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tteokdoroki · 9 months

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Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed.

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you.

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then.

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him.

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need.

you feel what satoru can’t.

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.”

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist.

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be.

and he’s practically a god.

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped.

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below.

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.”

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.”

that makes satoru falter.

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do.

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you.

he is weak for you.

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start.

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him.

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes.

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips.

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry.

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.”

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.”

“look at me, please.”

“gojo.”

“please.”

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.”

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live.

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore.

you would much rather have him kill you instead.

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moominsuki · 1 year

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✎ᝰ ITOSHI RIN ; — he promised he would never make you sad. even new promises can be born out of broken ones.

࿄ ! warnings — gn!reader except for the usage of ‘girl’, angst & lots of comfort. sfw! / note. my first time writing for rin so go easy on me :,} he makes my heart so warm. enjoy lovies <3

arguments with rin were akin to a battlefield. it hurts more than anything when he spits venom in your face, relaying words that should never be said by a man to his woman.

perhaps it’s the fact that you know him so deeply that reassures a hopeful part of you - a part of you that loves the dark, teal-hued haired man. it’s so tumultuous the way rin can go from zero to a hundred in seconds and suddenly, you’re walking on egg shells around him.

this time though, he knows for certain he’s fucked up. he can see it in the way fat tears run down the softness of your pink cheeks, and in the way that you relinquish all your weaponry, baring only a white flag and your soul:

“you’re right, rin. what do i know?”

it’s been a day and half and rin feels like hot garbage. he’s taking advantage of every half time to see if you’d message him first and his fingers always hover and twitch over the keyboard before the screen inevitably turns dark at his lack of activity and all he can see is his own tired and regretful face staring right back at him.

it was always you who'd reach out and, while he would seldom admit this to anyone, you were a constant in his life, the one person who understood him better than even himself. and now, he could feel you slipping out of his grasp, feeling a sense of despair creeping in.

he’s moving like he’s on auto pilot for the tedious remainder of his practice and he’s realised that you both haven’t gone this long without speaking in a long while and it sucks. why wouldn’t you understand that he’s a working man? he - you both knew that this was complicated. he was a professional footballer now - on the precipice of surpassing his older brother, and could you truly understand all the pressures and expectations that came with it?

rin doesn’t even know the answer to that anymore. though, what he does know is that he’s treated a good girl bad. and he’d be damned if he let his inferiority get in the way of loving you like you deserve.

“rin? you good, bro? you look like shit.” says isagi and rin scoffs before grabbing the black haired man by his shirt and pulling him close.

“what the fu-?!”

“tell coach i’ll be right back. something’s come up.”

rin speeds out the building before anyone can protest, taking nothing but his desire for you. he just hopes he gets there on time.

but it’s not like you’re doing anything particularly profound yourself. having called sick from university for a second day in the row, you’re eating leftover curry from the nights before... the nights when you and rin were cuddled up and you were spoon feeding him this exact meal.

you couldn’t stop the tears from dribbling down your face and right into your bowl. you hate that idiot. you hate that your heart beats for him and him only, even though he makes you feel like this on the bad days.

‘but there shouldn’t be any bad days,’ you think and the wrists of your sweater mop up any salty tears and snot from your face.

you can’t help but wonder if this was a sign from the universe - if you were destined to go your separate ways, to become nothing more than distant memories of a simpler time, a time in which rin would’ve ate glass if it meant he’d never see you cry again.

“you don’t have to do that, idiot,” you giggle, “though it would be a good punishment. are you manifesting that for yourself?”

rin shakes his head that’s kneading against your bare tummy, your t-shirt having been ridden up so he could press his cheek against the warm skin of your belly.

“just shut up… i would do a lot of things so that you’d never cry,” he grumbles cutely, ears red and you run your fingers through his hair as he lets out a puff of air.

“i’ll hold you to that, rinnie.”

three hard knocks against your front door throws you out of your reminiscing and you quickly wipe and pat at your face as hard as you can to brush away any remnants of a sadness-fuelled crying session before padding away to open at the door.

“hi - oh.”

you don’t know why you’re so surprised to see him but to see him like this? all sweated up, out of breath and pink in the face were all symptoms that were reserved for his football practice. the rin you knew would never sacrifice his prime training hours just to see you-

“just give me a minute. you - you don’t have to let me in. but i just wanted to say i love you, y/n. and you deserve better than - than, i don’t even want to say it,” rambles rin, who’s short of breath and he doesn’t know if it’s from running all the way over to see you or if it’s from trying not to get distracted by how devastatingly gorgeous you look, even when he’s the reason for your heartbreak. you’re wearing the sweater that he got you and your eyes are all doe-eyed and glassy and your plump lips are pursed together.

“but i’ll say it anyway because it needs to come from me. you deserve better than me. and i’ll still want you regardless, even though i don’t deserve you. and i’m sorry. i’d still eat glass even if you want me to but it still wouldn’t be enough. i’m sorry.”

rin exhales loudly and closes his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on your face but all it does it prevent the anticipation of seeing your arms fly over his waist.

“you’re such an idiot, rin,” you sob, face stuffed in his jersey and he all but wraps two strong arms around and rests his face into your hair, wanting - needing to be engulfed by everything that you are.

“i still hate you for making me sad,” you say, all muffled and sniffly and he breathes out a little harshly at that, wincing but he knows he deserves more than a few pointed words from you.

“i hate myself for making you sad,” he murmurs and you sniffle even more.

“you should definitely eat glass after this,” you mumble and rin presses his lips into the crown of your head and hums.

“as long as it’s made by you.”

“shut up… you should, sniff, go back to practice,” you whisper after pulling your face from the comfort of your boyfriend’s warm and toned body.

“you’re sure you don’t want me to stay?” rin frowns and for the first time in almost three days does he see a beautiful grin take up your face and he has to stop himself crumbling into the floor while you nod fervently.

“seriously, you should go. i don’t want to be the reason why bachira and isagi start going off on you,” you giggle and rin’s lips upturn slightly and he lets out a half chuckle.

“yeah, you’re right. but i won’t be too long so… wait for me?”

“…ok,” you bite your bottom lip and rin holds back the dire urge to kiss you but given the circumstances, he decides not to overstep, already elated that you still want him in spite of his behaviour.

he nods again and goes to leave the vestibule of your home when you pull his arm back.

the dark haired man turns to look at you in confusion, “what-” but he is merely interrupted by your hands that grab at his neck and the push of your lips onto his own.

the way rin kisses back in reciprocity is almost instantaneous and too wild for you to keep up as his hands splay themselves across the small of your back to your waist. your mouth tastes like a faint hue of katsu curry and even so, rin can’t help but slot his lips over yours. you eventually throw your arms around his neck to get impossibly closer to the man and even though he’s smells vaguely sweaty, you can’t help but be addicted to the scent anyway. especially when he holds you like he can’t get enough of you and it makes a fire rumble in the pits of your belly.

“i don’t hate you by the way,” you say when you break apart the kiss to whisper on his lips and he hums, all placant and appeased from being in your arms.

“i know,” and rin leans down to kiss at you one last time and you push him away playfully.

“you should definitely go now. they’re gonna be on you when you come back,” you twinkle and rin can’t help but mirror the soft expression that sits on your face.

“i’ll see you later, y/n,” he nods, taking your knuckles to his mouth, and the action makes you roll your eyes and he smirks this time around.

“okay, okay, i’m gone.”

when you finally get to shut the door behind you, you saunter off to the couch to see a notification light up your phone.

rinnie <3: on my way back. i love you.

a salty droplet hits your phone screen but this time, it’s not a cause of sadness; more so, a cause of adoration for the idiot. your idiot.

you: i love you too, rinnie :) have a good rest of your practice!

the striker has missed approximately 30 minutes of practice by the time he languidly strolls through to the pitch and multiple sharp eyes land on him - despite his attempt at blending in to make it seem like he never left.

to say that the guys on the team lambasted him would be an understatement. rin makes a mental promise to never induce sadness in you again, lest he face the wrath of his annoying teammates. though he doesn’t really care what those idiots think.

he’d run out of a million more games if it meant he needed to make things right with you.

#blue lock #not proofread hehe #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin angst #rin fluff #itoshi rin x reader #bllk fluff #bllk angst #✎𓂃stamped: (blue lock)。°˖⌕#༝˚૮ .♡ rin

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bangtanflirt · 7 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 7)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: none aside from what's in general warnings

____

You don’t want to wake up. It might be a new day, but yesterday’s fatigue still seeps into both your bones and brain, like a hangover without the fun of drinking. And it’s Saturday, which means you can’t sleep in until Yoongi leaves for work. You might have melted into his touch last night, but now that you’re a lot less hazy and emotional, the events of yesterday cause a resurgence of anxiety in your stomach. His last sentence rings crisp in your ear.

You’re my best friend.

Best friend yet he couldn’t have one proper conversation before berating you in front of everyone? Your fears keep growing and rumbling inside, fears that he does hate you, and that the only reason he’s sticking around is because of his mother’s bills—just like he stuck around for his old boss. Did he see you the same way he saw him? If he could work under someone like that for years and put up with it…what’s to say he wasn’t just putting up with you? Saying whatever he thinks you want to hear?

And there’s also Taehyung and Hoseok—getting mad at them feels equivalent to kicking a puppy. Well with Hoseok, you’re more disappointed than actually angry. You really wish he hadn’t lied like that, but your heart hurts thinking about how much he’s been through to get to that point.

All you want to do is stay in bed all day and avoid the aftermath of last night, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing until you hear the little knock at the door.

“It’s unlocked” you mumble, rolling over to see who it is and what excuse you have to make to not leave your bed. In peaks a mop of light brown hair, timidly walking in wearing a rather messy apron.

“I made breakfast, everyone else is at the table already.” It’s not the chipper tone he had yesterday morning, but rather a jittery one.

“I’m not in the mood to eat.” You pull the covers up, hinting for the boy to leave. But he stays right there, making tiny noises with his feet as he nervously shuffles from one foot to the other. You pull the cover down to raise a brow at him.

“I said I wasn’t hungry Jimin.”

“W-we just want one last meal with you…please.”

“Last meal? What are you talking about?”

He looks like he’s ready to cry at any moment. “We all know you want us gone as soon as possible…a-and we don’t blame you! Just one last meal before the shelter, please?”

Shit, you’re going to have to get out of bed after all.

___

It’s clear everyone uneasy around you, dodging eye contact as you sit at the table. Yoongi’s the only one who meets your gaze, but now you’re the one looking down at your omelet instead. It’s clear whatever was “resolved” last night was a just temporary band aid for a much deeper wound.

“This isn’t working. Things need to change.”

They wolves nod half-heartedly, knowing exactly where this is going.

“You guys can’t just assume that I’m going to ship you off to some shelter the second I’m mad. It makes me feel like I can’t even be angry without scaring you, and that’s not fair. I should be able to be upset without feeling like the asshole here.”

It takes a few seconds of mechanical nodding before your words actually sink in, causing them to look up and around in shock, mentally asking each other if they heard that right.

“We can stay? Even after last night?” The Alpha has to hear you explicitly say it before his packmates get their hopes up.

“Yes Namjoon. No one’s going to any shelter, even after last night. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Taehyung, because I am. That book was very important to me, and he shouldn’t have been so careless,”

The guilt is still fresh on the wolf’s face, and it’s clear he wants to apologize again, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“and Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.”

“Yes, absolutely! I-I’ll be honest. I’ll be good!”

“You don’t have to be good. You’re not being evaluated here. No one’s sending you away for being ‘bad,’ but rather we all need to be accountable for when we mess up. That’s how things work here, everyone clear?”

All six hybrids are quick to respond, each feeling lighter after knowing that this isn’t their last day here. It’s Namjoon who your words leave the deepest impression on, the word accountability being played over and over again. It’s a word he likes. Punishment is for pets, but accountability? That’s for people.

Taehyung’s thoughts could not be more different.

Punishment is familiar. He knows how to bite down and stay still with each hit, knows how to cope with the binder clips on his tongue, knows how to huddle up and ration warmth every time he’s locked in the time-out room, but he has no clue how to do what you’re asking of him. He probably knew before the lab, right? But those memories feel like years ago, even if it’s only been a few months. All that’s really clear in his head are the commands and the punishments, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to toss him in your wine cellar with no food for a week. He doesn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin the mood now that everyone else can finally breathe around you again.

“This omelet is heavenly. I’ve never had one seasoned in this way. What’s in it?”

Jimin beams at the mention of his omelet, listing off spices and vegetables at the speed of lightning.

“It’s actually Jin hyung’s recipe! Hyung, tell her how you came up with it!”

The oldest’s ears go red at the attention, and he laughs shyly before telling you of his experimenting ways in the kitchen. Your little praises in between only cause the redness to deepen, until his ears are the same color as the tomatoes diced into today’s breakfast.

It’s once again Jimin and Jin getting the attention. Getting to talk to you, be praised by you, and not have to spill eight thousand apologies. Caretaker hybrids who don’t mess up every task they’re given. Suddenly the omelet is leaving a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth.

___

“I want to apologize again.”

You let him in, closing the door.

“I just really wish you would’ve talked to me before jumping to conclusions. Did you really think I was capable of that…in the two years that you’ve known me?”

“I just—I didn’t know he could lie. Didn’t know it was possible with all those fake hormones in him…thought he had to be honest all the time or some shit like that…so I lost my temper, and I know how wrong it was of me. I really am sorry y/n.”

“If what you said was solely about me and him then maybe I could have chalked it up to some big misunderstanding, but that’s not all that happened, and you know it. The shit you said about servants and yes-men…being tired of coddling me…I know those words came from somewhere inside of you. That’s what hurts.”

He combs his fingers through his hair in frustration, saying nothing. The longer he’s silent…the more your anxieties turn into rage, defense systems on high alert.

“Oh, so I’m right? Spit it out.”

“Y/n.”

His eyes are pleading for any way out of this conversation, but you’re not having any of that today.

“No, say it. Go ahead, stop coddling me, as you’ve been doing all this time apparently.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you again, room silent enough to hear both of your hearts beating.

“Going to work yesterday…everyone was in such a good mood. It was the first time since I’ve began working at Shin Investments where the atmosphere felt so…light?”

You wish you hadn’t asked. In fact, you wished he rather punched you in the gut than say what he just said.

“I already know everyone at work hates me, Yoongi. Might as well bring my grandmother’s book back out if today’s all about rubbing salt on existing wounds.”

“It’s not about that y/n. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to hear it from someone. The way you act at the office…it puts everyone on edge. And no I don’t think it’s wrong when it’s the board members we’re talking about, because I know how sleazy and cunning they can be. But the receptionists? The interns? The wait staff at the office restaurant? All the people that are just trying to do their jobs? What about all the times you’ve humiliated them? Or worse, fired them right on the spot for one thing you didn’t like?”

You can’t help but cross your arms, needing to feel protected in some way, even if it’s only words attacking you.

“Do you think I like being the bitch? You of all people know I don’t go home and laugh after making someone else cry. I thought, because of your old job at least, that you’d understand to some extent. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I’m stressed every day about my father coming out of retirement, or someone on the board becoming the major stockholder, or five hundred other things that could go wrong. So I’m very fucking sorry if I need to play the bitch to keep things under control.”

“I don’t know if that excuse is enough anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, more to himself than you.

God you just want to be swallowed by the carpet right now.

“What?”

“It isn’t enough. It used to be, because yes I did do shitty things under my old boss and yes I thought I had no right to judge anyone else because of that, but I got out of there y/n. At some point I stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself and got out of there because I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And I know you can do better, that you can change too.”

“You…you don’t get it…”

You don’t get that the second I let my guard down, they’ll all jump at me like piranhas. I can never be the soft, sweet person you think you can fix me into.

“and honestly you shouldn’t even be working for me anymore. It’s more obvious than ever that you do hate me, so just turn your resignation letter to Minhyun and move out of here. The less of me you see the better.”

You’re about to open the door to make him leave, but a hand on your shoulder halts you.

His gaze is softer, as is his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, not away from the company or you.”

“If this is about your mom’s bill—”

“It’s not. I don’t hate you, and I do think of you as my best friend. Which is why I want us to figure this out together instead of running away from it. Look, I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me. I know I deserve it for blowing up the way I did, and I’m going to keep apologizing and making it up to you until you forgive me. But the things I’m saying right now, it’s because I care about you…a lot.”

___

Accountability.

The word completely fills Taehyung’s brain as he paces a hallway in god-knows-what part of the ginormous house. Searching by scent is what finally gets Namjoon to track down the fretting wolf. Taehyung doesn’t even notice, too busy letting his anxiety gnaw away at him. It’s only when Namjoon blocks his pathway does the younger wolf look up.

“Oh, hi hyung.”

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

“Sorry Alpha.”

He flashes a warm smile, dimples working overtime to try to soothe his packmate’s nerves.

“It’s alright pup. I know how stressed you are.”

“I just—I just don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made, and I want to burst out crying every time she looks at me now, but I can’t because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get out of it by crying either. I just don’t know what to do.”

Namjoon pulls Taehyung in, tucking the wolf under his chin.

“You’re not alone in this. I’ve been thinking about different ways you could make it up to her, and I think I know one. It’s not perfect, but it might make her less angry. And it involves something you love to do.”

Taehyung pulls back to look up, brows raised all the way up in curiosity. Namjoon wastes no time in coming up with the game plan, telling Taehyung exactly what materials he needs to gather and what he needs to do. He watches fondly as the younger wolf’s expression becomes much more cheerful, hope coming back into his eyes.

“That might actually work! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!”

He doesn’t forget to plant one kiss on his Alpha’s cheek before running away excitedly to start his task.

“Careful! Don’t run!”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at the way Taehyung only barely slows down.

Okay, one down. One more to go.

He knows his conversation with Hoseok isn’t going to end in smiles, because he has no solution to offer his hyung. Only apologies. The wolf is sitting out in the garden, zoned out in front of your flowers, when Namjoon’s presence pulls him back. He takes a seat too, taking a moment to admire the flowers before speaking up.

“I owe you an apology.”

It’s clear that’s not what Hoseok is expecting to hear.

“You do?”

Namjoon nods, “I haven’t been doing the best job at being your Alpha lately.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re the best Alpha our pack could have.”

“I’m not talking about the pack, hyung. I’m talking specifically about you. I haven’t been the best Alpha to you. You were hurting all alone and didn’t even feel like you could tell me the truth, and I know it’s my fault. You always seem so…put-together…so self-sufficient y’know? A lot of the time I just let you do your thing and focus on the other members instead. But I see how wrong that is of me. You need to be taken care of just as much as Taehyung or Jimin or anyone else, and I’m going to make sure that happens from now on.”

“I’m sorry too, for lying, and for bottling everything up. I know it’s hard to be my Alpha, I’m not the best at showing when something’s wrong the way the rest of them are. It’s really not your fault though.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

The two stay on the bench for a while, eyes darting between every bee that the flowers draw in.

___

“It’s Jungkook. Can I come in?”

He opens the door at your approval, taking in your distressed features.

“Um, I can come back later.”

“No no, I’m fine. I was just answering some difficult work emails,” you lie through a smile, “What did you want to see me about?”

He pauses to fish something out of his pocket, looking victorious when he holds up his little notepad.

“I finished Extraordinary Attorney! I wanted to fill you in like you asked!”

If there’s anything that can even remotely soothe your hurting heart, it’s the sight of an excited Jungkook flashing his more-bunny-than-wolf teeth.

“Now’s the perfect time, come, sit.” You motion next to you and he wastes no time cuddling up to your side, bursting with excitement to tell you every plot point. He walks you through everything: dancing through revolving doors, an extensive history about whales, and a handshake he insists you try with him. You don’t even notice two hours pass as you’re laughing and invested the whole way through.

“Thank you darling. I really needed this.”

He preens at the nickname, snuggling closer into you.

“Hard day?”

“Yeah, and it’s only eleven a.m.”

“Is it because of Tae and Hobi hyung?”

“More about Yoongi if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you last night.”

“That makes two of us. But I prefer it to what he said today.”

Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, “He was meaner today?”

“No, just said some things I really didn’t want to hear.”

“Well if you need him to, Namjoon hyung can beat him up for you.”

You throw your head back laughing, the statement even funnier due to his completely serious, deadpan delivery.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

He has to be in one of these rooms.

You open one door after another, making your way around from one side of the mansion. You haven’t seen Taehyung since breakfast, and it’s already 4pm now. Namjoon had assured you he was fine when you questioned why he wasn’t at lunch, saying he’d be eating alone today as he had something to do. But what could he possibly have to do? You can’t help but think he’s bawling his eyes out in one of the spare rooms, feeling too bad to eat or talk to anyone. Yes, you want him to have some sort of remorse for what he did, but the thought of him being miserable brings you no satisfaction.

You’re about to check another room when Namjoon quickly makes his way over, putting himself between the door and you.

You give a questioning look, “Is Taehyung behind that door?”

“Yes, but please don’t go in.”

You examine his face, becoming even more confused. There’s no concern in his eyes, making you think the caretaker hybrid isn’t crying on the other side of the door.

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise. Could you trust me on this? Please?”

He knows it’s a risky ask. You could easily laugh at his face, making it clear that humans and hybrids operate on commands and obedience, not trust. There’s nothing stopping you from giving a direct command for him to open the door right now.

You mull it over in your head, concluding that if Taehyung was in any sort of trouble, Namjoon would look much more stressed right now.

“Alright. I won’t ask.”

The Alpha can’t help the little smile that peaks through. He can’t help but feel as if he’s being a little greedy, pushing the boundaries of what autonomy you’ll allow him to have—but it’s so tempting to desire more, especially thinking back to how different things were at the lab.

Instead of turning around to leave, you decide to ask him to come out with you. You need some fresh air, but being alone with your thoughts is not something you’re sure you can handle at the moment.

“Do you want to take a walk with me? It’s not a command so feel free to say no.”

His face lights up instantly, “I’d love to. It’s a really nice day.”

The two of you make your way over, making a quick stop at your closet where you remember the new jackets you’d bought for them. You pull out a long maroon one, perfect size for the tall wolf. In another life, he would’ve been a model with legs that long. You smile as he checks himself out in the mirror, really feeling the outfit it seems. Just as you’re about to reach for the front door, a timid Jin stops both of you.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just out for a walk.”

He looks at you with concern, so you elaborate.

“We won’t take long, and Yoongi’s here if you need anything.”

“It’s not that…”

There’s a moment of silence, neither you nor Namjoon understanding what the problem is.

Until you follow Jin’s gaze…all the way to Namjoon’s neck.

Fuck.

You forgot one of the strictest hybrid laws:

Owned hybrids must be collared and leashed when out walking in public areas.

It seems Namjoon has this realization a couple seconds after you, face going from confident glow to despondency in a second.

It’s a crisp wake-up call. A reminder how stupidly naive his dreams of becoming independent all are.

At the end of the day, I’ll always be seen as a pet.

“I…I forgot...I’m so sorry Namjoon. We don’t have to go.”

He shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I’d still like to go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment as best as he can, standing firm. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with his feelings—an Alpha isn’t supposed to make anyone worry about him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a collar and leash?”

You nod, admitting to have the items makes you feel like you’re guilty of a heinous crime.

“I got them for each of you when I was shopping…just in case anyone wanted to go out.”

It’s the truth. The only reason you got them was after reading up hybrid laws, making sure to keep some in case they ever wanted to go outside. But that doesn’t mean it feels right saying it.

Namjoon shivers as you click the dark blue collar around his neck, contrasting stark against the white bandages underneath. You notice the way he stiffens as it’s on, but he assures you each of the twenty times you ask him if he wants it off. It doesn’t hurt against the wounds perse, more just uncomfortable friction. The real hurt is to his ego at the thought of being collared again.

At least this one doesn’t have needles. He tries to find the glass half full.

You miss the conversation Jin and Namjoon are having throughout the ordeal. It’s not with words, but rather their eyes. With Jin asking his packmate if he’s sure he’s okay, and the Alpha lying convincingly enough for Jin to drop the subject.

___

It’s clear you’ve never done this before with the awkward way you’re holding the leash. If you’re feeling this way, you can’t imagine how much worse it is for Namjoon—how humiliating it would feel to be walked out in public in this way. You’re trying to think of any solution, maybe wrapping your scarf on him and tucking the leash in under his jacket…but that would only make things worse. Namjoon is, as clear as day, a wolf hybrid, and there’s no doubt a fleet of cops would come at the slightest alert of a wolf who doesn’t look leashed.

The streets are relatively empty today, but the few people you do pass try to walk past Namjoon as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for coming out with me. I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

He gives a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, “It’s okay. It’s not like you make the laws.”

The two of you walk silently for a while, both lost in your own thoughts while pretending to look around and appreciate the scenery. You’re the one who breaks the silence—quite abruptly.

“What do you do when your pack doesn’t listen to you?”

Namjoon looks caught off guard for a moment, before processing your question.

“I find the cause of why they aren’t listening. They aren’t the type to act up because they can. Once I figure out the reason, I can get them back in line.”

“They’re never too stubborn?”

“Not typically. They respect me and the hierarchy enough to know better,”

Inherent respect. Must be nice.

“but that’s just part of it” he goes on, “the main thing is that they know that everything I do is with their benefit in mind.”

He’s quick to notice the sour face you make at that sentence.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you sigh “I just don’t think I’ve been doing that last part pretty well.”

It sucks to admit, but it is true that you can get a bit narrow in your focus when it comes to work—only thinking about how to benefit yourself.

“I don’t always get it right either. If it’s any consolation, you’re doing it pretty well when it comes to the pack and me. You’ve shown us more compassion in three days than we’ve seen in three months.”

Your eyes soften. It does console you a bit, reminding you that you are capable of compassion—that you aren’t a complete lost cause. You ask the next question plaguing your mind.

“Are there ever times when you have to lead them even though they aren’t happy with you?”

“Oh plenty of times. I’m constantly telling them things they don’t want to hear.”

“And when it feels like it’s all falling apart?”

“Then I have to change my approach.”

“What if you’re not the problem?”

He stops for a moment, bending down to admire a particularly beautiful flower in a patch of grass.

“Most things are my fault. No matter which packmate messes up, it can nine times out of ten be traced back to some way I failed to communicate with or lead them. And even when it’s not, I still need to step up. That’s just how it works when you’re trusted to be the Alpha.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you soak in his words, before letting out a frustrated groan.

“Leadership. That’s what you’re describing. And accountability. Can you believe I lectured you all about it this morning only to be so shit at doing it myself?”

“It sounds like you’re trying. You wouldn’t be asking me all this if you weren’t.”

“How do you know exactly what to say?”

“Lots of practice with five very different wolves” he smiles.

“You’re an amazing person Joon. I hope you know that.”

It’s almost overwhelming. Your sweet words, the loving nickname his pack uses, being called “person” instead of “mutt.” The collar and leash serve as a reminder of servitude and ownership, but the way you talk to him goes against everything they symbolize. Everything feels so conflicting. Will the two of you ever truly be equals?

____

A/N: My brain is kind of mush today so nothing more to say than I hope you're week is going well.

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

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kingkatsuki · 10 months

Text

— release

Don’t mind me, just feeling self-indulgent today💕

Being Dynamight’s PR manager you were used to getting him out of trouble, it’s only fair he show you some appreciation.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, piss.

Word Count: 1.2k.

“Spread your legs.”

“What?” A fierce heat flooded to your cheeks as you tried to ignore the throb between your thighs at such a blaze request.

Your fingers stilled against your keyboard as you looked up at your boss from across the room. City lights illuminated the empty office as you were the only two left on the floor, the last minute mission reports were almost complete and your body ached from hunching over your computer for so long.

Each time Dynamight faced a destruction of public property charge it always meant staying late, his PR team working overtime to try and arrange reparations. And as his PR manager it meant staying later than the rest of your employees, who were long gone. You’d expected the phone to stop ringing during office hours, but after just getting off the phone with another disgruntled civilian at past ten, you were proved wrong.

“You heard,” He stepped towards you as he carded a hand through his messy hair.

“I should be giving you orders right now, Dynamight,” You hissed, “Do you realise how many complaints I’ve had to address today because of you?”

“People always got shit to complain about,” He scoffed, “I got the guy, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but maybe you could do it without totalling a building next time?” You sneered.

“I thought you liked staying late in the office with me,” He grinned, walking around the edge of your desk, “You were pretty happy when I had you pressed against my window last month.”

Your heart raced at the memory, your breasts pressed against the cool glass as he pounded into you from behind. His agency was one of the tallest buildings in the city, but there was still a chance that someone could’ve seen you.

“I think you like when I do this shit.” He pressed.

“Oh yeah, I really love spending overtime being berated on the phone.” You rolled your eyes.

“Just hang up on those fuckers,” He shook his head, “They’re always the first to complain when shitty Deku’s not there in time.”

“Unless you’d missed it, my job is to get you out of shit,” You smiled, “Not to make it worse.”

“I thought your job was to do whatever I say.” Large palms pushed your computer chair back from the desk, spinning you to face him.

“My job is to keep you out of trouble,” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Which is why you seem to enjoy making it hard.”

“I think you’re the one that likes making me hard, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes at his crass humour as his lips curled into a smug grin, “So spread your legs.”

Bakugou’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he watched the way your cute skirt rose further up your thighs as you obeyed, revealing your plain cotton panties to his debauched gaze.

“Good girl.” He growled. You were always so obedient, so easy. The way you were ready and willing to do anything for him at the blink of an eye.

But you needed this too, especially after the day you’d had. You deserved it, and Bakugou was more than willing to give it to you.

“Been thinkin’ about this all damn day,” He groaned, “I shoulda called you into my office earlier.”

“I really need to use the bathroom first, Katsuki.” You mumbled.

A request which fell upon deaf ears as Bakugou settled himself between your plush thighs, broad arms shouldering them further apart as he nuzzled your clothed crotch. Breathing in the scent of you as you involuntarily bucked your hips into his touch, your core throbbing with desire and need.

“So pretty,” He hums, ignoring your request as he places a chaste kiss on your sensitive clit through the fabric, grinning when your body jolts in response, “You been waiting for me all day?”

“Shit,” You whined, hands blindly reaching out for his messy mop of hair as he began to lap at your folds through the thin material. Watching it darken from a mixture of your slick and his spit as your pelvis began to tighten. Trying to chase the pleasure he was giving you and ignore the dull throb that pulsed inside you, desperate for relief, “Katsuki, I really have to pee first.”

You could coax him to the bathrooms, let him pound you over the sinks as he’d done so many times before after you’d given yourself the relief you were craving. Being sat autonomously at your desk for so many hours as you tried to repair the mess that Dynamight had created, you’d lost track of time and basic human needs. His warm hands smoothing along your inner thighs reminded you of just how desperately you needed to go.

If Bakugou heard your pleas, he chose to ignore them. Palming himself through his slacks as he lapped at your sensitive clit through your panties.

You were certain you wouldn’t be able to hang on for much longer, trying to close your thighs around his head in a feeble attempt to hold yourself back for a little longer— to stop yourself from humiliating yourself in front of your boss.

Bakugou’s fingers curled beneath the fabric as he pulled them down your thighs, leaving them settled around one of your ankles as he spread you apart with his thumbs.

“Kats,” You groaned, your cunt clenched from the throb in your pelvis, “Please.”

“Ain’t no one stopping you, sweetheart.” He rasped, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against your puffy clit.

The contact with your bare cunt had your hips jerking, throwing your head back against the headrest as you felt your pelvis throb. All conscious thoughts swirling from your mind as you finally allowed yourself to relax and succumb to the desire. The euphoria almost mind-numbing as a warm stream began to trickle from between your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. That’s it—” Bakugou groaned as he watched through half-lidded eyes. His cock throbbing beneath his slacks as he watched you relieve yourself in front of him, “So pretty.”

Bakugou smoothed his thumb along your slit, following the warm stream as your hole clenched around nothing from the contact. Embarrassment had your heart pounding in your chest as your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping onto the arms of your chair as you tried to close your thighs.

“Don’t,” Bakugou snarled, slapping your cunt as the wet sound echoed around the empty Office. You gasped at the contact as your eyes snapped open, “Look at me.”

The painful throb was now replaced with white hot bliss that coursed through your veins as your eyes rolled back, your lips parted in a desperate whine as he pulled back to watch you with his intense crimson gaze.

“Oh fuck,” You bit down on your lower lip hard as you emptied your bladder, finally beginning to feel your body relax as the intense throb from your clit took over. Desperate for any kind of contact as you rolled your hips into Bakugou’s touch.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He hummed, his fingers brushing along your wet slit before pushing inside your tight core, stealing all the air from your lungs, “My dirty girl.”

#tw:piss #trigger:piss #Bakugou smut

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supercap2319 · 9 months

Text

"You know it's bad enough that there's a possible attempt on my life, but being sardined canned into a closet with you two is punishment enough. Y/N grumbles. His foot is in a mop bucket, and it's still wet from the mop water. "I think I'd rather be shot. Would be less painful than feeling Claremont's elbow in my ribs and your majesty's foul breath down my neck."

"Are you quite finished?” Henry said. "Can you perhaps stop putting all our lives in danger with your incisive tirade?"

"Why do you hate us so much, Y/N?" Alex and Henry turned their heads to squint at him. This close Y/N could see the flecks of blue in Henry's eyes and the soft black curls of Alex's hair.

"You guys really want to go there?"

"Maybe we do."

Y/N tried to un-sandwich himself between the two boys, unsuccessful in his mission as he huffed and looked at both of them. "Olympics 2016." He looks at Henry. "I went to introduce myself and was excited to meet you, but you looked at me like I was the antichrist and told Shana to get rid of me."

He turned to Alex. "2018. Your New year's party. My dad insisted on getting to know you, Nora, and June. So, I went to one of the rooms and when Nora asked if you were going to invite me, you laughed and said 'fuck no! Fuck that cocksucker' and started to laugh."

Alex and Henry looked down. "I didn't realize you'd heard that." Henry said.

"Is that your douchey-prince way of apologizing? Because you sure suck at it."

Henry looks at him and pauses. "I could have been nicer."

"And I can be a big mouth when I'm drunk and you're right. I should have invited you in the first place. I don't think you're a cocksucker." Alex said.

"And you think that makes it okay? Half-assed apologies and everything is fine?" Y/N said.

"I'm sensing there's more to your dislike of us." Henry noted.

Y/N sighed. "It's just… it's not fair. You guys make it look so easy. Everyone loves you and thinks you're sexy and the greatest thing since sliced bread. Me? I feel like I'm always being compared to Prince Henry and First Son Alexander Claremont. I feel like I have to struggle to catch up to you both to prove I'm worth it too. Now can you understand why I'd rather be shot than spend another minute in this janitor closet with you both?"

They're both quiet for a while. "Well, I can't change that, but I can tell you that I was, in fact, a prick that day. Not that it excuses my behavior, but my father passed away fourteen months back and I wanted everyone to suffer like I was suffering. I'm sorry."

"And I'm the son of the first female president. And I'm not white like she is, so I understand the struggle to prove yourself to the world. And it may seem like I have it all figured out, I don't. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Y/N." Alex apologized.

Before Y/N could reply, Alex's bodyguard opened the door. "Threat neutralized. Some kid brought fireworks for his friend."

Alex looks her. "When you say 'neutralize…'"

"It's a good thing he's already in the hospital." She winks at Y/N.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #alex x henry #Alex x Henry x male reader #taylor zakhar perez #Taylor Zakhar Perez x male reader #Taylor Zakhar Perez x Nicholas Galitzine #Taylor Zakhar Perez x Nicholas Galitzine x male reader #nicholas galitzine #Nicholas Galitzine x male reader #Prince Henry x male reader

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belovedwhore · 1 year

Text

pretty boy pt 3

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, oral (m!receiving), lowkey sub ethan

notes: hey y’all here’s pt3, i hope this is better than pt2 and ik it seem like the reader not getting much but trust she gon get hers soon, i already have an idea for it so just stay tuned! also i will be writing other smut for ethan that is separate from this series so stay tuned for that too. thanks for all the love and welcome new followers!!! anyways enough chit chat hope you enjoy!

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

————————————————————————

the morning after. you woke up before ethan just admiring the sleeping boy laid next to you, thinking about last night. something about him got you and he’s all you want. couple minutes after you woke up he began to stir, looking over at you as if you were a dream.

“good morning pretty boy,” you greeted.

“good morning,” he rasped in his morning voice. god if he was gonna sound like that in the mornings we’d be doing something different right now.

“what’d you think of last night,” you asked.

“it was great,” he blushed clearly reliving the events of last night.

“good, would you wanna do it more?”

“oh right now,-” he perked starting to sit up on the bed.

“easy there pretty boy,” you laughed, “i meant generally but i’ll just be taking that as a yes.”

“ohhh ok yea, definitely a yes,” he added, “imma go grab a shower, i’ll be right back.

he got up from the bed and walked around to your side, kissing you briefly before leaving the bedroom. you laid looking at the ceiling for a bit, thinking about last night once again. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door,

“back already?” you called out.

“it’s me sex demon,” you heard tara say as she opened the door, “making sure you’re decent, god knows if you have clothes on after last night.”

“oh no were we loud?” you asked.

“no just the occasional ‘oh my god ethan’ ,” she faked moaned, “and can’t forget about the ‘oh oh oh my god,” in her best ethan voice.

“oh god, i can’t,” you covered your face with your hands, peeking through you started, “wait what about you and chad, anything happen?”

“nada, kinda a turn off when you and ethan are over here fucking like it’s your last day on earth.”

“ok we didn’t fuck yet just some… other stuff.”

“mmhmm, well you might wanna get out of sam’s room before she gets up here because she definitely thought you were in my room.”

“oh shit you’re right,” you said getting up off the bed and heading over to tara’s room.

as you walked to tara’s room you heard the shower running and knew ethan was in there.

“i have to get something from the bathroom.”

“ethan’s in there,” she stated.

you didn’t answer, just smiled as you walked backwards to the bathroom. tara flicked you off jokingly as you entered quickly and shut the door.

“hello,” you heard ethan call out from behind the curtain, “chad i swear to god if you’re trying to scare me right now-“

“not chad.”

poking his head out of the shower he saw you sitting there on the bathroom counter, “oh hey, i’m almost done in here so you should be good.”

“it’s hot as fuck in here,” you told him as you drew shapes on the mirror.

you heard him turn the faucet off and saw him reach out to grab his towel, “yea i usually take hot showers.”

he stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his waist, revealing his v-line. his hair was still curly, resting on his head like a mop. you beckoned him closer with your hand. as he came more within your reach you grab his hand and pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately. he melted into the kiss, allowing you to take control. as he moaned you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him completely unable to get enough. your hands drifted to his wet hair while his went to your waist drawing you forward, closer to him. you tangled your hands in his curls, pulling at them making him groan into the kiss. as he pulled you closer you felt his growing length against your core, he grinded against you, giving you both some kind of release. suddenly you had a thought. pushing him back slightly you hopped off the counter onto the ground without disconnecting your lips. ethan’s back was now against the counter while you stood in front of him. you kissed him harder, now palming his cock hidden under the towel.

you separated your lips, moving to kiss down his body instead. you kissed down the middle of his chest, swiping across his nipples with your tongue. ethan groaned continuously as you worked your way down, head rolling back in pleasure. next you got to his abs, tracing the ridges with your tongue all the way to his v-line. as you were kneeling in front of him now, you dropped his towel, freeing his now fully hard cock. ethan hissed as the air hit his exposed tip already leaking precum. you looked up at him as you began stroking his shaft,

“guessing you’ve never had a blowjob.”

he nodded his head as he couldn’t get any words out. you saw his jaw clench as you worked his cock, sliding your finger over his slit he bucked his hips into your hand, chasing a relief. finally you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it. his steps faltered as he gripped the counter, groaning at the unfamiliar feeling. you took him deeper into your throat, looking up at him struggling to contain himself. pulling your mouth off it, you pumped it more as your saliva covered the length. he squirmed beneath your touch, moaning as you stroked his shaft tightly. again you went in with your mouth, this time taking him deeper. as his tip hit the back of your throat he bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag around his cock,

“shit, i-i’m sorry i didn’t mean t-,” he rambled.

“it’s fine,” you assured him as you licked up the side of his cock, “i like it.”

as you palmed him in your hand you moved your mouth to his balls. as you sucked on one of them, ethan hit the counter with his palm, overcome with pleasure.

“is everything okay in there,” you heard someone call out from the hallway.

“yea, just uh dropped my shampoo,” he croaked.

“y-you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher due to his current state.

after you moved to the other, you resumed sucking his dick, lowering your mouth down until your nose tickled his pelvis then back up again. each time you lowered back down he came closer and closer to cumming, at this point basically whimpering under your touch, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut.

“fuck,” he said breathlessly as his tip hit the back of your throat again.

and the next time you came down on his cock, he came hard. you felt his legs shaking as he emptied his load in your throat, jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut, and gripping the counter for dear life. you swallowed his load, milking him through his orgasm until you felt him trembling, overstimulated with his release.

you then stood up in front of him with the towel, hanging it to him you said, “you might wanna put this back on.”

quickly he grabbed your face, kissing you roughly, grabbing the curves of your ass as you moaned. it left you breathless.

“you uh- had something right there,” he joked as he wrapped his towel around his waist again.

“mm hmm, yea,” you played into it as you slipped out of the bathroom carefully, having to remain unseen.

#ethan landry x reader #scream #ghostface #ethan landry #scream 6 #smut #little bit of plot #sub!ethan #ethan landry smut

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

pairing: steve harrington x reader x eddie munson

requested (except i fucking deleTED IT-): Hiii, I was wondering if I could request something with steddie x reader where Steve, Eddie, and reader are all roommates and one day steddie accidentally finds a box full of reader’s “special” toys, which leads to smut?

*sighs dreamily* steddie x reader <333

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You can pinpoint the exact second that your heart drops to your stomach, then plunges all of your intestines to your feet. It's right about when you realize what the baby blue plastic is in Steve's hand, Eddie's voice drawling from behind the door.

"-nd I bet it fuckin' stretches 'er."

"It vibrates, too." Steve peers down at the controls, looking quite like a technologically inept old man, "Didn't know she was- oh," He catches sight of you, his grip tightening around your dildo, "She's back."

Before you can react, Eddie's frizzy mop of hair pops out from behind your door. He's clutching a bullet vibe, looking more smug than you've ever seen him, "Well, well, well, have we interrupted playtime, sweetheart?"

"You guys!" You blubber, rushing forward to snatch your sex toys out of their hands. Your fingers curl around them both, but your roommates seem hellbent on playing keepaway, and your grip slides off when they tug your toys away.

"No," Eddie hums, "We're not makin' it that easy, sweetheart. C'mon, you have three pink dildos?"

"These are private!" Your cheeks flush, tears burning humiliatingly at your eyes, though your stomach bottoms out at the sight of the toy in Eddie's lithe fingers, "C'mon, please don't tease me!"

"I just think if they were private you'd've hid them," Steve's lips protrude in a meaningful pout, "We were staring to think that maybe you left 'em here for us to find. 'Cause there's no way we weren't gonna notice that one on the floor in the doorway," Steve points to the glittery green plug that had gotten scooped up in your sheets and must have tumbled out in your rush to get ready in the morning, "It's, like, begging for attention."

"I swear I didn't mean to leave it there," You plead with Steve, playing to the emotions you know he gives into more easily than Eddie does, "Please you guys? Give 'em back."

"Not until we make sure they work." Eddie bargains, pulling your attention away from Steve, "I mean, what kind of roommates would we be if we didn't make sure your electronics have good batteries in 'em?"

"I'm the designated Battery Checker," Steve nods, referring to his job of changing the remote's batteries, "'Kinda feels like we should do a little quality control."

"Quality control," You scoff, gathering up the toys on the floor and shoving them back into the bin you keep them in, "What, you're gonna flick 'em on and off 'till you decide they're good enough?"

You turn back from where you've shoved the box into the closet, finding your roommates suddenly a lot closer than they had been before.

"No," Eddie corrects you, voice deep and husky, "If they can't make you cum, then there's no reason to have 'em. Call it spring cleaning."

You glance at Steve, lust peeking out from behind the wariness displayed in your gaze, "You're gonna.. use 'em on me?"

"Why not?" Steve shrugs, but you know the question is genuine, "Got other plans?"

"No!" You shake your head, though you're sure that even if you were otherwise engaged, the thought of your roommates double teaming you with various sex toys would have canceled just about any plan you could have had, "No, um, I'm free."

Steve's fingers tighten around the dildo in his grip, and Eddie grins like a madman. They each start with the toys in their hands, Eddie's nimble fingers flicking the switch on your bullet, "'Knew it. C'mon, baby, lay down, we've got a lotta work ahead of us."

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camaro-and-smokes · 18 days

Text

Sunlight on his face

Warning: period-typical homophopia. Made for @harringrove-relay-race 💜

Also on AO3 >>

Sunlight bleeds into the ceiling and on the top of the wall of their small bedroom from behind the curtain that sways slowly in the wind in front of the slightly open window.

Billy sits down next to Steve on the bed, doing his best not to wake him up. He knows he should be well on his way, but the sun is about to get up and Steve laying in bed like this—on this morning of all mornings—Billy can't leave, not just yet.

Steve is laying on his stomach, hugging his pillow, and his dark chocolate hair is a mess. Billy smiles as he runs his fingers gently through the hair, careful not to accidentally pull on any tangles and wake Steve up. Some locks are mushed between Steve's cheek and his pillow and a few strands are stuck on his cheekbones. The rest is a wild mop over his forehead and on the pillow.

Billy loves it when Steve's hair is like this. Untamed, untethered, unbothered.

Free.

Billy likes when Steve's like that, too.

Steve's been drooling in his sleep. Again.

It never fails to be endlessly endearing to Billy. He'll never tell that to Steve, though, because Steve hates that he drools in his sleep. Waking up every morning to your pillowcase being wet—or to a crusty line leading down from the corner of your mouth to your jaw or cheek—isn't classy, according to Steve.

For some godforsaken reason, he still thinks that he should be classy, as if there was nothing else he could be. But Billy knows that when Steve says those words, it's Steve's dad speaking, not Steve.

Billy isn't classy, and yet here Steve is, in bed with him. The sole proof of the words not being Steve's.

Billy knows it's not easy to let go of your past, even if you're doing better now. For them, it'll take years, if not decades, to let go of all the horrors of the past. If they ever can.

But it doesn't matter, not this morning—or ever, really, not anymore. Because of this, right here; Steve, next to him, with him.

The rays wander closer to the bed, already caressing the headboard. Billy has decided to stay until the sun reaches Steve's face.

Because today of all days, he wants to see his boyfriend's sleeping face lit up by the morning sun.

He's seen it so many times painted by the last rays just before the dusk settles, or just before the sun reaches the first steps of the ladders that lead high upon the sky above the horizon.

But never has he seen it in the first morning rays, as the sun starts climbing high up onto the sky. Whenever there’s been a chance for him to catch the sight, it's always been the wrong place, or overcast or raining, or he's been already late, or whatever the hell else that's been keeping him from staying just for just a while longer.

Today, though, nothing else matters so much as this. The rest of the world can wait for ten minutes. He'll just drive that much faster to get to work on time. Hell, he'll even take a ticket and pay it gladly if it comes to that.

This morning, when he saw that the sky was free of clouds, he decided he wants to see the first rays of the morning sun basking on Steve's sleeping face.

Because today is special.

Yesterday, they moved into this tiny apartment. Officially to everyone else as roommates, of course. But to them, it's their first home.

The apartment is small; one bedroom, a tiny bathroom and an open space with a kitchen nook in one corner, and in the other a makeshift living room created by a couch and the small, bright red TV on a crate. There's no space for a kitchen table, so they'll be eating on the couch for now.

But it doesn't matter. Because the bedroom, even if tiny as well, has a closet, just big enough for their clothes, and enough space for their bed.

And in there, in that bed, they are.

Billy wants to stay with Steve. He wants to place his head in the crook of Steve's neck and curl himself around him like a cat. Purr into his ears all the dirty words he can come up with and wake Steve up for a round of... Yeah, he wants to, so bad.

It's just that... He started at this new job at Mr. Wilkinson's garage last week and he can't ask on his first week 'hey can I take a day off, um yeah, next Monday would be great'.

No. He needs this job.

- - -

“What is this, Steve?” a female voice, close to screeching, demanded.

Both Steve and Billy snapped their heads toward the voice. They'd been so immersed in making love that they hadn't heard the knock—if there'd ever even been one—or the door opening.

A tall, dark-haired woman looked into Steve's room, her eyes wide. Billy had never met Steve's parents, but he recognized immediately from whom Steve had inherited his looks.

Steve quickly pulled out, his face turning deep red, and he covered himself with his hand as he fumbled to grab his blanket with the other to help Billy cover himself with it.

Billy hid under the blanket and turned his back towards the door. He felt his cheeks heating as shame rolled over him and he felt like crying. No one else had known his secret, their secret, and now the third worst person in the world had learned about it.

“Mom, I can explain...” Steve tried weakly, but his mom cut him off.

“Get rid of that!” she spat.

Billy knew her tone all too well. Surprise of the worst kind, spiced with disbelief and disgust, served hot and painfully burning.

“Be glad it was me who saw this,” she continued. “This, whatever this is, ends now. You hear me, Steve the 3rd Harrington?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve said without hesitation.

When the door clicked closed, Steve brushed Billy's side with his hand. “I'm sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice, and started sniffling.

Billy realized Steve was crying, and it was all his fault. Everything was.

Him falling in love with Steve and wanting to have Steve to himself. Allowing Steve to fall in love with him. All this even though he knew it wouldn't last and that it would probably end just like this.

Billy was about to say that he'll go when Steve gently pulled the cover from over his head and looked at him.

His eyes were angry red, and the pain in them was obvious. But what came out of his mouth wasn't what Billy had expected: “Just let me pack and I'll come with you.”

“What?” Billy said, confused. “No!”

Steve shook his head. “I'm tired of hiding.”

Billy's stomach dropped at the words. He blinked and tried to find hints of lies in Steve's gaze. There weren't any.

Steve wiped his face into his forearm. “I'll come with you and we'll figure something out,”

“No. I won't let you do that,” Billy said and sat up. “You're not leaving, you have everything here, good things ahead of you—”

Steve cut him off. “I want to be with you. If I stay, I can't. My dad won't... he won't understand, anyway. I might as well come with you now.”

They stared at each other for a while in silence.

Billy swallowed. “You sure?” he asked quietly.

Steve brushed Billy's cheek with his hand and smiled. “Yeah. Never been this sure about anything in my life.”

- - -

So, now that Steve's out from Loch Nora, disowned and cut off from the Harringtons' inheritance for good, they're truly on their own until Steve turns twenty-five and gets his hands on his trust fund—the only thing his parents allowed him to keep along with his name. Yeah, they got some hush money from the government after Starcourt, but Billy needed a new car and Steve put his money on the side for a bad day. They tried not to touch it.

Steve didn't care what his dad thought, but his mom cutting all ties, too, that was a blow. Billy could see it in Steve how badly it hurt.

Maybe she'll come around one day. Billy really hopes that, for Steve's sake.

Thank god for found families, though. For Joyce. And Hop.

- - -

“Joyce?” Billy said as soon as they walked in to the Byers' house.

Joyce had taken Billy in after he'd gotten out of the government facility where he'd been treated for three months after Starcourt. While he'd been recovering Neil had skipped town, leaving Max and Susan behind and living in the trailer park, and Billy just couldn't live in the tiny trailer with them. So, Hop had driven him to Byers' and Joyce hadn't let him leave until he set his bag in Jonathan's old room, 'just until you find a place of your own.'

“Coming,” Joyce replied from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Uh, Steve's here...he, uh, came... When's dinner?” Billy heard himself stumbling over his own words. He couldn't ask Joyce to take Steve in. She'd already taken him, for fuck's sake, but Steve needed a place to stay, at least for the night.

“Oh, hello Steve,” Joyce said, smiling, when she came into the kitchen. “Food is ready, just set the table. Will is staying at the Wheelers over night and Hop is in the night shift, so it's just us tonight.”

“Uh, Joyce...” Billy started and glanced at Steve and then back at Joyce.

She must've recognized the unease in Billy's eyes as she looked at Steve and lowered her gaze at the duffel bag in his hand.

Billy could tell the exact moment she clocked in what was going on.

“Steve, do you need a place to stay?” she asked.

“Um...” Steve started quietly.

Billy followed Joyce's gaze at Steve's hands and noticed that his free hand was trembling. When he looked up at him, he saw him swallowing hard, with tears in his eyes. He took Steve's hand, squeezing it gently, and Steve squeezed it back. “Yeah, he does,” he replied on Steve's behalf. “We’ll start looking for a place of our own tomorrow.”

“You're welcome to stay, Steve,” Joyce said with a gentle smile. Then her cheeks reddened. “I know you two like each other, and that's all fine and dandy. But keep it down then, okay?”

Billy felt his cheeks heating, and he gently squeezed Steve's hand. Steve squeezed it back, and Billy cleared his throat. “We will.”

“I'll pay rent, of course,” Steve said quietly. “Or for food. Anything.”

“That's alright, we can talk those things through later,” she said and turned to the cabinets, taking out plates and cutlery, as if nothing world changing hadn't just happened.

As if one mother hadn't just kicked out her son and straight away another taken that son under her wing.

Steve and Billy looked at each other, stunned.

When Joyce realized they hadn't moved from the door, she turned to look at them. “Well, don't just stand there, boys. I'm starving. I hope you are, too.”

- - -

After a few months of looking, they finally found this place.

Their landlady is Flo, the secretary from the police station.

According to Hop, when she'd heard that two young men were looking for an apartment with a rather quick schedule and that he could vouch for them, she'd told him to call them about the small apartment of her recently passed father.

Billy is convinced Hop made the deal extra sweet for her somehow to get them out of the Byers' house. Because Hop also spent significant amount of time there.

They had really done their best to be as descreet as possible while they'd been staying at the Byers'. But they were young and in love and after sharing the house for a few months with them, Hop had looked relieved when he'd been helping them to carry their meagre belongings, clothes and such, both the couch and the bed frame Joyce wanted to get rid of, and the one thing they bought brand new—a mattress—up onto the second floor where the apartment was.

- - -

“Thanks, Hop,” Billy said when all three of them had finally gotten the last item, the heavy bed frame, upstairs. “For, you know, everything.”

Hop took his ball cap off his head and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his other hand. “Yeah, sure.” He fiddled with the bill of his cap for a moment and then raised his gaze to Steve, who had appeared on Billy's side.

Billy, who could sense trouble miles away, saw that something was brewing and eyed both of them, concerned.

Hop placed his hand on Steve's shoulder, rubbing it. “Steve. I know you're a good kid,” he started with a grave tone, and pointed at Billy with his finger. “But if you ever hurt that boy...”

Billy glanced at Steve; he'd gone stiff and he looked at Hop his eyes wide open.

But he seemed to quickly catch up with what Hop was aiming at, because he straightened his posture and pulled his shoulders back. “I won't,” he said with conviction, the kind Billy had never heard from anyone before. “Sir.”

Suddenly, Billy could feel tears gathering under his eyes, and not just because of Steve's words. He knew Steve cared for him, maybe even loved. And even if that made Billy sometimes cry for being so incredible, it was Hop's words that touched something inside him he'd never thought he'd need; knowing that the man he'd had come to look up to the several months he'd been living at the Buyers' also cared about him... He tried to blink faster to keep the droplets from falling.

Hop stared Steve in the eyes for what must've been just seconds, but what felt like a lifetime. “Alright,” he said, “I trust you. But Joyce, you know... she's a mother tiger. And she's very fond of Billy.”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I know. I'll, uh, I'll take good care of him. Sir.”

Hop patted Steve's shoulder and smiled approvingly. “Good. Well,” he said, letting go, and put his cap on. “I'll be off then. Enjoy your freedom, boys.”

Both Billy and Steve stared at the door after Hop had closed it after him.

Billy, still trying to blink his tears away, looked at Steve again. The sight made joy bubble in his stomach and laughter break its way through his tears; Steve looked ashen and truly shaken, something Billy had never seen before. And, for some reason, knowing it was because what Hop had said made it endlessly amusing.

Steve tore his eyes off the door and looked at Billy. “Jesus Christ! Ted was never that intimidating. I almost peed my pants.”

The statement made Billy cackle even more.

Steve's expression turned from shock to sour and he punched Billy in the arm with his fist—not too hard, though. “Hey, stop laughing. If you'd received a shovel talk like that from Hop, I doubt you'd feel any different,” he said defensively.

Billy was glad about the laughing fit because now he could claim his tears came from that. “You should've seen your face, though. It was priceless,” he wheezed, wiping his eyes.

Steve frowned at him, but then his gaze softened into something Billy knew well. Billy almost managed to plant his feet to hold back Steve’s sudden movement, but Steve was faster this time. He grabbed Billy's wrists and pinned him against the wall of their small foyer with his body. Billy could see the mischief in Steve's eyes, and it made a swarm of butterflies take flight in his stomach. He knew he would never have to fight Steve, not the way they did that one time forever ago. He was safe with Steve, he knew, so he surrendered.

“I promised to take good care of you,” Steve said huskily, his eyes roaming on Billy's face from his eyes to his mouth and back.

Billy felt his cheeks heating. “So you did,” he replied, his smile widening.

Steve drank the smile away from Billy's lips with a deep kiss that was very clear on what kind of care Steve meant.

- - -

The sun finally reaches the mattress and climbs onto Steve's pillow, grabbing him by the hair, and Billy moves his hand away from blocking its way. The bright rays tiptoe onto Steve's forehead, using the moles as stepping stones, one by one. As the world turns, the rays continue their endless march, sliding over Steve's temple and the bridge of his nose down his cheek. Finally, the rays cover his entire face as they continue spreading onto his shoulder and further, over Billy's knee and thigh.

Steve's relaxed face, now fully lit by the first morning sunlight, is exactly as beautiful as Billy thought it would be.

His heart aches, for he has to leave now if he wants to make it on time to work. But it's okay that he has to go. They'll celebrate in the evening when Steve comes home from his evening shift...

Billy is suddenly overwhelmed and tears pool in his eyes without a second warning; when Steve comes home in the evening, he comes home to him, to their home.

And that matters. More than Billy thought ever possible.

Because not only they just moved together yesterday, today is their very first anniversary.

The first time they celebrate their love lasting longer than mere months—love that began in that government facility where Steve was taken care of after Starcourt, too—it happens in a home of their own.

In a home where they're taken as they are, broken and not even close to perfect. Where always one is looking forward to the other to come home. Where there's no need for a curfew, for both of them want nothing more than to get home to be with each other.

It's a miracle they're here, really. So Billy, who usually takes nothing for granted, allows himself to take this much as written: they'll be happy here, together.

Billy leans down to place a kiss on Steve's cheek. Sun has warmed it and Billy rubs his nose in it a little, taking in a deep breath of Steve's scent. When Steve stirs from his sleep and grunts, Billy whispers, smiling, “I gotta run, babe. Happy anniversary. See you when you get home.”

- - -

Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful and amazing work from the next contributor @thatgirlwithasquid

#harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #suometar writes #harringrove fic

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maximoff-pan · 2 years

Note

how about eddie giving steve shit for not telling the reader how he feels for her while they’re traipsing through the upside down???

traipsing through the upside down — oh my, I love that…

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warning(s): none really, unless you count the upside down as a warning...

quick a/n: this is a really short, unedited, and pretty messy little blurb that I’m posting because I haven’t posted anything in a little bit...but I’m not super happy with it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and expect better things (and by better, I mean, less jumbled and makes more sense) from me coming soon :)

“You’re staring Harrington,” Steve doesn’t need to see Eddie’s face to know that he’s grinning. The singing tone of his voice gives that all away. “Again.”

Amber orbs meet similar dark brown ones. “You wish.” Steve hits back, even though he knows it’s true.

He was staring, he has been for the last several minutes. But it’s not like anyone here blames him. They all know how distracting you can be, how intoxicating you are to him. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Steve cannot help how often his gaze wanders to you.

At this point, Eddie’s and Robin’s voices have become like static to him, barely registering in his mind. He’s failing to hear most of what they’re saying, picking up bits and pieces of their well directed jibes. And while Steve is more than aware that they’re talking about him, making fun of him even, your sweet voice is just too distracting for him to care about much of anything else.

As he loses his focus again, Steve feels his posture slump. His feet ache as he carries his weight through the tumultuous terrain that is the upside down. For a moment, he’d forgotten where he was, forgotten just how much pain he was in. The throbbing feeling that rips through his back serves as a poignant reminder though, his body nearly collapsing at the anguish.

If he’s being honest, Steve’s never felt pain like this before. It hurts to focus on anything other than you. Then again, you’ve always been easy to think about, thoughts of you never straying too far from the forefront of his mind.

That’s why he continuously finds his eyes drifting a few paces in front of him, where you and Nancy are talking in hushed whispers, smiles crinkling the sides of your eyes.

Steve can’t hear what you’re saying, but whatever it is, you’ve made Nancy laugh, loudly and genuinely. And while they may not have been the right fit for each other, if there’s anything Steve knows about Nancy, it’s that he’s always been able to tell when she’s faking her laughter. And this one is real, pure and raw.

But it’s not a surprise to him. For as long as he’s known you, you’ve had this innate ability to make people feel safe, make everyone around you comfortable in the moments when they should least find themselves feeling so. It’s honestly never failed to amaze him how you can find happiness in the darkest of moments. With everything going on around you, Vecna being at the forefront of the many terrifying traumas you’ve all had to deal with over the passed couple of years, somehow you’re still smiling.

And boy, is your smile mesmerizing...

Steve sighs to himself as his thoughts are broken by a high pitched and obnoxious hum from the teen beside him. It’s like this mix between a low groan and a squirrelly squeal, the hairs on the back of his neck raising at the sound.

“C’mon man,” Eddie’s whine drags ever so slowly that Steve thinks it might never end. And it feels like it, truly; it’s agonizingly querulous.

But then, like he’s read his mind, Eddie’s harping on again, and Steve almost wants to punt himself across the face, (let alone Eddie), to put himself out of this misery.

“I’m fucking dying over here,” Eddie continues, gesturing wildly to himself as his mop of crazed curls flies with him. He’s fed up with this game of will they, won’t they. “I wish you’d just open your eyes dumbass.”

And I wish you’d just shut the fuck up, Steve thinks but doesn’t say, because while (for the moment) Eddie is annoying the living shit out of him, Steve knows he means well. He knows he’s just poking fun, trying to distract everyone from the fate that currently awaits you all, but he can’t help but want to slap the Hell Fire club’s infamous leader.

God knows Eddie deserves it, but he bites his tongue.

Instead, Steve merely rolls his eyes in response, tone snarky. “They already are, idiot.” He echos.

Robin huffs from beside the two teens, her feet dragging with every step. “Steve, that’s not what he—”

Steve cuts her off with the flick of his hand. They’re testing his patience right now. “I know Robin,” the demobat bites on his chest and back are really starting to burn, the adrenaline wearing off. “I know that’s not what he meant.”

Trudging through the upside down, after nearly drowning and having been attacked by monstrous bats is not exactly where Steve imagined he’d be at the moment. Nor had any of you really.

But all of that, on top of being interrogated, and poked and prodded by Eddie fucking Munson about his feelings for you, all while facing life and death, that takes the cherry on the cake.

Normally, Steve wouldn’t bat an eye. He’s used to the teasing, very much accustomed to being told how blindly in love with you he is, and having each of his (and your) friends point that out to him. But right now, it hurts him to be reminded of it. Because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance to tell you.

And not just tell you on a whim because he thinks either of you won’t make it out of this. That wouldn’t be fair. He wants it to be right, wants to give you time to respond, to feel it through. Time, he’s not sure he has.

“If you’re not going to tell her,” Eddie’s voice chimes in once again, “at least do me one favour.”

Steve nods sceptically, eyes narrowing slightly. “One, Munson.” He agrees for the moment.

“If you’re not going to get your shit together,” Eddie rasps with a smirk on his face, “then for the love of god, stop fucking staring at her. It’s starting to get a little creepy.”

“Starting?” Robin jokes in response, elbowing Steve in the ribcage.

Steve winces at the contact, nearly unable to respond. But as he catches another quick glimpse of you, smile lighting up your face, he grins back winded.

Echoing his words from earlier, his tone light this time, his lips pull together. “You fucking wish.”

Well, Steve thinks watching the looks of surprise cross their faces, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unsolicited 16

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

It doesn't get easier. The only easy thing about it is Lloyd's absence.

You relegate yourself to the confines of the room allotted you for a ransom paid in flesh, only emerging for a glass of water or a nibble of anything you could stomach. You make sure tovtidy away all remnants of your existence and return to your isolation.

Days pass and you grow restless, anxious, sometimes bored. Thoughts of leaving and going down your own road fill your head but reality just as quickly plummets you back down. You have no money, no car, no support. Colin was supposed to be your everything, you hung your whole heart on him with no one else to carry the load. What a dumb mistake.

Maybe that's why it happened. Too needy, too desperate, too pathetic. Not enough, ever.

You wallow in self-pity, languishing between the hot ripples of the bath and the warmth of the lonely bed. It doesn't seem real, you don't want to accept it. You have to, even if you could live with the betrayal, you can't go back. As much as you know Lloyd wouldn't leave you in peace, you can't see Colin opening the door to you.

Good, you think sourly and mop away another wave of tears. You don't want him. The thought of even seeing him makes your stomach turn.

You sniff and scoff to yourself. You can't even tell yourself you're too good for him. Look at you. A whore. You're not stupid, that's what this is. A maid? No, a sex worker. Nothing wrong with the hustle but you never saw yourself in that position.

Really? You never did? Come on, you are what you are. Nothing ever goes right for you. Just as you predicted, your marriage was too good to be true.

Was it ever good?

The rose-tinted glasses slip off and you groan in agony. It’s like a knife in your gut, the bile spilling out and burning your insides. You’re so stupid! So weak!

And what you’ve done with Lloyd. How quickly you descended, how easily you let him peel away the last layers of dignity. Worse, is that it wasn’t all completely repugnant.

Before you can make yourself sick, you drag yourself out of bed and wearily let yourself into the hall. The house is so big that the silence is loud in the airy halls. You go downstairs, arms crossed as you take in the rooms one at a time, taking the time to truly see it all. You could never even dream to afford a place like this.

You go to the kitchen and take out a glass. You pause before you can fill it from the filter ensconced in the front of the fridge. You exhale and traipse away, sweat pants dragging at your heels as you find your way to the parlour. You near the cabinet of liquor; wine would be better but you could make do. No, he’d know.

“Pour me one while your at it,” you wince and turn, startled out of your oblivion.

Lloyd sits with an elbow bent over the side of a leather chair, his hair greasy with dried sweat, a cut across his cheekbone as examines another gash on his forearm. You tilt your head, how long has he been back?

Embarrassed you put the glass on the round glass table near another chair, “I wasn’t–”

“Look at you,” he grunts, “you need it and I wouldn’t say no to a double.”

You look him over again. He looks drawn and tired, slightly agitated at your reticence. You nod and turn back to the cabinet, taking out the same bottle as days before. You reach underneath for two of the short tumblers and cross to him, sitting as you set out your handful on the clear surface of the long table central to the curve-backed armchairs.

“Should I ask what happened to you?”

“No,” he says curtly and you uncap the bottle, “you got your head on straight again?”

You meet his glare as you hover the bottle above the table, “yes, daddy.”

He tweaks a brow and sits back with a sigh, “good, I don’t got the energy for another fussy bitch.”

You say nothing and pour the drinks, a single for you, before sliding over his generous helping. He reaches for it, downing it in a swift gulp and you don’t bother with your own as his fingers lead a smear of blood on the crystal. You stand and leave him, trying to remember where you saw the box.

In the bathroom under the sink, you retrieve the first aid kit and its contents shuffle as you hurry back. As you enter, he’s drinking straight from the neck of the bottle. You place the white chest on the table and flip the lid up, pulling out an alcohol wipe and tearing open the packet.

“Sit down and have your drink,” he orders as he clunks the bottle down.

“You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“And?”

“And, it ‘s my job to clean that up,” you insist as you try to wipe his cheek and he swats you away.

“I’m not a baby.”

“Not all the time,” you say.

“Hey,” he points at you, his eyes flashing, pupils dilated dangerously.

“Sorry,” you purse your lips and let your hand fall to your side, “daddy… please, let me clean you up good.”

He squints and flutters his fingers in surrender, letting his arm drape over the side of the chair. You take a breath and get closer, bending slightly to dab at his cheek as he winces. He seems annoyed but lets you wipe away the crusted blood and blot down the fresh flow.

“What are you wearing?” He snarls.

You shrug, your slobbish tee and sweats the least of your concerns. You get down to your knees and turn his arm, wiping the larger cut on his arm. You cluck, “I think you should probably get some stitches–”

“Just use the strips,” he says dismissively, “so, you’ve been enjoying your alone time…” he intones and you flinch as he touches your raw cheek, “have a good cry over that buffoon?”

You clear your throat and swallow, focusing on his arm. You take out steri strips, trying to place them along the gash. You’re no professional but it’ll have to do. He curls his fingers and the veins in his forearm bulge, the scrapes along his knuckles throbbing red as he strains them.

“Baby,” he warns.

“Sure did,” you answer as you crumple up the wrappers.

You don’t want to provoke him as he remains prickly. He reaches for the bottle again as you turn to pack up the chest. Your thoughts abandon your former melancholy, spiking with dangerous curiosity.

You go to rise and he catches the box, tossing it back on the table, nearly bowling over the bottle and glasses. He grabs your shoulder as he leans forward and smirks. “While you’re down there, sweetheart, I got a load to take off… got me?”

You look at him defiantly. There’s something about him that makes you nervous. He always irks you, always makes you uneasy, but there’s a shadow over him. The iron smell of blood tugs at your mind, is it all his own?

This is a mansion that screams blood money. The house, the bruises, the gun... this man does unthinkable things. So you won't think of them.

You move between his legs as he sits back, another long exhales as he pushes his hair back and the tension leaves his body. You place your hands on his thighs and he groans, expectation sends a shiver through him and you trail your touch up to his fly. He closes his eyes as he hangs his head back.

“Burn those fucking sweatpants,” he sneers as you pull down his zipper, “next time I get back, you’re wearing what I give you or nothing at all.”

#lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the grey man #the gray man #au #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #unsolicited

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emotionallychargedtowel · 12 days

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Sato Ryuga in Kamen Rider Geats - an overview for non-toku folks

Now that Living with Him (Kare no Iru Seikatsu) has premiered has a couple of episodes out and is getting a good response from a lot of the folks I know on here, I thought it might be a good time to do one of those posts I do sometimes. I should probably have a name for this. Like, a tokusatsu actor overview post? My imagined audience for posts like this is made up of BL fans who haven't watched toku but would like to know more about their favorite actors' pasts in that genre. But I hope they're interesting for others as well.

The tokusatsu-to-BL pipeline has been getting shorter lately, with a lot of recent toku alums getting into BLs within the first year or so after their toku series has ended. Sato Ryuga falls into this category. He was on Kamen Rider Geats, which stopped airing last August. His costar Kan Hideyoshi, who played the lead rider in that series (Ukiyo Ace, a.k.a. Kamen Rider Geats), made the leap so quickly that the BL he was in, Although I Love You, and You? a.k.a. Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka, finished airing a while ago. That show had its moments but was a bit on the lackluster side (through no fault of Kan's--I thought he was charming, funny, and showed an admirable commitment to the role). I'm a lot more hopeful about Living with Him. In addition to its promising start, it was written by the screenwriter of Old Fashion Cupcake and directed by the director of My Personal Weatherman.

But even if it weren't for these positive indicators, I would have been excited to see Sato in a BL, or just about anything. He was really impressive in Geats. He showed a lot of range on that series, handling action, high drama, and occasional comedy really well. And it doesn't hurt that he's cute as hell.

By the way, I'm going to keep the spoilers vague in this post, but I can't really avoid them entirely while doing this type of overview. If relatively mild/general spoilers don't bother you, you should be OK to continue. And of course, if you don't think you'll ever watch Geats, you don't have to worry either way.

Sato and Kan together during Keiwa's villain era.

Sato's Geats character was named Sakurai Keiwa. Keiwa starts out as a sort of proxy for the audience. The premise of Geats involves a high-stakes competition called the Desire Grand Prix where the winner gets to magically change the world. Most of the time, most people don't know this competition is going on. It's already in progress when Keiwa encounters the players for the first time and he has zero context. As he learns about the game, and ends up joining in as Kamen Rider Tycoon (a pun on the fact that his suit form is modeled after a tanuki), the audience learns about it alongside him. Keiwa comes into the story as an idealistic sweetheart so it's easy to root for him right away. (This is less true of the other characters. Geats's biggest weakness, to my mind, is that it starts out conspicuously lacking in any sort of bonds between characters or truly relatable characters other than Keiwa. This gets a lot better by the latter part of the series, but I found it somewhat rough going to get to that point, and it took longer than it needed to.)

One interesting thing about Keiwa is that you can tell a lot about what's going on with him by his hair. You'll see what I mean. I didn't notice this until I was doing screenshots for this post and then it really stood out to me.

So, here's Keiwa as a naïve newcomer. Check out the cute mop.

It doesn't take long for him to get kind of intense when he's in a fight and about to henshin (transform into his armored suit form).

Speaking of which, for the first part of the series, his pre-transformation move involves a sort of determined fist gesture, which will be important later.

This is a later example of the henshin fist, but it gets the point across.

Intense henshin face notwithstanding, he's still Mr. Nice Guy for a lot of the series. He might get a bit of a hair part but he's basically a floppy-haired cinnamon roll.

And then something bad happens.

This thing is really hard on Keiwa, and he has a dark night of the soul. He gets estranged from the other lead characters.

The hair is already going a little haywire here.

He does some creepy shit.

Then he gets into an even darker place.

Keiwa switches up his henshin move. He starts snapping his fingers, which is part of Ace's signature move. Ace is a total badass who has won the Desire Grand Prix repeatedly. He's a perpetual contender, the guy everyone else is always gunning for because he's the most likely to come out on top. I mean, his name is Ace. Adopting the snapping part of his henshin move has significant symbolism. It's like Keiwa is saying he's the new badass in town. He also has a new, stronger suit form to go along with this change.

There's a difference in the way Keiwa does the snap that's worth noting. Ace's snap move starts as a fox head hand gesture (think the rock'n'roll devil horns gesture but with a pointed snout) because Geats takes the form of a kitsune when he goes into suit mode. Keiwa's snap starts with his hand upraised, fingers up, the back of his hand facing outward. It's reminiscent of an American-style beckoning motion (the "c'mere" finger thing and its multi-finger equivalent), which I gather is considered extremely rude in Japan. This calls back to the henshin move of a favorite toku character of mine, Sawatari Kazumin/Kamen Rider Grease, who Takeda Kouhei played on Kamen Rider Build. Sawatari just straight up does the rude beckoning motion before transforming. It's a very antagonistic, cocky thing to do.

As you can see, Keiwa's hair is really going haywire at this point.

Keiwa ends up facing off with Ace more and more, including in some scenes like the one below. It doesn't really come off this way to me when I'm watching the scenes, but when I look at these screenshots, these two look about as likely to smooch as they do to come to blows.

Keiwa's hair starts to get a little less poofy at this point but the cute mop hasn't returned. Instead, his hair is almost ready to go into bad guy mode!

Finally, Keiwa tips over into full-on villain territory. This is signaled by his hair getting a defined part. He also starts wearing an earring, just for extra bad boy hotness points.

(I’ve seen this earring thing happen in Japanese media quite a few times and it always seems funny to me, because an actor will have had a very visible hole in his earlobe for a whole series and then when he puts something in it we’re supposed to be all surprised Pikachu about it. It’s an interesting commentary on the cultural significance of earrings on dudes, I guess. Now I’m trying to think of nice boys in toku who get to wear earrings in their highly visible ear holes. Kaito from Zenkaiger is one, at least. I assume there are others?)

He keeps snapping/beckoning.

The beckoning thing is clearer here, and it has that flipping off the audience energy.

He adopts some pretty cold-blooded expressions.

In some scenes, like the one seen above, he seems to have subtle makeup on. I don't know if this is because villains are supposed to be hotter or because they're supposed to be more gender non-conforming. Or both? Well, it suits him.

As you would probably guess, Keiwa doesn't stay bad. The stuff that sent him off the deep end gets resolved and his relationships with other characters get repaired. He also gets his mop back (it's only intermittently messy) and loses the earring. He goes back to his original henshin move.

There you have it! Hopefully this gets across a good bit about Sato's Geats character and some of the shifts he goes through. Of course, I've left out plenty of stuff as well. Anyone who's really curious should definitely check out the series.

#kamen rider geats #sakurai keiwa #sato ryuga #toku overview for BL watchers #living with him #kare no iru seikatsu

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whumpsday · 1 year

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Kane & Jim BBU AU #1: 100913

Kane & Jim AUs Masterlist / Next

content: bbu, pet whump, shock collar, broken dish trope

welcome to the Kane & Jim BBU AU! if you don't know what BBU is: in short, it's a shared pet whump universe a bunch of whump authors write in. more info here. as i feel it necessary to state up front to avoid confusion, everyone in this AU is human, no vampires.

@bbu-on-the-side BBU Community Days #3: Discipline

913 was a good enough pet.

He wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but he was good at most of what he needed to do, his tasks. Cleaning wasn't hard. Neither was laundry, or dishes, or caring for plants.

Cooking was especially easy, that was 913's specialty. Not only that, but he enjoyed it, too. He didn't get to enjoy a lot of things at this place. Given it was his specialty, they would probably advertise him for that. Then he could cook every day for his owner and not have to worry about anything else.

However, while the chores came easy to him, the rest didn't. The pet stuff, the things everyone had to learn no matter what kind of pet they were. The positions, and how to talk all polite, that kind of shit. The respect crap, that was where he always messed up, and that was where he got his punishments. He wasn't trying to fuck up, it was just a lot to remember at once. He could never be a platonic.

913 rubbed at his collar. He hoped his owner would get him one without shocks. Even when it wasn't activated, the prongs dug into his neck all the time, and he hated it. Made him antsy.

But he didn't have time to worry about that right now. He grabbed his bucket to take to the other side of the room and continue his mopping.

"100913," Handler Schroeder called from behind as he stepped inside. 913 startled, dropping the water-filled bucket.

Fuck.

Handler Schroeder sighed, obviously irritated, which only made everything worse.

"I'm sorry, sir," 913 mumbled as the water spread over the floor. "Uh, you snuck up on me, so I just-"

913 cut himself off with a shriek as his collar activated, white-hot electricity arcing right into the side of his neck and setting his nerves alight. He fell to his knees, soaking his pants in the soapy water.

"Is that what you're going to do with your owner?" Handler Schroeder accused. "You mess up and blame it on them? Unbelievable. If that's the case, they'll return you right back here for refurbishing, you know. Maybe I should switch your program and make you a guard dog instead."

"I'm sorry, sir," 913 repeated, quieter this time, voice choked up with tears. His eyes bored down into the floor, too afraid to steal a glance at his handler. "Please- please- let me know how I can fix it. I wanna be better. Sir."

Handler Schroeder stomped over and grabbed him by the hair, rough fingers closing in his curls and yanking, forcing him to look up. "I will."

It had been a month since 913 got bought, and he was okay.

Master de Sang was miles better than the facility, it wasn't even close. Things were fine here. 913 had his own room, and he spent most of his time looking after the estate. Master liked the meals he cooked, the very thing he'd bought him for. It was fine.

It wasn't like they told him it would be, though. Master wasn't the loving owner he'd been promised. Master was strict. Master had a temper.

He was still better, far better than the handlers. He wasn't always bad. When he was in a good mood, Master could even be nice to be around, better than being alone. Master would play cards with him, or let him watch TV with him. 913 loved the TV, giving him a view into what a person's life was like.

But Master never replaced his collar, and the prongs still dug into his neck every second of every hour of every day, even though Master didn't use the shocks. Yet.

And when Master was irritated, which was almost all of the time, 913 couldn't help but get nervous.

Today was a good day so far, at least. He stole a moment to stand in front of the kitchen window, to feel the sun on his skin. He couldn't remember what it was like to be outside, but he knows he must have been outside at some point. Before. He wonders if the sun feels different when it's not filtered through the glass.

913 let himself have just a moment to bask in its warmth before he got back to cleaning up lunch, the water running over his wrist having no effect on the barcode and number permanently etched into his skin.

As he washed the dishes, he couldn't help but wince as he heard Master stomping around upstairs. He only did that when he was upset, and when he was upset...

He tried to shake it off. Master was just on the phone. That was all.

Master came downstairs just as 913 was finishing drying everything. "Welcome back, Master!" he said, chipper and friendly despite the dread building itself inside him.

Master just scowled at him, as though the greeting had made everything worse. 913 wanted to pull his hair out and scream. He wished he'd gotten a little training in what the platonics do, complex conversations with their owners besides the basic respect and obedience. Maybe he could help Master if he did. But better a domestic than either of the other two.

"Hi," Master said flatly. He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers against it restlessly.

"Can I get you anything?" 913 asked.

"We just had lunch," Master pointed out. He wasn't looking at 913, but he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He was staring off into space like he always did when he had family troubles.

He remembered talking to one of the platonics once back in training, 418512. 512 was talking about how they were trained to sometimes be a little more casual, something that might sometimes be interpreted as disrespect. How if they stayed fully respectful all the time, it could come off as cold. Maybe that was why Master was irritated with him.

913 was pretty sure he knew what Master was upset about. It was a risk, but he decided to go for it. He made his voice as soft and sympathetic as he could.

"Is it your father, Master?" he asked quietly.

The slap rang so hard across 913's face that his ears rang. He dropped the mug he was holding, the ceramic shattering against the floor.

Master grabbed 913 by the chin as pain bloomed over his cheek. "Don't you fucking talk about my father. Don't even mention him. Got it?"

"Yes, Master," 913 squeaked, trembling in his grip.

Master threw him to the floor over the jagged pieces. "Clean this up."

He stayed down, not moving from where he was tossed even as the edges cut into his palms. "Yes, Master."

913 stayed completely still until Master left in a huff. Once he could hear the sound of his footsteps fade away, he began picking shards out of his skin, failing not to cry.

expect two more of these :)

taglist in reblog

#kane and jim bbu #kane and jim au #whump #bbucommunity #day3 #bbu #discipline #pet whump #shock collar #electrocution #break thing #my writing #whump writing

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maoxyi · 2 months

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To Let Go (pt 2)

Zoro wakes up in the middle of a village. He’s unsure of what village he ended up in nor how he got there. After a brief glance at his surroundings, he begins walking. He observes the people as they go about their everyday activities, almost uncaring towards Zoro being there. As he trudges along, vigilant and careful, he wonders if it was all a dream. He wonders if he is totally not lost. Because he’s not. Or maybe he's dead and he doesn't know it. That would be a shame. It irks him to think about. There's no way he could go down that easy. He'd never allow it. Luffy would never allow that. So he has to get back to him, even if he is dead.

He sees a bar and enters, coming face to face with a young woman with dark green hair hauling a barrel of booze. He swiftly walks over and lifts it out of her hands with ease, helping her place it in the back. As he does so, he converses with her for a little while and introduces himself. He explains that he has no idea where he is and how he got there. Asking if she could tell him. Assist him to get out so he can find his crew and captain. She smiles softly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Zoro. My name is Makino. Right now, you’re on dawn island.”

Zoro freezes. His eye wide with shock and confusion. Of course he immediately knows where he is. He's heard the story before. From him. How could he ever forget. He himself belongs in that side of the blues after all. He knows he can find who he’s looking for here. After all, a first mate should know the most about their captain. He stands and asks Makino whether she’s seen luffy. She raises an eyebrow, asking how he knows him. She’s suspicious, his brain supplies. Yet even so, there's a twinkle in her eye. One he's never seen before. It's… odd. He clears his throat.

“I promise I'm not here to hurt him. I am a friend.”

She smiles at him again. Knowing. Understanding.

“I know.”

She walks back through the door. Zoro moves to follow. He stands in the doorway as she mulls about, moving things around. She tells him that he’s outside at the harbour. He nods. He runs out and heads towards the harbour (asking people where to go along the way). Heavy footsteps sending dust up as he goes. Quick and sharp, ready for what he will find. He sees a mop of messy dark hair. He grins and calls out, seeing them stand.

He raises an eyebrow. Confusion ripples through his body as he stares down at the boy in front of him.

Luffy was a child. Not the child he first met, no. A very small child.

He’s confused. He doesn’t understand. He’s questioning him but Luffy doesn’t really know who he is. He just blinks up owlishly at him, eyes wide. He doesn’t know what’s going on.

“I know I wasn’t here.” Small Luffy says to him, “And… and I know I was somewhere else. I know you. I know Zoro. But I don’t want to go. I'm ok here. I want to stay. The future is too scary. I haven’t met him yet. I haven’t met the man I’m supposed to yet. Maybe it’s better if I don’t?”

First, Zoro thinks to himself, this isn't like Luffy. He's not like his captain. Then, Zoro notices he doesn’t have his Straw Hat. He blinks slowly down at the boy. He begins to understand what point in time this luffy is. Which Luffy it is. When this Luffy is. And in this moment, he will treat this Luffy with kindness and tenderness. If anyone, he will treat his captain alone with this softness. He smiles at him, the gentlest he has in years. Or at least he hopes so and kneels down in front of his little captain. He takes his hand into his own much bigger one.

“But luffy, don’t you want to meet so many friends? Don’t you want to help your future friends?”

“Yes but… but I don’t want to be on my own. I don’t want to do it alone..”

“You’re Never alone luffy. You have us with you. You always have and always will. We are your luffy. You’re our captain.”

“…I’m a captain?”

“You are.”

“Am I good captain?”

“The best in all the seas.”

“And Zoro is..?”

“Your first mate.” He says proudly, eye shining brightly. “The first to join you.”

“Really? That is so cool. Zoro is so cool!”

Zoro chuckles at this little Luffy and the boy looks down before he speaks again.

“… I want to stay. But I know Zoro and the others need me.”

Zoro nods, his captain's stubbornness still so strong no matter where or when they are. He grins, just as stubborn as he is but he knows that Luffy doesn't need that.

“I won’t force you to come with me luffy but I’ll stay here with you for as long as you want me to.”

“But Zoro… Zoro won’t reach his goal.”

“That’s fine by me. As long as I’m here with my captain.”

“If Zoro can’t reach his goal…” He pouts, “I want you to.”

“I won’t leave without you.”

“…grandpa won’t like it.”

“You have me to protect you.”

“…promise?”

“I swear it on the life I have given to you.”

Luffy's eyes are wide and clear as he stares into Zoro's remaining eye. There's a flame there. Zoro grins. He's got him.

“Ok. I’ll come home with you.”

Luffy takes his hand and leads him towards the forest. Before Zoro can ask where he’s taking him, he has to shield his eyes.

Luffy blinks up and catches the hat that fell from the blonde man’s head. His face splits into a wide watery grin. He holds tight as his eyes shine with tears. Marco slams into Akainu, knocking him far away from them as he fights him off. Luffy jumps and hugs the man.

“Sabo! Sabo, how did you remember?! You aren’t supposed to remember!”

“What are you talking about Lu? I was already coming to save Ace and yet I didn’t even factor in that I’d see you again this quickly. Well since last we met at Water 7 with gramps anyway.”

Luffy is confused by this because Sabo isn’t supposed to remember. Yet everyone is calm and not confused to see him. That leaves him even more confused. Sabo is… here with him. To save Ace but… he's not supposed to be. Ace comes over and crashes into the hug. He’s relieved. Luffy looks up at Sabo. He stares at his face. This is different. There is no scar.

“Come on guys, we have to go!”

He hears Usopp calling for them and without hesitation, he grabs his brother's hands and runs. He runs and runs and runs. He calls to Whitebeard a quick thank you as he goes and Whitebeard smiles at him. He looks back for a moment to see his brothers, tired and hurt but alive. His blood runs cold as he feels his movements become sluggish. He can feel his adrenaline going down, he’s tired. His head begins to throb as he runs desperately. A flash and he sees something.

A warm, calloused hand in his. A gentle smile.

…

“You’re Never alone luffy… we are yours… you’re our captain.”

…

“I know Zoro and the others need me.”

…

“I won’t leave without you.”

…

“Promise…?”

But he can’t hear the rest. His head aches. His eyes go blurry as his energy is zapped. He falls forward. Someone reaches for him. He grabs the hand and leads them away. He can feel the denial and refusal but that child took him away…

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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if we committed hypothetically accidental man slaughter how would elliot save us

No.

No. No. No

Droplets of blood drip from the knife you clutch tightly in hand; your arms covered in the same fluid - both yours and belonging to the glassy eyed figure on the floor. It was supposed to be an easy night. You got home from work and were waiting for your boyfriend to get home. You heard noises from the backdoor and foolishly thought it was him trying to prank you. He loved a good scare.. How wrong you were.

Your sobs come in hiccups; dropping the knife to the floor as you cradle yourself. You managed to get away, but he just- wouldn't stop following you. You saw his face afterall. You were able to get into the kitchen and...

You start hyperventilate. It was self defense- an accident. The tools in the man's bag not to mention his presence alone would prove your innocence, but at the end of the line- you just took another human's life. How would you look at yourself again? How would he-

Click.

Your teary eyes widen as the front door opens. Your brain commands your body to move, but you just sink to the floor. His footsteps approach.

"Y/n?"

Move.. please.

The footsteps quicken, likely due to the destruction of the living room. His voice becomes panicked. "Y/n?!"

The steps finally stop. His shadow lingers at the doorway. Elliot slowly steps into the room. It takes a moment to fully register the scene before him. His precious angel bruised and on the floor, and the bastard who hurt them lying feet away in a pool of his own blood. There's a hint of pride weaved into the storm of his rage. He remains calm walking towards you. So calm it almost scares you even more.

"Sweetheart.." He reaches out to grab your hand, but you pull away. He grabs you by the chin and forces you to look in his eyes. There's nothing in them. "Y/n, you need to look at me, and listen to every word I say."

"I... c-can't."

Elliot brushes your hair out of your face; expression softening. "You have to, or I can't make this all go away. I need you to breath, go upstairs and take a shower. Leave the door unlocked and your clothes on the floor. I have to leave for a few hours, but I'll be back?"

You panic more with each word. "What are you going to do? We should just call the police.. Don't leave me."

"Calm down." Elliot strokes your cheek. "I don't want you to think about this night longer than you have to - so we aren't telling anyone. I'm going to take care of you, but not before I take care of him.

He kisses your tears away as he embraces you. He cradles you until your sobs die out. Looking over your shoulder, he sees the body. His grip tightens.

"Y/n? I need you to do one more thing."

"What is it?"

"I know it might be hard, but you need to tell me exactly were he hurt you."

You tell him every detail of that night before heading upstairs. Elliot sweeps up broken glass and mops up blood on the tilted and wooden surfaces. Easy stuff out of the way. Staring at the body, he sighs in annoyance. He didn't bring all his tools so it would be a bit harder than usual. He felt guilty for lying to you about the real he wouldn't call the police, but the fucker had to pay.

Elliot raises his foot high and stomps down on the man's ribcage as hard as he possibly could; hitting the stab wound right between two ribs and taking great pleasure in the faint moan that comes from his lips. A scumbag like him would make the perfect star to his newest film.

#Elliot my oc #yandere oc #yandere slasher #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere insert #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

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writingintheshadowsforever · 1 year

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I Have Overprotective Girlfriends

You don't remember being knocked unconscious one minute you were taking down agents left to right. Hitting them with electric shocks, a blow to the head with your baton, and just good old-fashioned punch or kick to the face. The next thing you knew you were waking up tied to a chair with metal wire wrapped around your arms and legs. The bindings were definitely going to leave marks with the way they dug into your skin.

You let out a groan lifting your head to take in your surroundings only for a fist to slam right into right cheek. Your head snapped to the left as the bruised cheek exploded with pain.

"Hey boss the Avenger is finally awake" an unfamiliar gruff voice said.

You looked up to see a man with a large frame and a bald head dressed in a forest green T-shirt, dark pants, and combat boots. Standing in front of you with his arms crossed over chest. He regarded you with a sneer.

"Easy with the shots buddy I got overprotective girlfriends" You warned him. It earned you a blow to the stomach making you hunch over as the breath left your lungs.

A low chuckle came from behind along with approaching footsteps. "A battered face should be the least of your concerns Sparky."

"Wow really clever nickname I've only heard it a few hundred times" You gasped in a raspy voice still bent over trying to get your breathing right again. Of course the comment just caused the henchmen to attack again.

Black spots filled your vision when the back of your head made contact with the cemented floor with a sickening crunch. Your mind went blank as pain took over, and for a second you nearly lost consciousness again. The burly man had kicked you right in the chin so hard your chair went flying backward to the floor.

"Got anything else to say" The henchmen asked appearing in your line of vision cracking his knuckles.

You kept your mouth shut this time had already taken too much damage. If you were going to find a way out of this the little strength you had left needed to be preserved.

He nodded his head in satisfaction and proceeded to lift the chair to stand you upright again. His boss was waiting locking eyes with you as soon as you were facing forward again. A short stocky man with a mop of dark brown hair, and a matching goatee. He wore a dark green-white striped suit. It was as if he stepped out of some bad old gangsters movie.

You fought off the urge to grin at the getup, and cursed yourself for getting bested by the likes of this man.

"Now that you're in a listening mood let's discuss terms" The man said.

You pretended to listen to his demands but you didn't really need to. For you already knew what he wanted and the second he got in. His promise to let you live would go out the window like they always did with bad guys. He had every intention on killing you knowing you would come for him. Once you were free and all of this would end with him and his men in jail.

The metal binds on your wrist wasn't giving or loosening no matter how much you twisted your wrists. The familiar power of electricity running through your veins wasn't present. Which could only mean one thing they put some type of power damper on you. Your neck was collar free so maybe it was something smaller.

Worry started to settle in when the burly man took his boss's spot again. This was a solo mission so none of your fellow Avengers were coming to the rescue any time soon. You could take a beating but that didn't mean you wanted to.

More of his henchmen had poured of rooms you couldn't see, and started to surround you. Some were equipped with weapons from brass knuckles to chains even a few knives.

This was going to get bad if you didn't come up with a plan soon, but then a chirping noise filled the air. One you recognized all too well and your heart was overcome with joy. The chirping of the kimoyo beads were your salvation. The bracelet weren't on your wrist but resting on a brown table a few feet behind the burly man. He was looking back eyes zeroing in on the beads.

"What did you just do?" He demanded to know turning back to you. Eyes filled with rage with a hint of fear behind them.

"I have no idea what you're talking about buddy." You played dumb with a smirk shrugging your shoulders. He struck you in the nose knocking your head back.

"I'm not going to ask again"

"And I'm not going to tell you again watch the face I have overprotective girlfriends." You replied grinning despite the agony and blood running from your nose to your lips.

"You had your chan-" His words were cut off as the warehouse was thrown into darkness. Immediately a terrified scream came from your left but it was cut off just as fast. More yelps filled the air around you along with the distinct sound of steel clashing against steel. Sparks lighting up the surrounding area a few times. Giving you and the burly man a few glimpses of what was going on.

Two black streaks weaved through the warehouse taking down henchmen after henchmen. A flash of gold and silver here and there accompanied with the view of a sharp point of a spear. The burly man began to hyperventilate whirling around trying to anticipate. When the intruders were going to come for him. After two minutes the lights came back on welcoming him too. The sight of Ayo and Aneka standing on either side of you spears resting at their side. Neither of them looked too happy. The bodies of his comrades laid scattered on the floor unconscious, and his boss was slumped against the wall with his hands locked in a pair of heavy duty handcuffs.

"My love would you be so kindly to tell us who marked up your beautiful face? Ayo asked. Her tone was dangerously calm.

"The idiot standing in front of us" You answered with no hesitation. Not hiding the glee you were feeling at all.

"Wait I give up" The burly man pleaded holding up his hands while backing away. "Okay I surrender you win."

Ayo raised an eyebrow "there will be no surrendering for you."

Aneka laid her spear on the floor and crouched down behind you, and started working on freeing your hands. The burly man saw his chance whirling around to run.

Ayo let out a tsk sound stalking forward. He never stood a chance and a few seconds later. His cries of agony reached your ears.

"She's not going to kill him is she?" You asked Aneka almost feeling sorry for him. She had worked you completely free by now, and was examining the extent of your injuries.

"No Ayo knows how to show restraint even when she doesn't want to." Aneka told you pulling a handkerchief from somewhere in her armor. She pressed it to your still bleeding noise.

"Its why she went after him instead of me" she added fury in her eyes.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the comment wondering if the wailing man was truly better off in Ayo's hands than Aneka's. From the sound of his ongoing screams maybe not.

You leaned back in the chair letting your body relax as Aneka continued to take care of your injuries.

It was his own fault after all you had warned him.

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#mcu imagine #black panther imagine #ayo x aneka x reader #ayo x reader #aneka x reader #aneka imagine #ayo imagine

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