I can tell, but you’re hard to read. What are you thinking?” I flinched back a little at his bluntness.

“A lot of things. Everything’s flying around my brain right now.” I let out a chuckle. “London holy shit.” I covered my mouth. “Sorry,” Henry laughed loudly, and it made me laugh too.

“Don’t worry, I can handle a little swearing.” He smiled at me. “I know it’s a lot all at once, so just take your time. Keep in touch with me while you do.”

“London? London!” Irene squealed. She jumped up and down, and then grabbed my arm. “I can’t believe you’re moving to London.” Her smile fell though. “You’re moving to London.”

“Oh, Irene,” I hugged her neck. “If you don’t want me to go, say it.” Leaving her behind would be hard.

“No, I want you to go. I mean I don’t want you to go, ugh. You know what I mean.” She hugged me back. “This’ll be good for you. A new start.”

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” I mumbled.

“I’ll miss you too.” I heard her sniffle and then she pulled away. “But this is exciting. A good thing! We’ll have to start packing, I’ll help you.”

“Once I’m settled and everything. You’ll have to come visit.” I smiled at her. With the pay raise I was about to get I would fly her out by the end of the year.

“You have to come back for Christmas, or my mom will be pissed.” I laughed thinking about Irene’s mom. She used to yell at us for smoking weed out Irene’s window.

“I will be there.” I only packed a little bit with Irene, then we got distracted and ended up watching Narcos again. Then we fell asleep.

Within the next month and a half, I was staring at my empty room. I had decided to keep paying my half of the rent until Irene found a smaller place. I could afford it for a while at least. I had done all the paperwork for the company, and my work visa. Most of my bigger things had been mailed to the apartment and I had a larger suitcase of clothes and things I would need right when I got there. I took a deep breath, and I wanted to chew my fingernails.

“Nina, are you ready?” Irene called.

“I think so.” Irene was sending me off, and that is what I was dreading.

“Come on, we can’t be late.” I rolled my suitcase out and sighed.

“Bye apartment,” I muttered.

“You have to send me pictures, and maybe some sneaky ones of Henry.” She winked.

“You weirdo, but I will.” We laughed and then my eyes welled up. “If you really want me-“

“No, I want this for you and besides how else am I going to get to see London?” She had tears in her eyes. “Stop crying, you bitch.”

“You stop!” I hit her shoulder and then we hugged.

“Be safe and don’t be a shut in.”

“Okay,”

“And call me anytime if you need me. And- “

“Irene, I will.” She let me go.

“Come on, your Uber is here.” She didn’t want to do the goodbye at the airport. I don’t think she could hold out on letting me go for the ride. When the driver pulled away, leaving her on the sidewalk I had to think about something else to keep from crying.

The flight was long. I never wanted to see the inside of a plane again, but it was stopped now, I was waiting to get my bag from the overhead and trying to check my phone without elbowing someone. Henry and I had been texting or calling throughout the whole process. He asked about my life quite a bit, and I tried to ask about his but, he never gave away much. The last text I got before my flight boarded, was from him, saying he wouldn’t be able to meet me at the airport anymore. He was sending someone for me though. A very rich person thing to say. He hadn’t sent anything else since that message and I sighed. He was a busy guy and sometimes took a long time to text back, and sometimes that bothered me.

I could finally get to my bag, so I snagged it and got in line with the rest of the passengers. I was in London. A completely different country. I grinned into my phone. I texted Irene that I was here, and then told Henry. I decided to ignore my phone, so I didn’t trip on my way out of the plane.

“Henry’s so sorry he couldn’t make it. His schedule gets mixed up sometimes.” The tiny red head smiled at me. Her name was Penny, Henry’s assistant. “But he wanted me to personally come get you.”

“Thank you so much, Penny.” I gripped the straps of my bag.

“Of course, dear.” She was vampire too, I wondered how long she and Henry had known each other. “The baggage claim is this way.” We through the motions of getting my bags and she led me out to a black car, the driver came out to help me with my luggage. Penny and I got in. The driver got in and looked over to us.

“To Henry’s, Penny?”

“Not today,” She handed him a sticky note. “There’s the address.” She patted my knee. “We’ll get you settled at home today.” I was excited to see the apartment in person, but I was curious to see Henry’s place. The drive was way longer because of the traffic, but we drove past Big Ben and a few other famous places. It distracted me from the crazy driving.

The car stopped and Penny unbuckled. I followed her as she opened the door and slid out. My feet hit a sidewalk. I looked up and saw an apartment building. It looked older, but it had modern looking steps and doors.

“This is it. It’s a bit out of the main part of the city, but it’s closer to Henry’s place.” The driver took my suitcase all the way through the lobby and to the elevator. Penny pressed the third-floor button and we went up, the driver staying on the first floor. When the doors opened Penny lead me a few doors down and unlocked one.

“Here you are, dear.” She showed me around. The living room and kitchen were in one open room, an island separating the spaces. It wasn’t huge, but it was perfect for just me. “Your bedroom and bathroom are down that way,” There was a short hallway with only three doors. “Plus, a closet there.” Henry had most of the place furnished, I got some things myself though. I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom, a bed and desk in there.

“Thank you, Penny.” I came back to her.

“Of course! Henry told me that the fridge is stocked up, but I think that’s everything.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, Nina.” She left and shut the door behind her.

“Holy shit.” I let myself say as I took my own tour of the new place. I went to the kitchen first. Penny said it was full and I was starving. I made myself a sandwich and then went to the living room. There was a smart TV hung on the wall and there was a big comfy couch to sit on. I sunk into it as I fiddled with the remote, figuring out how to play music on TV. Once I did, I went to my bedroom and started filling the small walk in closet with my clothes. I found my bed sheets too and put them on. My blankets still smelled like my old apartment.

I was plopped on my bed, the long flight and time difference catching up with me. I couldn’t sleep yet, it was only three, but my pillow seemed to be calling me. No, that’s my phone vibrating. I pulled it out and saw Henry’s number on screen. I took a breath and answered.

“Hello?”

“Nina, hey, settling in okay?”

“Yeah, I love the apartment. It’s perfect.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me.

“Good, I’m glad. I was wondering if you’re up to it tomorrow would like to go to lunch?” I chewed on my lip.

“Yeah sure! Hopefully, jet lag doesn’t make me sleepy.” He chuckled.

“If you feel too tired, we’ll do it another time.” I heard someone in the other end calling out Henry’s name. “I’ve gotta go, actually, I thought I had longer to talk.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” I smiled as he hung up. I picked a show to binge after and stayed awake for as long as I could. When I woke up, the sun was just starting to rise. I couldn’t fall asleep so I made some tea, Henry had gotten some of my favorites, we had talked about tea for some reason during one of our conversations during the past month. I smiled into the steaming mug and went over to the armchair, turning it towards the window so I could watch the sun rise. As I finished the last of my drink my phone buzzed.

Hey, how was the first night in London? Your packages should be there today, or yesterday haha! Love you. Call you at 7.”

I smiled at Irene’s message. We had looked up the time differences and decided that 7 o’clock would be the best time for me to call her. I can’t remember what her time was, but I was excited to talk to her. Plus, the rest of my stuff should be here. I got up and put my mug in the sink. At around 8 my packages came, and I started unpacking. I some extra clothes and furniture I wanted to bring with. I was filling the bookcase in my bedroom with all my books when Henry’s number lit up my screen.

“Hello?” I pressed the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I shoved Stephen King’s It on the shelf.

“Hey, you still up for lunch?” Shit. I forgot about lunch. I was still in my PJs and my floor was covered in boxes and items I didn’t have spots for yet.

“Oh, um,” I chewed on my nail.

“If you’re not up to it, I have another proposition.”

“Which is?”

“I could just pick up something and come over.” I blinked at my messy apartment.

“Well, the rest of my things got here, and my place is a shit show.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you unpack.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,”

“I know, but I’d like to. If you’re okay with it?” I sighed.

“Okay, can you bring Chinese then?” He chuckled.

“Yes, I can.” We picked out our food and hung up. I finished putting my books away and got dressed. I felt like I had barely made a dent in the unpacking when Henry finally knocked on the door. I ran over to get it, excited for food more than anything.

“Hi,” I smiled, grabbing the food from him. “Thank you for this, and sorry about the boxes.” He stepped in and shut the door. I took the bag to the island. His beard had grown out completely He was wearing a tank top and my eyes wouldn’t leave his biceps.

“You’re welcome, love.” I sat down at the island before my weak knees could give away the fact that love affected me so much. “Where should I start?” He looked over the room of boxes. I opened up my food and started eating.

“Um, well, my other bookshelf needs to be built.” I pointed to the wooden pieces I had taken apart at my old place. The one in my bedroom had filled up. I’d put this one out in the living room and display some of my favorites.

“Other bookshelf?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“The one in my bedroom is full.” I shrugged. He chuckled and went to work. When I finished, I went to a box of photos and wall art. I started picking places for them to hang and snuck glances at Henry as he built up the shelves. At the moment he concentrated on the level of the shelf, brows furrowed at the wood. I chewed on my lip and went back to hanging up a picture of Irene and I at a house party in college.

“Who’s that with you?” I jumped, Henry was behind me, looking over my shoulder.

“My best friend Irene. We were roommates before I moved.” I smiled at the picture. We had dressed up as Velma and Daphne. “It was Halloween our freshman year I think.” He looked at me.

“You look good in glasses.” He stated and walked back to the shelf.

“Thanks,” I cleared my throat, finding another picture and hanging it.

“Okay, I think it’s done.” Henry tapped the bookshelf.

“Yay, thank you.” I found my other box of books and slid it over. He opened it and we pulled out books.

“Ah, Stephen King.” He had The Shining in his left hand and The Gunslinger in the other. He was currently looking at the back of The Gunslinger.

“Yes, my all-time favorite.” I had The Great Gatsby and The Witcher in my hands. I put The Witcher behind my back, pursing my lips.

“What’s that one?”

“The Great Gatsby.” I held it up. “My favorite book.” He shook his head.

“The one you just hid.” I pulled the book back out and showed him the cover. The biggest smirk I had ever seen spread over his face. “You are a fan.” The smirk turned into a full-sized grin. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes, I am. I love the show so much.” I smiled. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looked anything but, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“No, not at all. I’m glad.”

“So now that that’s out of the way, when’s the new season coming?” I laughed and he joined.

“Unfortunately,” He clicked his tongue. “I can’t tell you that.” I pouted.

“Fine. It was worth a shot.” I shrugged. We started putting books up, Henry reached over my head to get the ones on the top shelf for me.

“What are you gonna do if you want to read these?” I handed him the last Game of Thrones books.

“I’m probably not going to read those beasts again,” He chuckled. “But I guess I’ll just have to call you.” I high fived myself in my head. I wasn’t usually that smooth.

“Okay, love.” I shut my eyes; would I ever get used to that. It was a normal thing in the UK but it made my heart skip. We filled it and still had some space to spare. I filled it with some more photos and decorative things. It looked nice.

“Perfect!” I clapped. “Thank you, Henry.”

“Of course, what’s next?” I looked around at what was left of my boxes. Most were already broken down. What was left was a few things I just needed to find a place for or needed to be packed away in back in storage.

“I think it’s pretty much done. I just need go through those boxes.” There were only two thankfully. Henry smiled and I sat on the couch.

“How’s London been so far?” Henry sat down, on the one end. He leaned back, his arm laying on the back, close to my head.

“I haven’t really gone out yet.”

“As soon as I can I’ll take you to see all the sights.” I smiled.

“I’ll make a list.” He smirked but laughed.

“So, what did your friend, Irene, think of you moving?” I pulled my legs up to sit criss cross.

“She was sad but wanted me to go. I miss her though.” Henry nodded, and then it was quiet. I looked over at him and he was staring up at a painting I hung on the wall. He hadn’t taken any blood from me throughout this whole process. “Um, Henry, I was wondering, you haven’t fed,” I cleared my throat. “Yet, and if you need to, just ask.” He took a deep breath and turned his head back to me.

“As long as you’re comfortable enough. I didn’t want to spring it on you our first day together.” I shook my head.

“Thank you for that. But I think I’m good now.” He moved closer to me and our knees touched. I swallowed.

“If you’re sure, I’ll only take a little today. I wanted to take it slow.” I nodded, then he grabbed my hand. “Is from your wrist okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He held my wrist in his big hands like it was going to break. I gulped and shut my eyes; I don’t think I could watch this man put his mouth on me right now. I leaned back on the couch as he brought his lips to my wrist. He pressed them gently on the inside of my wrist and goosebumps rose on my entire arm. I sucked in a breath when his fangs pierced the skin and the familiar stinging sensation sprouted from his mouth. Then it faded to tingling warmth. The feeling felt good as he drank. I had to focus on my breathing so I wouldn’t focus on other things. The tingles were hitting every inch of me. I took a shaky breath and he let me go. The tingles slowly fading. He let me bring my wrist back and sighed.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I opened my eyes, smiling at him, through the little buzz I was feeling. I stood. “Let me just get a band aid,” I quickly went to the bathroom and shut the door. I leaned against it and tried to calm my heart down. It never felt like that with my last client. Maybe similar, but something was different about that. It was more intense. I grabbed some band aids and stuck it on the small marks now on my wrist. I splashed some hot water on my face and went back out. Henry had gone into the kitchen and was getting a glass out. I sat at the island.

“How about some water?” Henry asked me. I nodded as he filled the glass and set it in front of me.

“Thank you.” I took a drink.

“Thank you. Make sure you drink all of that.” I nodded.

“I will. I’ve done this before, remember.” He nodded.

“But still, drink it and eat a good dinner tonight.” I grinned at him, his instructing me making me feel good.

“I will.” I gave him a firm nod and he laughed. I took another drink.

“I wanted to ask you, how do you feel about dogs?”

“Oh, I love them. You have one right?”

“Yes, Kal’s my best friend.” I smiled.

“You should’ve brought him here!”

“Next time.” He promised. He took a breath to speak, but then his phone rang. He rolled his eyes. “Hang on,” I crossed my arms on the counter and rested my chin on them, watching him as his face changed as whoever it was spoke. “Alright, fine. Are you sure I can’t-“ He hmmed, forehead scrunched. “Okay, give me an hour.” He hung up and I raised my eyebrows. “It was Penny, I’ve got to go to this meeting-“

“For The Witcher?” I chuckled and his forehead relaxed again as he smiled a little. “It’s okay. You helped out a lot already.” He walked over to me and kissed my cheek, squeezing one of my shoulders as he did.

“Thank you, I’ll call you soon.” He walked out and I locked the door behind him. I went back to my water and felt my eyes start to droop. I always got sleepy after feeding. I took a long drink and brought the rest to my bedroom. I got in my blankets and it didn’t take long for me to close my eyes.

The bright morning sun shined in through my windows, casting a lovely light on Henry’s curls and baby blues as he worked his way down naked torso. I bit my lip, my hands already fisted in the sheets. His beard tickled my stomach and I let out a giggle. He kissed just under my belly button and I whimpered.

“Please, Henry.” My voice was a pathetic whisper, and he smiled into my skin, dragging his teeth gently over it.

“We’re using please, now are we? How desperate are you?” I moaned out at his words. His low tone hitting me in my core.

“Please,” Suddenly his hands came from under my legs, his shoulders pressed against the back of my thighs, head just above where I need him most.

“I do love a girl with manners.” The palms of his hands pressed my stomach down so I couldn’t move. Then his open mouth landed on my pussy. I squirmed and moaned at the sensation. His lips, his tongue. I could barely keep track of what they were doing it felt so good. My breaths were ragged when I wasn’t moaning. My hands tangled into his hair and his beard tickled my thighs. “So, good, baby.” He mumbled and the air sent chills through my body. He looked up at me, his blue eyes dark. He pressed the flat of his tongue on my slit and dragged it up and I gasped, squirming under his grip. I could hear his mouth on me and the sounds only added to the pleasure. God, it felt like I was coming undone.

“Oh god, Henry.” I could feel it coming, I was close. I shut my eyes. “I’m gonna-“

I shot up in my bed, but it wasn’t morning, the sun was going down. There wasn’t a large blue eyed man under my sheets either. I slumped over, the back of my neck sweaty and my breathing was hard. I pressed a hand to my forehead, eyes wide. One feeding and he was already in my dreams?

“Fuck.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x oc #the witcher #fanfiction #june writes stuff #blood bound #vampire anime #vampire

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sunnybeas · 4 years

Text

saints in chains

Chapter One of Saints In Chains- wait out the plastic weather

summary: Gavin meets Connor's little brother and finds out love at first sight is real

cross posted on ao3

The first time Gavin Reed sees the RK900 he doesn’t have time to really look at him. It is an active crime scene that’s taking up the entire street and Gavin holes himself behind the barricade with Chen at his side. Teeth grit and hand sweating as he gripped his handgun, he only sees a white blur stride by and hoist itself over the barricade.

A curse is halfway out of his mouth because of course a civilian would get cocky and bolt but no- the damn thing rips the door off the hinges of a car and surges forward. And Gavin is sitting there, mouth open, in full view of the shooter. He drops down beside Chen again, who is equally as fucking gob smacked.

“Did you fucking see that?” Gavin demanded.

“Of course, I did! Did Fowler hire a fucking Terminator? What was that?” she asked back, rolling to her knees to peek over the car again.

Gavin scooted in next to her, eyes squinted. He felt like an idiot, gawking at the figure in white sprinting forward, car door acting as a shield and taking all the spray. It takes a leap and absolutely bodies the shooter, tossing the car door aside like a dinner plate. Its hand crunches the AK in its hand, and it misfires in the shooter’s hand. The fucker screams as the figure lifts him and slams him onto the concrete, knee on his back, hands pinned there securely.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit- “Gavin chanted, because the figure looks up and he’s half fucking sure he recognizes Connor’s smug little face. It’s different, though, and Gavin can’t quite pinpoint how because of the distance.

“Well done, see, I knew he’d do well.”

And that- that’s Connor’s peppy voice from behind him. Frowning, Gavin spins on his heel.

“What the fuck is happening here?” He asked, sharply.

Connor and Anderson were dressed all up in their vests. Gavin snorted at the sight of Connor in his. He had seen the android take more bullets than he could count. Had almost put one in him more than a few times.

The LED in Connor’s temple spins yellow briefly. “He has minor abrasions. Otherwise a near perfect introduction.” He smiled, too fucking bright and cheerful for Gavin, who was getting sick just looking at him.

“Con, dear, sweetheart, love, please make sense. What was that?” Chen finally cut in.

“My brother.” Connor replied simply, punctuating it with that dopey smile of his. His big ole doe eyes lifted past them and he rocked on his heels before starting forward.

Gavin turned to follow when he caught sight of their blur. And holy fuck. Holy shit, Gavin didn’t think they built androids like that. Connor’s ‘brother’ was a massive specimen, towering over the shooter, eyeing the suspect wearily with eyes so pale they may as well have been white.

It takes Gavin about five seconds to deduce that this thing, this android, was basically Connor on steroids. If that were something they could do, anyway. He was taller, a good foot or so, and he was fucking jacked, his arms thicker, shoulders broader. He looked scary as shit, his jaw sharper, wider, his eyes set in deeper and looking down at them all with those dead looking eyes.

He was hot. Like really, insanely, one of the hottest things Gavin had ever seen. And he hadn’t even looked his way yet. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. It. Whatever.

“Holy shit, just take a picture for your spank bank, creep.” Tina scoffed, elbowing him sharply.

“Chen, shut the fuck up.” Gavin hissed, his neck and ears burning at being caught checking out a fucking android. One with Connor’s face too.

The statement seemed to gain the android’s attention, though, because he looked up from Connor and stared directly at Gavin. Gavin couldn’t get a read on him, couldn’t eek the slightest bit of emotion from the thing’s blank ass face. His pale eyes flickered briefly over Gavin, almost sizing him up. Head tilted, eyes half lidded, the android regarded him for more than a few seconds. It was deliberate. Was it trying to intimidate him?

“RK?” Connor’s voice broke through and the android looked away from Gavin, finally, to return his attention to Connor.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Gavin cursed, turning on his heel to Chen. “Come on, we don’t need to be here anymore. Thing one n’ two got it.”

They started back to Chen’s patrol car. She widened her stride to keep up with how fast Gavin was walking.

Chen tossed her head back to laugh. “Look at you, lil’ Gavin Reed running scared from some sexy robot. Gav, did you see his pecs? Or his arms? Why did they give an android an ass that- “?

Gavin groaned. “I fucking saw! Cyberlife’s a bunch of fucking perverts. Holy shit, Tina.” He scrubbed his face with his hand.

Tina clambered into the driver’s seat, grinning. “He better be at the station.”

And fuck- Gavin hadn’t even considered that.

As luck would have it, God fucking hated Gavin Reed. He had just settled into his desk when Connor came striding in, Anderson at his side and leading their perp and the fucking Iron Giant trailing behind. Immediately Gavin looked towards Chen, who was practically vibrating in her seat. She shot him a grin and a wink before standing up from her seat.

Anderson spoke lowly to Connor before nodding and taking the perp to the back. Which left Connor standing there with his grumpy looking twin. Chen chose this moment to strike.

“Hey, Connor, who’s this?” She asked.

Connor beamed, clearly tickled fucking pink that someone was taking an interest in his little pet project. He lifted a hand and gestured to the android beside him. “This is RK, my little brother. He moved here and Fowler offered him a position. Today was his trial. I’m fairly sure he exceeded Fowler’s expectations.” Connor reported, absolutely glowing with pride.

Gavin snorted at his desk. Little? Little wasn’t a word to describe that ‘droid.

“I’m Tina Chen, nice to meet you.” Chen offered her hand, smiling politely in that way of hers. Tina brought out the good in everyone.

The android hesitated, studying her hand before taking it and shaking it carefully. “Nice to meet you, Officer Chen.” And oh- his voice was Connor’s but pitched lower.

It sounded surprisingly good. Fuck. Gavin hated him. Hated his pretty, stupid face.

“Gav, come say hi to the new guy!” Chen called, turning to face him with a wide, smug smile on her face.

Gavin decided he hated her too. No more coffee runs or donuts for her. She was dead to him.

“I’m good.” He said, instead.

Connor frowned. The big guy didn’t do anything, just stared. Shit.

“RK and Hank are going to be interrogating the shooter. I’ll be reviewing the footage if anyone has any need for me.” Connor informed Tina.

“Gavin and I can help with that!” Tina blurted out.

Connor blinked, clearly surprised. “You want to help me?” His eyes flickered uncertainly to Gavin, who was making a face, his middle finger up and pointed to Connor.

“I want to see that asshole getting his up close and personal.” Tina said. “Reed won’t admit it, but he does too.”

Gavin again held his middle finger up, though neither Connor or Tina were looking his way. He, instead, caught the attention of RK. And Gavin swore, he fucking swore, he saw the flicker of a smile on his face.

“Okay, that’s fine then.” Connor was still uncertain, but Tina was insistent.

He wasn’t sure why until they were seated all together, huddled up in front of the screen.

Seeing it from afar had been one thing but holy shit, seeing RK900 in action up close was a whole different experience.

“Holy shit.” Gavin rasped out, watching as he ripped the car door with his bar hands from the hinges. He sat tall in his seat.

RK hadn’t stopped, hadn’t faltered once as the shooter had let loose a barrage. He had just driven forward, expression drawn, brow furrowed. And then he had crushed the barrel of the gun like it were made of cheap plastic, ignoring the blast of the misfire and splatter of thirium on his open palm. He lifted the perp up by the coat.

“God, I wish that were me.” Gavin murmured, sinking into his seat. His eyes tracked how fluidly RK moved.

Tina choked out a laugh from beside him. “You’re a fucking mess.”

Connor frowned, so severely that his stupid forehead dented in from the faux wrinkles.

“Please don’t objectify RK in front of me.” He requested, weakly.

“Connor, where the fuck have you been hiding my teenage wet dream from?” Gavin demanded, emboldened by RK’s absence.

Connor’s head bowed and he rubbed at his temples needlessly.

“Gavin, that’s his baby brother!” Tina chided, smacking at his arm, though she wore a broad grin on her lips. She loved Gavin when he was in a mood like this.

“Baby brother my fucking ass, look at him- “

“You wish he were fucking- “

“I am literally begging you to stop.” Connor interjected.

“Listen, I’m trying to do some begging myself here, Connor, so help me out here.” Gavin continued.

Connor let out a pained groan and dropped his head completely into his palms in the same moment Tina let out a cackling laugh, her head tossed back.

“You’re intolerable.” Connor accused, shaking his head as he stood up. “I brought this for research purposes, and you’ve ruined it.”

“Wish your brother would ruin me.” Gavin mumbled.

Connor paused, his LED blipping red before he promptly turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the room. In his absence, the two dissolved into laughter.

“I think you broke him this time. Anderson is gonna be on your ass for traumatizing his boyfriend.” Tina snorted, wiping tears from her eyes.

Gavin reached forward and rolled the vid back, taking extra care to watch how RK had lifted the man with absolutely no effort. Oh. This might become a problem.

“If you’re done, Fowler wants to speak to you.” Connor poked his head around through the door again, frowning sourly at the screen and where it had paused.

Gavin sighed and forced himself to his feet. He tossed the remote Chen’s way.

“It’s not going to be as much fun without you.” She complained.

“Just enjoy the eye candy, Chen.” Gavin shrugged, following Connor down the hall.

Just looking at Connor, the differences between he and his younger counterpart were drastic. Their faces were eerily similar but RK’s had a sharpness where Connor’s was soft. Connor was clearly meant to assimilate where RK looked the complete opposite. Like he was meant to be identified as an android. What had he been made for that he was built that mean looking?

Hands shoved into his pockets; Gavin turned to the door of Fowler’s office. Knocking twice, he stepped in. Directly into the personal space of RK, who did not budge even as Gavin knocked his shoulder clumsily into his mid arm. And Christ on a fucking cracker, Gavin’s head barely measured to his shoulder. He swallowed hard.

“Reed, you meet RK yet?” Fowler asked, shifting in his seat just slightly to face him.

“Uh, sort of.” He took a long step back, hands curling to fists in his jacket pocket.

“Well, better get the introductions out now. He’s your new partner.” He paused, eyes squinting up at Gavin, waiting for the explosion.

RK looked down, extended his hand which was going to swallow Gavin’s in it. Even his hands were built big. Vaguely, Gavin wondered how they would feel-

“It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m RK.”

Gavin had been right before. This was going to be a big fucking problem.

#reed900 #rk900 #gavin900 #gavin reed #detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor

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makeyourchoices · 4 years

Note

Some hcs with Ace, Dwight, and Yui with a killer s/o? Thanks

You got it!!

Ace, Dwight, and Yui with a Killer s/o

Ace

As confident as Ace is, he truly has… no idea how this happened. Sure, he’s not complaining by any means, but that doesn’t mean he’s not kept up at night wondering how this could even happen.

Even so, he simply went with the flow and didn’t want to worry about it too much. He found you attractive and easy enough to talk to when you hadn’t been hunting him down in a trial, so why not see where this goes?

It gets to the point that he’ll crack jokes even during trials. If you give him the hatch he won’t let you live it down later, but he doesn’t get angry if you don’t either.

It’s a toss up how he reacts when you down him. Either he’ll struggle as normal to give you a run for your money, or despite the pain he’ll flirt. The first time he did that, it was enough to make you hesitate and let him get away.

You didn’t hear the end of that one until after the next trial, when he wound up getting scarified.

Despite how it sounds, your relationship is far from a toxic one. You hate to have to hunt him in trials even with the Entity’s tendrils blinding your mind in the chase, but he understands you have no choice. He’s a clever man, and he won’t hold grudges on you for it.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t often ask for you to make up for it in some way, a smug little smirk on the edges of his lips.

Please pamper this man for a little bit, those hooks are brutal.

As often as he finds decent items in trials, he also likes to leave them for you if you let him escape. Sure, he knows that you have no use for them, but it’s the sentiment that counts right?

He’ll still act the cool, confident type with you. Sure, you could definitely kick his ass and he knows it, but he’s not afraid of you anymore. Dating him opened the door for him to act cocky even when he really shouldn’t be. Part of his charm though, really.

Dwight

Dwight was terrified of you, to put it nicely. Even outside of trials he couldn’t help but be a little put off at first. What did a killer want with him? Why were you so interested in him?

Sure, he grew into the role of blending in and grew to be a little worried about being completely in the spotlight at some point - but it was even worse when the spotlight was a killer’s.

To get with him as a killer, you might have to be a bit more… gentle. Of course that’s not to say you can’t do your job, but it’d be pretty hard to get him to stay calm and listen to your confession if he’s terrified.

The first time you give him the hatch, he’s still a bit spooked but he starts to put things together a bit. Killers didn’t just give survivors an escape in a majority of cases, so why did you?

He’d get curious. Even when he sought you out to ask you why after the trial, he’d be psyching himself out a bit. Curiosity killed the cat, he reminds himself.

Just be calm with him and explain the situation. If you beat around the bush too much you’d quickly come to realize he was just getting confused - once you were blunt with him, it was like a light bulb lit up.

A very hot light bulb. The blush on his face would be very obvious even as he tried to avert his gaze in hopes that you wouldn’t notice in the darkness of your realm. Oh, you noticed though. It was cute.

From there, if he noticed you trying to be careful with him in trials, he’d feel a bit… guilty. Sure, he appreciates not getting a hook shoved through his chest, but what was the cost to you? He highly doubted the Entity would be kind to you, if you “slacked off” for too long. So, he comforts you. He tells you it’ll be okay, and you can do as you need to.

He still gets the hatch pretty often, and you try to at least get the other three before you have to make that decision. If you manage to, you tend to spare him.

At some point, he eventually feels very safe with you despite you being a killer. Maybe it’s because you’re a killer and so much more powerful than he could ever be that he feels so safe and secure? Don’t be surprised if he visits as often as he can when you’re both free from trials.

Yui

Yui is tough. She certainly didn’t fear you outside of trials, and the “fear” she felt during trials, for lack of a better word, was better labeled as an intense surge of adrenaline to escape and to survive. The intensity that glinted in her eyes even as she was hooked was unmatched. Despite the pain, she had no qualms in showing just how tough she could be.

Perhaps that’s even what drew you in. One day, you found her wandering the fog. She had managed to find your realm, though she didn’t seem all that phased. When she saw you, she gave you a casual wave - the look in her eyes was still very much intense, but you could tell she didn’t hold any malice towards you. That was just who she was.

Of course, you invited her inside, even if it was just one of the shacks. The fog could be very cold, and without the adrenaline pumping through her veins it would get to her very easy, you knew. Surprisingly, she showed no hesitation in accepting the invite.

You two began to spend more time together, then. Only once in a while at first, but she eventually showed up more and more. You grew to enjoy each other’s company, and she often told you about the past whenever you asked. Your acceptance of her past hobbies and passions meant a lot to her.

It was actually her who confessed to you. She was straight to the point, and even during such an intimate moment, no fear showed in her eyes. No worry. Just a genuine sincerity that was so very her.

Of course, you accepted. Nothing changed between you two during trials - you tried to spare her, but her stubborn nature refused. If you caught up to her, you would continue just as you were meant to. If she escaped fair and square, that would be the only way she would escape. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Even after trials where she was sacrificed, she would show up back in your realm as if nothing had happened. The first time you had been petrified that she wouldn’t despite what she had told you - so when she did, your heart swelled with so much love and admiration. Honestly? She finds it very cute of you.

#dbd #dbd imagines #Ace Visconti #Dwight Fairfield #yui kimura #anon

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thesvenqueen · 4 years

Text

Jurassic Park

Rating: M (welp) Pairing: Kristanna Also on AO3

Previous Chapters ( One Two Three Four )

Note(s): we’ve finally made it to the beginning of it all...bout damn time lmao

{Chapter 5}

Kids.

Why the hell were there kids here?

After that entire conversation they’d had, the voiced concerns and unsureness of the park itself, the underlying potential dangers Kristoff had started to think the scientists hadn’t even considered; Dr. Hammond had brought kids here.

“Grandpa!!”

His own grandkids no less.

They hugged the doctor, tackling him to the ground. Kristoff just watched but felt Anna squeeze his hand. He looked down to see her watching the scene, a soft smile on her lips.

“Don’t be getting ideas.” He joked, giving her his sideways grin that he knew she loved.

She rolled her eyes, bumping her hip into him. “I’m not.”

But Kristoff knew that was a lie. Could see it in her eyes when she peeked up at him through her lashes. It was a matter of time before she brought up the subject, he knew it too, sooner rather than later judging from the look she was giving the kids.

“Oh, Dr. Arendelle, come come.” Dr. Hammond called, motioning over to the kids. “These are my grandkids, Olaf & Alexis.”

“Grandpa, I’ve told you, it’s just Lex!” The teen teased.

“Oh, pardon me.” Dr. Hammond exclaimed, feigning hurt. “How could I forget.”

Anna had beamed at them, greeting them with her winning smile. She knelt down to Olaf, pointing at his shirt. Kristoff couldn’t make out what was on it, but whatever Anna had said about it had made Olaf gape at her.

She was always so good with kids, a complete natural. He couldn’t lie either at the fact that seeing her interacting with children always warmed his heart, made him smile at how every child just seemed to love her instantly.

But him, good with kids? God, not even close.

Kristoff stood at the bottom of the steps, now watching as Olaf had begun to converse with his Grandfather while Anna had begun slowly making her way to the jeep, Lex following close behind. The boy was going a mile a minute about the helicopter ride with Dr. Hammond nodding as he listened.

“I don’t know how to feel about this.”

Kristoff looked over as Sven came to stand beside him, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Sven looked just as annoyed as Kristoff felt, “About what?”

Kristoff had been surprised when Sven had voiced the same unease about the park during lunch. In fact, Sven had been the one to begin the conversation in the first place. Talking again about his theory of ‘life finds away’, how Dr. Hammond could not truly think he could control these creatures as efficiently as he claimed.

Anna had chimed in soon after, agreeing with Sven that there were way too many unknown factors involved, so many that she was sure the doctor’s team hadn’t considered. When Dr. Hammond had looked to him, smiling that same confident smile in hopes he’d side with him, it he had hesitated.

But once he felt Anna’s hand on his thigh, a gentle squeeze of reassurance, he confidently agreed with everyone else, much to Dr. Hammond’s dismay.

“I don't believe it.” He had exclaimed in disbelief, shaking his head, “I expected you to come down here and defend me from these characters and the only one I've got on my side is the bloodsucking lawyer!?”

Now, it seemed, Sven thought they were on the same level. Since they were on the same side, both understanding where the other stood on the situation, it was enough for friendly conversations.

Far from it really.

Kristoff still thought he was far too cocky for his own good and most definitely needed to keep his hands off his wife but, he wasn’t an idiot by any means.

Least he had more sense than the lawyer had. He, on the other hand, had been ready to sign the papers and sell tickets the moment they had seen the first dinosaur.

Sven looked at him, “He knows this park is on a trial run, knows there are still risks. I mean, shit, we just gave him an essay’s worth of issues and concerns not even ten minutes ago. Now, before the park can even be given a seal of approval, he brings kids here?”

Kristoff sighed, finding himself agreeing with Sven. Again.

It was an odd feeling.

And he hated it.

“Yeah, not sure that was the smartest move.” Kristoff said, “Even before our little lunch discussion, he’s still risking it before the park has been deemed safe.”

“Doesn’t make sense to me.” Sven said, shaking his head as Dr. Hammond made his way to them.

“Have a heart gentlemen.” Dr. Hammond whispered. “They’re parents are getting a divorce.”

“And how is that our problem?” Sven murmured.

Dr. Hammond frowned, “They’re finalizing everything this weekend. The kids needed a diversion from it all, so I figured now was a good time as any to get them away. Not to mention, we did need to test the park on our target audience.”

“Target audience or not doctor, I’m not sure--”

“I’ll see you when you return!” Dr. Hammond called, ignoring Sven as he started making his way back up into the building.

“You’re not coming?” Kristoff questioned.

“Oh no, I’m going to be manning from the control room. Keeping an eye on things, making sure everything runs smoothly. You all have fun!”

Kristoff rolled his eyes, turning back around and nearly jumped when he found himself face to face with the youngest boy. What was his name again? Olaf was it?

“Hi!”

“Uh…” Kristoff said, looking the small boy up and down. He couldn’t be much older than 10, his new front teeth sticking out ever so slightly and his hair sticking every which way but the same direction. He had a t-shirt with a cartoon image of a T-rex on it and Kristoff had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to be good. “Hi?”

“I read your book!” Olaf said enthusiastically, standing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

His gut feeling was right.

“Oh uh...that’s great kid.” Kristoff said, faking a small smile and moving past him to head towards the rear jeep where Anna was still standing talking to the granddaughter at the hood of the car. He caught her eye, a devilish grin on her face, a telling sign she was up to absolutely nothing good.

“Do you really think dinosaurs turned into birds?” Kristoff flinched a little to hear Olaf’s voice from beside him. “And that's where all the dinosaurs went?”

Kristoff glared at the kid and moved to open the back door of the jeep. “Well, uh,” He climbed in, scooting into the seat. “A few species may have…” He looked up to see Olaf standing at the door expectedly, his eyes wide and wearing his toothy smile. “Evolved along those lines.” Kristoff finished.

They looked at each other for a moment, before Olaf motioned with his head for him to scoot over.

Oh for the love of God.

He began to scoot over, Olaf following when an automated voice boomed through the speakers of the jeep.

“Two to four passengers to a car, please. Children under ten must be accompanied by an adult.”

Kristoff looked back over at Olaf, his toothy smile still just as big. He looked out the other jeep, a door just then slamming shut. The lawyer had just climbed into the front seat, Kristoff spying the man opening his briefcase.

“So, Olaf right?” Kristoff asked, not taking his eyes off the car.

“Uh huh?”

“Which jeep are you riding in?”

“Whichever one you’re in, sir.”

That gave Kristoff an idea.

He looked at Olaf from the corner of his eye and then opened the back door once more. He climbed out, hesitating just enough to make sure the kid was following. As he walked a few steps, he peaked over his shoulder to see Olaf climbing out the car & jumping down to the ground.

Kristoff grinned.

He then began making his way to the other jeep.

“Because they sure don't look like birds to me.” Olaf continued, struggling to keep up with Kristoff’s long strides. “I heard a meteor hit the earth, right, and made like this one hundred mile crater,” he exclaimed, stretching his arms out in emphasis,“I think in someplace down in Mexico--”

Kristoff glanced down at the kid. He almost felt bad.

Almost.

Kristoff grabbed the handle to the back door of the front jeep, opened it and stood aside. He looked to Olaf, smiled and gestured for him to climb in.

“Oh, thanks!” as expected, Olaf climbed right on in and turned to look at Kristoff, “Like I was saying this crater--” And Kristoff slammed the door shut. Even with the door closed, Kristoff could still hear the kid going on and on about the other theories he’d read. He peered over and saw the lawyer glaring at him in the side mirror.

Smiling to himself, he turned to head back to the other car when he found himself now facing Lex. She was 13, hair braided down her back and smiling awkwardly up at him as she twisted the end of her said braid in her fingers.

“Um, she said.” She said, pointing to the rear jeep behind her, “I should ride with you because it would be good for you.”

Kristoff followed where the girl was pointing, only to see a blushing and giggling Anna in the front seat.

He glared at her, which only made her giggle more and look away.

“Yeah, well, she thinks a lot of things.” Kristoff said and brushed past Lex to head to car.

He knew what she was doing. That little minx. He watched her as he made his way to the jeep, holding back more giggles as she bit her lip and avoided his gaze. From the looks of it too, she was sitting alone.

They’d have the car all to themselves.

Perfect.

“Good for me, huh?” Kristoff huffed, climbing into the driver seat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anna said, looking at him from the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dash. If he didn’t know any better, it was like they were back in his truck. She always propped her feet on his dash, smiling sweetly at him as she did so. He’d been annoyed the first time, telling her so and he knew she kept doing it to annoy him. Now though, seeing her laid back, feet propped up in his truck, her arm hanging out the window as she sung along to some song on the radio; it was his favorite view.

And so was this current one.

God, if they didn’t have to go on this tour, he’d be having his way with her once more back in their hotel room.

Kristoff couldn’t help but smile at her, poking her in the side and earning himself a giggle. “Yeah, I bet you don’t.” he said, placing his arms on the center console so he could lean towards her, “Any other bright ideas for what’s ‘good for me’?”

Anna hummed, tapping her chin as she pretended to think, “I could think of a few other things.”

“Oh yeah?” Kristoff murmured, leaning ever closer, his nose just barely brushing hers. “Like what?”

Anna giggled then, pulling gently on the collar of his shirt, “You want me to tell you?”

“I’d rather you show me.” he said, winking at her. She giggled again, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and he closed his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her.

“I’d like to not be shown whatever it is, thank you.”

The pair jumped at Sven’s voice from behind them, Kristoff cursing as his head hit the ceiling. He groaned in annoyance as he leaned back into the driver seat, looking in the rearview mirror as he rubbed the top of his head.

He watched Sven grimace slightly, mutter an apology and lean back in his seat.

So much for a jeep to themselves.

Kristoff looked over at Anna who was blushing so red it nearly matched her hair. She had one of her plaited braids over her eyes and was slowly moving down in her seat.

A cough came through the speakers of the car and Kristoff looked to the center of the dashboard to see a screen sitting within. There were a few buttons along the left side, but on the screen was Dr. Hammond who was sitting in what looked to be the control room. It was then, Kristoff realized with a burn of embarrassment, that Sven wasn’t the only one that witnessed everything.

Fuck.

Kristoff pulled the sunglasses out of his shirt pocket as he looked out his window and slapped them on, knowing good and damn well it wouldn’t do anything to hide the rising blush on his cheeks but it was something at least.

“Well,” Came Dr. Hammond’s voice, echoing through the car speakers. “I think it’s time to start the tour, shall we?”

As Kristoff leaned back in the driver seat, the car jolted forward, signaling the start of the tour.

#kristanna #kristoff #anna #sven #jurassic park au #jessica writes #i got so tired looking at this chapter #just need the shit to finally hit the fan and oop we close now thank GOD #yes Olaf is the boy #lol im creative obvi

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tysonrunningfox · 4 years

Text

Two Night Stand: Part 5

Sometimes random things you dig up are what you write

00000

Masterpost (ao3 to come)

00000

Astrid stares at the mess in the bathroom for a moment, the door clicking shut behind her echoing in the damp space. She nudges a soaking towel into the corner by the tub and wrinkles her nose at the way it sogs her sock.

The stolen plunger is still in the middle of the room and she picks it up with hesitant fingertips and sets it by the thankfully functioning toilet.

It’s a testament to how far their conversation just devolved that she can’t even focus on the fact that she just dealt mass property damage in the pursuit of breaking, entering, and using a stranger’s toilet.

She bends down to pull her damp sock off and catches her reflection in the mirror over the sink.

Hiccup is gross. Of course. All guys would want nothing more than a striptease, that’s obvious, he didn’t need to tell her that. In fact, he just said a bunch of really obvious things and acted like it was brand new information. He forgot to remind her that it’s snowing though, so he left a base uncovered.

Base. Like a baseball sex metaphor type base.

Maybe there’s a reason aside from lack of birth control and women’s rights that people used to have a dozen kids to work the farm. How much is there really to do when you’re locked in with someone for a long time? And like Hiccup said, they already got high and made a pillow fort.

And critiqued each other sexual performance because apparently, they couldn’t even go twenty-four hours ignoring the fact that they did, in fact, have sex with each other.

She teeters, because she’s been standing here on one leg like an urban dwelling flamingo native to dysentery creek, halfway through taking her sock off, and when she catches her reflection again, she hates that she thinks Hiccup might have a point. It’s not really an attractive pose—not that she has to be sexy at all times, that’s stupid, and part of the women’s rights issue that means she will not be having twelve kids to work any farm—but it still makes her pause.

She shuffles over to the sink, drumming her fingertips on the edge of the porcelain and staring at her reflection like it knows something she doesn’t. Are you there mirror-Astrid? It’s me, Astrid, you’re currently in the bathroom mirror of the guy I attempted to have a one-night stand with but then I got snowed in and it’s a whole thing, laws have been broken, I critiqued his sex-technique, mirror-wisdom would be appreciated.

Mirror-Astrid would shrug, if she weren’t dependent on real world motion to bend light, and the twinkle in her eye says something like ‘well, it would look hotter if you unbuttoned that oversized flannel more slowly while maintaining eye contact.’

Mirror-Astrid is the slut. Maybe she’s been the slut this whole time.

Maybe she has a point.

She bites her lip, reaching for the top button of her shirt and popping it open slowly, cocking her hip to one side.

And again, they’ve already gotten high and made a pillow fort and broke and entered and committed plunger-themed larceny. What else is there to do, really? She was right this morning, she cannot un-sex him, but having sex with him twice, well…they’ve already done it once.

And it’s cold outside, if the furnace goes out they might have to generate body heat.

They should practice, maybe.

Ok, if the furnace were going to go out, it probably would have happened already, but it’s a secondary argument. If she needs it. He is a guy, and he didn’t have any problem getting interested in having sex with her last night.

She fusses with her hair, pressing her bangs down against her forehead and then shoving them to the side when they don’t stay down. It’s fine, her hair doesn’t matter, this is not a seduction, it’s a scientific endeavor.

That’s it. It’s an experiment.

“Hey Hiccup,” she walks normally into the living room. Or she tries to walk normally. Usually, when she walks normally, she’s not thinking about walking normally, but nothing is usual about this situation so she’s doing her best.

“What did you do to my shower?” He asks without looking up from his laptop and she perches on the back of the couch above his shoulder, trying and failing to soften her glare, even though she wants something from him.

“Nothing.” She sighs, “I was thinking.”

“That’s always dangerous.”

“You know what? Never mind, it’s stupid.” She stands back up, glad that his personality just saved her from sounding stupid, for once.

“No, sorry,” he closes his laptop and looks up at her upside down, head on the back of the couch, hair flopping away from eyes that look greener considering what she’s about to say, “stupid’s my favorite. What’s up?”

“I was just thinking,” she pauses, waiting for him to interrupt again, but sadly, he appears to have learned his lesson, at least momentarily, “so the hypothesis of our conversation is that a frank conversation with a mutual interest towards self-improvement would make us better lovers.”

“Oh, so you can pull it off?”

“Yes.” She crosses her arms and leans on the couch again, “or no, it’s—I don’t think anyone can really pull it off, it’s kind of an awful word, but—”

“Are you back for more?” He raises an eyebrow, and the expression is an understanding of an inside joke, like all their jokes aren’t inside jokes, considering the weather.

He doesn’t mean it and it makes her blush.

“Yes.” She stares him down, direct like she was chatting with him. Asking the clear question.

“Ok, hmm, you were largely a very adequate lover, but I’m sure there are some minutiae I could help you finesse for a future time with someone else—”

“I think we should have sex again. For science.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and feels it sticking out. But this isn’t a seduction, it’s the intro to a lab class. Today, the lesson is practical. Hands on. Real-world applicable. “Keep the lines of communication open, put some of what we just talked about into practice.”

“I know that supposedly, all I need is friction, but I’m not sure I could take your well-intentioned critiques while trying to perform.” He rolls his eyes, not taking her seriously, and she lets her hands drift back to the buttons on her shirt, letting her eyes bore into his as she pops the next one loose.

His eyes flick down. He licks his lips. The way he’s looking at her is almost worth how silly she feels and she makes a note in her mental, sexual lab notebook. It’s crisp and new, the blank paper feeling a little sexual under her mental pencil. It’s new too, fresh out of the package.

0.05mm lead. Fine tip. A precision instrument.

Ok, too far. Too far. But there’s something sexual about new paper and she’s just leaning into it right now.

“I’m just saying, before we trot out our miracle cure for sexual incompatibility, we should probably do some clinical trials. It’s only responsible.” She’s never seduced anyone before, especially not a one-night stand she ordered on the internet on the eve of a once in a century blizzard, but it feels good to speak medically again, even if it’s not a good metaphor.

Clinical trials take months. Years.

“I mean, we haven’t even nailed down stock options yet.” He’s nervous, and it’s infuriatingly obvious in his big green eyes, and it’s also infuriating, because he’s supposed to be a cocky dick that she literally ordered on the internet.

“A dry run can’t hurt anything, it’s just compiling more data,” she pops another button open and he bites his lip, setting his laptop aside.

“Well, not a dry run. Hopefully.” He smirks, half-honest, and she doesn’t want to know that he puts a smiley face on his oatmeal or that he’s worried about what she thinks of his leg, but she does, and she’s trying to make the best of it.

“In a normal sexual situation, there should be some lead up, but considering everything, it’s ok for you to just kiss me.” Her stomach twists at the creak in the floorboards when he stands up slowly, faking confidence behind the cracks she’s ignoring, because they make him an outlier she shouldn’t consider sampling.

And he’s silent. Bigger without words jostling his shoulders as his hand finds her waist, fingers bunching in her oversized shirt. And he looks at her, gaze a steady confirmation before he kisses her, knee nudging between hers as he guides her backwards.

“That’s good,” she pulls back enough to nod and he grins, too real again. “The knee thing.”

“Yeah?” He follows as she takes a couple more steps back towards the bedroom, “I thought it was suggestive—”

“Please don’t explain every move to me.” She kisses him, hands fisting in his collar.

“They’re very nuanced though, I want to make sure you understand.” His hand slides under her shirt, too warm against the small of her back. And his knee nudges between her legs again and she trips on the edge of the rug, stumbling back into the doorframe. “Shit, are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” she rolls her shoulder. Shake it off, Hofferson. “Walking backwards while kissing is fine in movies, not so great in real life.”

“Noted.” He follows her into the bedroom, where unfortunately the bed is unmade.

“Remember when I wanted to see your apartment?” She asks, half-expecting to need to explain, because nothing outside of the last day feels real, especially with the buzzing under her skin when she thinks about what’s about to happen.

“I had to put all my Bundy fan-club awards down the garbage disposal, of course I remember.” He jokes, his voice deeper, breathing husky on the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “I’m devastated.”

“Well, a girl likes a clean place. Makes you feel taken care of, I guess.” She grabs the clean fitted sheet from the basket in the corner and starts putting it on the mattress. “Also, women want to have sex with functional adults, a made bed is an easy first step.”

“That hasn’t been my experience.” He laughs and she rolls her eyes, tugging the sheet tight and tossing him the next layer.

“You’ve had a different demographic thus far.”

“No, I mean making a bed is like wrestling an eight-foot long, six-foot wide rectangular bear,” he throws the duvet over the flat sheet as she shoves the second pillow into its case, “might need a nap to rebuild strength and energy before the sex.”

“Lay down then,” she shoves his shoulder a little too hard, refusing to feel guilty when he falls back on the bed, propping himself on his elbows.

“Lights are on,” she refuses to let her voice shake, tilting her chin at the bulb above the bed as she pops open the next button of her shirt. He watches, eyes flicking between her face and chest as another button comes undone.

“You’re a quick study,” he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor before going for his belt.

“You too,” she compliments, unbuttoning her pants and pushing them down with an unnecessary sway in her hips, trying not to smile when he licks his lips, pupils wide.

She faces away from him, shrugging the shirt slowly off her shoulders, letting it fall against her heels. She unhooks her bra and bends forward, letting it fall off of her arms as she tugs her underwear down, bending at the waist and trying not to feel stupid or cold or slow as she steps out of them.

She looks over her shoulder at him, standing up at that glacial pace and turning to face him like an iceberg drifting past Greenland.

He’s breathing hard, skinny chest heaving above the boxer briefs that are thankfully the only thing he’s still wearing. His leg is on the floor and she’s not sure whether she’s supposed to look or not, so she keeps her focus on his face.

“Is that…” she cocks her hip, then regrets it, unsure where to put her hands. It’s cold. He’s staring. She wants to turn the lights off or to make a joke or to get under a blanket because it’s actually cold in here. He should keep his place warmer, probably, and she should tell him, but she just got naked the slowest she ever has and she needs his opinion on it, because nothing makes sense. “Is that more what you thinking of?”

“Yeah,” he nods, too fast, and she almost tells him off for being cute when they’re trying to be scientific, “that was—yeah. Good. You really took my point and um…yeah.”

“Honestly I just…moved slower—”

“Men are so stupid,” he sits up, waving his arms at her in something halfway summoning, “come here. Now. Please. That’s not an order, I just—you, wow—”

“So, lights on, strip slowly is a real thing?” She half jokes on her way to the bed, trying to frame how his eyes feel on her skin in terms of scientific understanding. The mutual pursuit of knowledge. Earnest commitment to research.

“Men are dumb.” He catches her waist with a long, warm arm and pulls her down into the bed, hovering over her as his lips latch onto her pulse-point, callused hand sweeping across her ribs.

“Apparently.” She moans when his thumb glances across her nipple and he leans up slightly to look at her face. “What?”

“Trying to discern real from faking it,” he teases, self-conscious, and her stomach twists at the still hand on her side that she so badly wants to be moving.

“It’s going to be easier to get me off if you’re trying to,” she nods at him, “instead of reacting to imagined criticism.”

“Oof,” he winces, scooting his hips away from her an inch, “that’s—while true, that’s also generally applicable to my failures as a person, which isn’t sexy to think about—”

“You’re not into being accidently insulted by people who just stripped for you?” She jokes, reaching up instinctually to rub the back of his neck, his shoulders. His ass, surprisingly taut under his boxers. And the lights are on and goosebumps prickle up her stomach.

“Accidentally?” He’s a little too soft, a little too meek, and she tugs him back down to her by his hair.

“Yes.” She kisses him, and she was honest earlier. He’s a good kisser, just how he’d be a good conversationalist if it weren’t being forced upon her as the only option. It’s give and take, it’s soft lips and the hard edge of teeth. It’s determination behind the acquiescence in his moan as his hand finds her breast and squeezes. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?” He kisses down her neck, taking his time like he hadn’t the night before, his fingers curling around her waist and pulling her against him, his thigh between hers. She hooks her leg around his hip and he groans into her neck, “that’s—”

“Not good?” She starts to move her leg but he catches her thigh above her knee, pressing it closer to his side.

“Very good.” He kisses her collarbone, her nipple, breathing hard against her sternum. “It’s like you want me closer,” he shudders when she drags her fingernails up his back, “good move. All good moves.”

“You too, this is good.” She reaches between them, fumbling under the waistband of his boxer briefs, “I don’t mind the stubble.” She groans when he drags his chin against her neck, kissing under her jaw. She grabs his length and he stiffens, forehead on her collarbone as his expected groan comes out as a whine. “What?”

“You’re very direct,” he catches her wrist with a firmness that makes her core twitch. “It’s—I like it, don’t get me wrong here, I’m a stupid, friction-obsessed man and that feels—you’re naked—and you—”

“It’s distracting,” she lets go, pulling her hand out of his boxers and letting it rest on her lower stomach, flirting with the juncture between her legs.

“Yes,” he kisses her, “and that’s not a bad thing, I’m just trying to focus.”

“On?” She flirts. She doesn’t have to, but she does. And he presses his leg against her core and his breath is hot against her neck and maybe talking is what sex has needed this entire time.

Talking and a quick-witted tongue on her chest, and long, callused fingers dipping between her legs. Soft, auburn hair tickling her neck as she arches under the contact.

“Don’t…don’t say anything about a dry run right now, I…will kill you.” She grips his shoulders, heel dragging down his short calf and back onto the bed as he almost gets it right, the sizzling contact just off epicenter.

“Wouldn’t make sense, anyway.” He kisses her neck, her cheek, his smirk like a brand against her skin as he swipes just past where he should.

“Just—up, ok? And to the right?” She doesn’t want to sound irritated, but it’s irritating to have things feel so good and almost great. He adjusts, over-adjusts really, and she reaches down to grab his hand and direct him, her fingers over his. “There, it’s just—like…”

“This?” He mimics her motion and she squints her eyes shut, her knees clenching on his hips as she nods. “Am I—I mean is this getting you to…where you need?” He’s awkward, and earnest, and arousal flares in her chest like an errant spark.

“I mean it takes a minute.” She gets out, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He smells like breaking and entering and a stupid high day in a pillow fort and she tries to focus on his fingers and how they’re trying to build style into the method she prescribed him.

They aren’t marching, they’re dancing, adding his own flair to steps she’d thought were set in stone.

And the lights are on, and he’s watching her like a gauge. Like something independent, instead of as a reflection of himself. And he kisses her lips and her cheek and a finger dips into her, long and agile but impatient too.

“Can I, I mean, I was under the impression that you were going to be critiquing—unless—”

“No critiques necessary,” she eeks out, biting her lip and pressing back against his touch. She feels spectated, but knowing why helps. He wants to see her. He wants to study her falling apart, like it’s a phenomenon, and the thought makes her toes curl as his pupils widen and he kisses her neck, her chest, looking up for her reaction between.

He slows down.

“Don’t go easy on me, it’s obviously not working—”

“It just takes a bit,” she snaps, grabbing his wrist and pressing his hand closer, “it’s slower, it takes a minute, it was…you were on the right track.”

“How long is the track?” He kisses her jaw and her neck, his hips nudging against hers. He groans when she wraps her leg back around his hips and she feels her own chest, letting the feeling bloom in her stomach.

“As long as it is.” She tries to be grumpy. It half works. He twitches when she grabs his length again, his groan shuddering against her neck as his hand falters.

Two long fingers dip inside of her then and she gasps, grabbing his upper arm.

“Is that—”

“Don’t stop.” She tries not to squirm, tries not to mess up the angle he has, what feels like the whole length of his fingers stroking against what she has to believe is her G-spot, more obvious than it ever has been, like banter is foreplay. Like his very presence is foreplay. Like this was inevitable. Like he is inevitable. “You found…”

He rubs it.

She regrets ever arguing with an engineer, double entendre implied.

“Is that?”

“Don’t stop,” she clenches his arm, probably too tight, but there’s no time to think about that because he’s kissing her, stubble and lip and tongue and hand doing that again and again and again.

“Might have to, if you keep that grip.” He kisses her cheek and she arches into it, because his hand is unraveling her like she’s grandma’s first sweater attempt and he’s warm and earnest.

She reaches down to touch herself and he gasps like it’s been ripped out of him. She bites her lip, leaning into the warmth, which yanks the cord to get his hand moving again, and then it’s here and they’re kissing and she feels her throat going hoarse before she knows he’s kissing her. And he doesn’t stop kissing, or petting, or holding.

And this is the worst idea she’s ever had.

“You didn’t want me to explain my moves,” he kisses her cheek. Her ear. His other hand cradles her neck so sweetly, tilting it as he kisses and where was this last night. Where was this when she needed him.

“Explain them.” She’d say he was wrong if she needs to. She’d say anything. His fingers are thrusting and she’s rubbing and she can’t breathe and every time she bucks up, his hips press back down against hers like a promise.

“Well, I’m um…” He pauses. She kisses his chin because it’s what she can reach. His rhythm falters and she bites her lip. “Well, I uh…think I found your G-spot.”

She nods.

He gets so red that she could light a fire on his face and she digs her heel into the back of his thigh.

“Is that a yes?”

She nods. She hits his shoulder with her free hand, doubling down as he strokes.

“We are communicating,” he kisses her, “I need a yes—”

“Yes,” she yelps, “more. Yes. Don’t stop. Asshole.” She squeaks out, and he’s kissing her. Everywhere. And his hand in her is moving, his thumb joining hers on her clit and when she opens her eyes, there’s something in his gaze.

He’s committed. He’s tuned in.

“You’ve told me, emphatically I might add,” he presses her clit for a second, suddenly at home in the mastery he’d only hoped for a second ago, “to not tell you about my moves.”

“You had moves you didn’t tell me about?” She struggles to sound indignant when he’s touching her like this. When he’s devoted like this. When he’s redeeming himself, sure with this kind of frantic, earnest energy.

It hits all at once.

She clings to his shoulders, crying out a bit too loud, glad for the empty apartment as his fingers stroke deep. And human. And he’s close and real and she’s trying not to remember that this is nothing, a fling, a one-night stand, an addendum to a one-time thing.

And he’s hard. And that was great. And she wants him.

She wants something. That’s easier.

She wants parts of him. Now.

“Was that..?” He kisses her forehead, his arms wrapping around her.

And he holds her, that’s a point in his favor. He held her last night and he holds her again and she wants to compliment him and for once, there’s no gateway.

“Nothing fake,” she says as a truth and a comfort and his hand finds her core again, perfectly lazy, hesitantly in something close to awe. “Condom. Now.”

“But my redemption—”

“On track,” she rolls to the side, digging in the bedside table for the reel of condoms she found earlier.

“But you—”

“I did,” she cups his face, pulling him close with an arm around his waist, “do you ever stop talking?”

“Not in living memory.” He touches that spot within her again and she shivers, ankles crossed behind his back. “Can I have some room to move?” He kisses the hollow of her throat, and his voice is relieved and she reaches to stroke him with a pleasure-lazy vengeance. “Astrid, I—”

“Hiccup,” she settles on his name, because she doesn’t know how else to communicate, even if it ends in him staring at her, through her, into her.

“For science,” he lines himself up and she bites her lip.

“It’s just good practice at this point.”

#two night stand au #modern au #hiccstrid fic #en-es-eff-double-eww #fuck #i need to get this onto ao3 bc this is sex #i can't even type eff eww see kay apparently #hiccstrid won't ever stop talking #here it was a good thing

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kittensinsocks24 · 5 years

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Spinel is one of the best examples of trauma and emotional parental figure abuse I’ve seen in media: an essay nobody asked for

As some may know, the television film special for Steven Universe, appropriately enough titled Steven Universe: The Movie premiered on Cartoon Network last night after being announced one year ago at SDCC. It was here where we would get our first glance at the villain of the film, who we would come to find out upon release is named Spinel.

I as well watched this stephen university moving picture show. And, despite my initial jokes about “this bendy-and-the-ink-machine lookin’ ass bubblegum bitch”, by the time the credits rolled I looked like a drowned cat, and had wept real tears of pain over this poor, poor strawberry shortcake clown infant. But why? Why was I openly sobbing over a literal one-braincell jester girl with the color palette of magenta printer ink? Then it hit me: Spinel is many things, but she is, most importantly, a great mirror. A mirror for me, and any and all other victims of being taken advantage of by somebody you trust, look up to, and admire, most often than not, parents.

TW: Spoilers below for Steven Universe: The Movie as well as discussion of abusive guardians, short mentions of physical abuse, and discussion of emotional manipulation

While it’s true that Spinel is self-proclaimed to have been Pink’s “best friend”, I feel that to a more obvious extent she is coded to have had a parental, one-sided-admiration relationship with Pink. This is confirmed to me by her obvious youthful, playful and childlike behavior in her original state, her clinginess to the person she respects, and most importantly, her unquestioning belief in Pink Diamond’s love and belief in her best interests, despite obvious signals otherwise to an outsider.

Let’s start at the beginning: Past Spinel is, self-described, “innocent, loving, .....stupid.” Spinel was created, metaphorically and physically, to keep Pink Diamond happy and entertained. Her default state was to naturally seek Pink’s approval, to earn her admiration and joy, similar to how most often a child’s first and prevailing desire is to earn their parent’s approval and love. Despite it not being Spinel’s fault that Pink decided to leave her there with the false hope of her returning, Spinel inherently blames her own naivety and desire for Pink’s love for her current predicament. Maybe if she hadn’t been so trusting, had questioned what Pink was making her do, she wouldn’t have been alone all those years. That’s a feeling I think most trauma victims have looking back at their past selves and childhood, something that further drew me to Spinel’s arc as a metaphor for such.

“And then she smiled, that’s what I’m after: the smile in her eyes, the sound of her laughter.”

This is a situation I believe most if not all children of emotionally and/or physically abusive parents can relate to. The tale of an abusive parental relationship often starts off with a parent either having a child they weren’t emotionally mature enough to raise, or, more relevant in Pink’s case, “having” a child for selfish reasons of personal entertainment, or to fill a void in their lives somehow, realizing only too late the independent personhood of their new “toy” outside of them.

I’ve seen some say that Spinel was understandably left behind because she is shown throughout to be “clingy” and “annoying”, but you know who else frequently has those traits? Children. Especially children before they emotionally mature like Spinel does after her revelation about Pink. I can assure you for a fact that I was a very annoying child. Does that make it right that my parent emotionally withdrew after I was no longer pleasing or entertaining to them? Does that make it right that they hit me? No.

When Pink first “had” Spinel it’s clear that she genuinely enjoyed her company. Most toxic relationships have this sort of “honeymoon” phase, a time before things were so bad that the victim will often wish to go back to, not unlike Spinel. Even though Pink’s later actions erase any goodwill towards Spinel and make it clear that even in joyful times she never really cared for her, as somebody scarred by trauma Spinel inherently longs to go back to these days even if Pink was not actually as happy or good as she remembers.

Later on, we as the audience, privy to more knowledge, can see that Pink has grown irritated/bored with Spinel. But Spinel, much like a child, isn’t aware of this. Spinel loves and is devoted to Pink, and if Pink is happy, she is happy for her. Her trust in Pink loving her back and unwavering confidence in her actions blinds her to what is coming next. “Every day was so much fun! At least.... that’s what I thought.....” She even is so confident that Pink loves her back that she is 100% positive Pink will take her along to Earth.

“I was so excited! A whole new place to play!”

Pink instructs Spinel to stay put in the garden and not follow her, lying straight to Spinel’s openly trusting face that this request is the start of a “game”. Spinel, again only seeking nothing but the love and admiration of her pseudo-parental figure/person she obviously admires, does so without question. In her mind so full of love and genuine belief that Pink would never do something wrong to her, she never even questions that this may not be a game, that Pink is seeking to dispose of her, or that Pink may not return. Spinel takes Pink fully at her word, and thus waits, and waits, for 6000 years.

At first, Spinel remains ever the optimist she always is, entrusting that despite the obvious gap in time that Pink, having her best interests in mind, will come back to love and play with her.

As literal years go by, we can see that despite her best efforts the wait for Pink to “come around” (physically, but also emotionally if we view this as a metaphor) has taken a toll on Spinel. She’s visibly weathered, with tired eyes and a weaker smile. However even though this is clearly not good for her she continues to believe that, yes, Pink does love her and would never hurt her! She will come back!

Worst of all, and something even more stinging when looked at through the lens of an abuse metaphor, is Spinel’s line during this part of the song:

“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?”

Annnnnnd this is where the waterworks really burst for me, folks. Spinel has begun questioning Pink’s actions, but her continued belief that Pink, again, would only do the best for her makes it so Spinel has begun, to some extent, to blame herself for how long it’s taken for Pink to return. Spinel feels perhaps she did something to displease Pink, that she messed up their “game” somehow, and this is why Pink has not returned to love her. She must strive and continue to be the best at this “game” or she is to blame for Pink not wanting to play with her. It’s a powerfully impactful line, but even worse for any child who went through a similar trial-and-error, self-deprecating process of trying to earn their parent’s unachievable love through grades, performance, or going above-and-beyond in any other sort of field.

Spinel is so desperate to finally get Pink’s love “back” that even though it is straining her mentally and (albeit to a lesser extent) physically, she will continue to do whatever Pink asked and even doubt herself and her ability to do things right if it means even a sliver of potential attention down the line.

Then, Spinel has a watershed moment most every child of an abusive guardian will have: she realizes she’s been abused. Through Steven’s broadcast, Spinel indirectly learns two things: 1, Pink is dead, has been dead, and was never intending on coming back for her even after all of Spinel’s silent years of devotion and trust, and 2, Pink proceeded to give others the love and attention Spinel could never earn despite all she did immediately after moving on and leaving Spinel for dead.

It is in this moment that Spinel not only physically “snaps” and changes into her much more threatening form seen in Act 1, but that she also breaks.

Spinel entertained and loved Pink for who knows how long before she disappeared, and even in her absence and the absence of love and affection continued to trust and care for her, and Pink instead simply chose to devote herself to new people, a new place, without them even having to earn her like Spinel did? It’s more than unfair, it rocks Spinel’s worldview.

Emotionally, the revelation that the person she adored, loved, trusted and respected and that she naturally looked up to not only did not care for her but actively chose to love others and ignore her despite all the mentally-taxing devotion Spinel gave her is more than she can bear.

“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you. And still it takes you ages to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there. Everyone’s gone on without you.”

Spinel transforms, a transformation symbolic of the venom and bile of her trauma. Despite her cocky attitude and speech about her “new look” upon initially showing up with her injector, Spinel notably is not proud of her new form. She views herself as broken.

Scarred beyond repair by Pink’s abandonment and actions. Something too messed up and warped to love, unworthy of affection and friendship.

Traumatized.

I’ve never met another person traumatized by parental abuse who didn’t also feel like they were too far gone. A monster, transformed and shaped into something horrible by their abuser’s actions.

“All that stuff’s easy for you to say! When you change, you change for the better! When I change, I change for the WORSE! I used to just be not good enough, not good enough for Pink,- but NOW, I’m not GOOD AT ALL!”

~ ~ ~

“Spinel, you’ve met The Diamonds before, right?”

“Yeah, but.... (notably hesitant) they’ve never seen me like this.”

With Pink gone, Spinel has nobody direct to confront about her traumas. Without any better coping mechanisms, Spinel’s only desire is to lash out at somebody, anybody for her pain. She specifically chooses Earth and The Crystal Gems for having been the objects of the affection Pink never gave her, despite not actually having a personal relationship with them.

“Y’know, I came here to take my anger out on a bunch of strangers, [...]”

When I first wisened up to the fact that what my parent did wasn’t normal, wasn’t something I should have gone through as an innocent child, I lashed out at any and everybody I felt was involved in some way. My father for never being around when it happened, never stopping her when it did, never getting her help, never calling CPS. My brother for never having to deal with her wrath, for always raising the bar with his good grades, making it feel harder and harder to earn the love I felt like I had to have.

Spinel’s maladaptive way of handling the situation is an all-too-common chapter in the life of the abused, and something that further strengthens the connection her arc has to real life people in similar situations.

When Steven confronts her that this isn’t the way to handle things, Spinel doesn’t see any other way. She doesn’t feel like she can trust anybody again, and doesn’t feel herself worthy of love. During “Found”, she’s noticeably hesitant and even resistive to Steven’s assurance that she’ll find somebody who truly does love her one day, too scarred by Pink’s deception to open herself up to the idea of healing.

Even when she does, it’s notably a delicate process. After turning off the injector, her own insecurity and trust issues due to her traumatic incident leads her, without any real evidence, to assume that Steven and the Gems value her as little as Pink did. She is both afraid of what she has become, again feeling she is too traumatized to be accepted and loved, and also afraid that they will leave her as easily and quickly as her abuser.

After failing to ever earn Pink’s love fully and the physical and emotional transformation her trauma has had on her, Spinel doesn’t genuinely believe anybody could ever want her company ever again.

“I’m the source of all your problems. Don’t pretend you want me here. What’s your plan for me, huh? Ya gonna put me somewhere? Gonna - LEAVE me somewhere? Gonna LEAVE ME ALONE?”

However, after the emotional catharsis of lashing out, sharing her traumas with Steven, and then spiraling into another emotional rage over what happened to her, Spinel, having begun to process her trauma, realizes that her hurting those only vaguely, tangentially related to her abuser and situation will do nothing to heal the pain inside her, and, more importantly, realizes that doing this is only pushing people away from her and failing to allow herself to open up to loving again.

And, of course, this is via a breakdown complete with agony-driven laughter, because Rebecca loves rendering me bald and taking an icepick to my similarly traumatized heart.

“(cracking with emotion)....What am I doing? Why do I want to hurt you so bad? I’m supposed to be a friend. .....I just want to be a friend.”

As low of a point as this is for Spinel emotionally, it shows that she has begun the slow but ultimately fulfilling process of healing. This new path continues in her next scene, where she opens herself up to The Diamonds with Steven’s coaxing, despite the person who spurned her having been a Diamond herself (this also easily could be viewed as a metaphor for opening yourself up to trusting mentoring relationships again and finding a healthy new parental relationship in someone either non-blood-related or in other members of your family).

In probably the most heart-wrenching scene of the movie for me, as The Diamonds reprise their song about opening their hearts up to a new member of their family (this also furthers my argument of spinel = child figure to Pink, considering the last person the trio sung this to was Pink’s literal biological son), Spinel sings part of Found again, finally believing Steven’s statement that she will love again, as she connects and converses with people who genuinely like her despite all she’s been through and become.

Spinel learns and accepts, for the first time in the movie, that she is worthy of love, and is not too broken or changed by her trauma to receive it.

And so I cried like the winner of a horseradish paste eating contest.

In summary, to me, and I’m more than sure to other experiencers of childhood emotional and/or physical abuse at the hands of somebody they trusted, Spinel is one of the best media representations of the complex moods, highs and lows, and experiences of going through, repressing, and processing trauma. Not only that, but unlike some other characters I can think of, Spinel gets a hopeful ending. She’s not so warped and broken that the writers deemed her too far gone and thus only worthy of killing off. No. Spinel is a trauma victim who goes through a dark period of coping in negative ways, but then comes out the other side ready to open herself back up to the idea of healing and moving on from her trauma and abuser. Despite all her baggage and scars, the movie assures us Spinel is just as worthy of a happy ending as any other person.

And I don’t think I’m alone in saying that if MY pained ass at the beginning of my traumatic processing years ago had seen that I could, that I CAN be okay despite it, that it would have meant so much to me.

And even though I’m still still learning to love again myself, I think deep down all victims hope we can become our own Spinel someday.

Somewhere.

Somehow.

We’ll love again.

TL;DR Rebecca Sugar wrote one of the best arcs about abuse on television ever and its star was a rubberhose baby who sounds like Betty Boop and whos shoes make the spongebob walk cycle noise sample and thats why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

#su #su the movie #su the movie spoilers #su spinel #media essay #essay #parental abuse #abusive relationships #toxic relationships #su movie #su movie spoilers #rebecca sugar

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