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fake-bleach · 3 months

Note

omg omg loved the derek fic so much, i’ll be anxiously waiting for part two ❤️🫶🏻

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader - part 2

thank you so much anon!!! so glad you liked it! :') hope you enjoy this part! <3

word count: 3.5k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), one reference to being high, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), making out/kissing, hickeys on reader, explicit consent, descriptive fingering & oral (f receiving), overstimulation (in a way), filthy dirty talk, praise w/ hardly any degradation, established control by derek, tiny bit angsty, cute fluff w/ a happy ending <3

for the biggest derek fucker i know, @sugarevans: i hope you love it just as much as i loved writing it for you 🤍

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 1 here! a lot of things might not make sense if you haven't :)

You never thought you’d ever be in this position.

Making out with Derek Danforth; hands gripping every inch of your body, high out of your mind, is something most wouldn’t ever imagine doing.

Yet, here you were, doing just that.

And hell, was it better than you ever imagined.

His lips were like fire on yours, burning you up and up the more he hungered for your kiss and touch. He was eager; desperate to taste you and everything you had to offer, something that he’s wanted for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he first saw you, he knew what he wanted, and now that he could finally have it? Nothing was stopping him.

“D-Derek,” You gasped once his lips pulled away from yours, giving you a second to breathe as your back pressed into the luxurious couch, his body on top of you, “You’re okay with this, right?”

You wanted to make sure, despite how eager you were yourself. You couldn’t help but overthink it, fighting between not wanting to give yourself to the selfish man in front of you, and wanting to give yourself up completely.

Now, all of those months convincing yourself that you didn’t want him were for nothing.

And, God, were you fucking okay with that.

He gave you a grin, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head, almost as if you were crazy for even asking him that. “Been waiting for this forever, baby.. ‘Course I fucking am,” He breathed out, pressing kisses on your lips that slowly began to trail downwards; to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending chills throughout your entire body.

You were sensitive when it came to his touch, and along with his kisses, his wandering hands couldn’t help but feel for every single part of you. One of his forearms held him up, keeping him steady as the other reached for your jaw, lifting your head up so he could have more access to your skin.

You shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck, forcing a light moan out of your mouth as he started to suck and lick, warning you of a feeling that was all too familiar.

You breathed heavily, letting out a small, “Wait,” as you attempted to relax. “I c-can’t.. go out like that if you.. do that,” You protested, hoping he understood what you meant.

And that, he did.

He pulled away for a split second, eyes looking up at you as he asserted himself confidently, the same Derek you’ve always known. “Yeah, you can, baby. Need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine now. That clear?”

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to protest again, but you don’t get very far. He tuts his tongue, expressing his disapproval as the action forces your mouth shut, “Nuh uh. You’re gonna let me do this, sweetheart. Been waiting too long now,” The hand on your jaw grips it just enough to make you focus on him, “Do I make myself clear?” He says, pausing with each word to enunciate it.

You nod immediately, every ounce of resistance you had in you disappearing as butterflies filled your stomach.

Normally, you’d put up a fight and maybe even walk out of a circumstance like this; But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

The Derek that just takes and takes. Nothing you can say no to, and willingly, you’d allow.

“Need to hear you,” He instructs, voice stern as his eyes lock into yours. Derek may be the type to always want control, but he wouldn’t ever do anything you weren’t completely okay with.

You exhale softly and nod again, complying, “Crystal clear.” Your eyes flicker from his lips, lingering there for a moment before finding his eyes again, “Make me yours.”

The strict expression on his lips immediately shifts into a smirk, those words giving him every ounce of motivation to finish what he started.

He pushes himself up for a second and presses one long kiss to your lips, filthy and passionate as ever, muttering, “That’s my girl,” before finding himself back on your neck, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months.

With your heavy breaths and gasps of his name filling his ears, he accomplishes the task easily; leaving a trail of hickeys all around your neck and cleavage, hands gripping your tits through your shirt. The swelling of the marks that his lips captivate leave you wanting more.

More than just his lips.

You take the chance to stop him, gently pushing his head away as you whine softly, “Need more, Derek.”

He shushes you, nearly reading your mind as he begins to lower himself, keeping eye contact with you. He lifts your shirt up as he moves, exposing your stomach to press kisses along the skin, until he finally reaches the one spot he’s fantasized about for so long.

The action and the thought of what he might do to you leaves your body shuddering, anticipating his next move. You’d let him do anything he wanted now.

He slowly unbuttons your pants, taking his time as if his eyes were memorizing every second of it. You help him slip them off, lifting your hips so he can easily remove them, the cool air in the room hitting your exposed skin. You feel yourself grow wetter, desperate for him to do something, anything to you.

He takes no time to waste putting your pants aside, kneeling in between your thighs and spreading your legs. His gaze flickers from your face down to your panties, chest moving up and down as he processes the sight in front of him; your darkening eyes, legs wide open for him.

Oh, what a beauty you are.

You await his next move, biting your bottom lip as you feel your core tighten, and he finally moves; taking his hand and sliding his fingers over your clothed cunt just for a second, feeling you for the first time. You shudder, gasping at his touch as your arousal seeps through your panties. You’re growing impatient, squirming with need.

“F-Fuck, Derek, touch me, please,” You whine, hips moving a bit to get any type of friction. He just presses down on your stomach, keeping you still as he tuts. “Shh, baby. Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you. Make you feel real good, yeah?” He states, using his other hand to cup it over your cunt.

It makes you gasp, body shaking from the sudden contact again. You press your lips together, quickly nodding as you accept his terms. You couldn’t possibly say no, anyways.

“Now,” He pauses, “Close that pretty mouth of yours n’ take what I give you,” He mutters sternly, but he isn’t done. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m gonna do to you, and you’re gonna be a good girl for me. Is that right?” He asks, fingers rubbing ever so softly against you.

You nod, shakily agreeing as you hold back from moving, “T-That’s right.”

He grins. “Good. You’re real pretty when you listen to me.”

You breathe shakily, stomach fluttering from his words and watching as he lowers to lay himself directly in between your thighs, hands now gripping them with his head facing you.

“Am I not when I don’t?” You retort, taking your chance to bite back.

He chuckles, “You know you’re more than pretty, baby.. I just like you like this more.”

You wouldn’t expect any less from him and his need for you.. And, if anything? It makes you want to be more like this for him.

“Giving yourself up to me..” He hums, caressing your thigh sensually and slowly, eyes devouring you, “Now, doesn’t that feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, his thumb slides from your inner thigh to slip underneath your panties, feeling for your slick slit as you hiss at the sudden contact, skin to skin. Fuck, he was unpredictable.

You gasp softly, walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. The way he was talking to you.. It was driving you crazy.

“No more talking back, no more excuses.. Now that I got you like this, honey. Just how it should be.. How you’re meant to be.” He continues, making your heart race. You were giving yourself up to him the more he spoke; the more he made you realize just how much you needed him, too.

The powerful, superior version of yourself.. crumbling all by the hands of the man who wants to see you break.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart..” He tells you, eyes on your face as his thumb slides through your folds, “’M gonna eat you out and make you cum on my tongue..”

The tip of his thumb sinks inside of you, forcing a moan out of your mouth. You need more, breathing heavily as you process his words, envisioning all the things he’s putting inside of your head.

“And then, I’m gonna do it.. Again, and again, until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb then slips out of you, moving and using his fingers to hook itself at the hem of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. It’s quick and seamless, leaving you completely exposed for him, legs spread wide enough for him to fix on your glistening core immediately.

His fingers glide in between your throbbing lips, soaked beyond your control as he grunts at the sight and feeling. “Fuck yeah, baby.. So fuckin’ wet, shit.”

He can hardly control himself, slowly inserting two of his thick, long fingers inside of you, the lewd sound coaxing a laugh out of his throat. He pumps his fingers deliberately, eyes indecisive on where to linger; your face or your cunt. He picks the latter, gaze fixed on your walls gripping his digits, memorizing the way you take them, squelching and slick with your arousal.

Your pants drive his movements faster, moaning his name softly as your core tightens each time his fingers slowly begin to fill you to the hilt, knuckle-deep inside of you.

You whine loudly, incoherent noises escaping your lips as you look down at him, squirming. “There we go, baby.. Look at how good you’re takin’ it.. pretty pussy begging for more.” He praises, taking his sweet time to pull his fingers out of you, watching how your hole closes from how empty you are.

Before you can register the feeling, he leans forward, sticking out his tongue to lick a stripe against your folds, the tip of it hitting your swollen clit. It makes your body jolt, the shock of the sensation igniting your nerves. It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve felt this good.

He moans out, breath hitting your cunt as it sends shivers down your spine. “Tastes fuckin’ good, baby.. Gonna fuck you with my tongue now, yeah?” He mutters, words hardly coherent enough for you before he latches his mouth around your clit, sucking it softly.

You cry out at the feeling, involuntarily squirming away as it overwhelms you. He was so fucking quick; desperate and needy. Before you could pull away from him, his arms wrap around your thighs, roughly pulling you close. He traps you with his hold, tongue now exploring your folds and devouring you like a starved man.

“Derek! O-Oh, fuck!” You groan, shutting your eyes tightly as your body overtakes you, short and quick breaths filling his ears. You feel him chuckle, sending small vibrations through your core as he slides his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out of you. His thumb then moves up to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against it, wanting to feel you shake.

And, you do, as your walls clench around his tongue, body writhing hastily, overwhelmed with pleasure and that familiar build growing inside of you. Your hand reaches for his hair, gripping the bleached locks that give you a single ounce of control.

Your grasp allows you to push his face further into your cunt, grinding yourself against his mouth as you chase your high, crying his name out as if it were the only word you knew. Your stomach fills with warmth, breaths quickening as you cum shakily on his tongue without any warning.

You moan out his name one last time, convulsing around him as you increasingly grow sensitive, releasing your grip on his hair. He doesn’t let up though, and your nerves gradually become delicate, forcing a whine out of you; a protest. “N-No.. No more, Derek, fuck, I c-can’t, please.” You stammer out, trying to writhe away from his grasp.

He only takes a second to pull away from you, shaking his head disapprovingly as he pulls you back to him, reestablishing his grasp on your thighs even tighter than before.

He looks up at you, eyes hungry for more, “That was only one, honey. Not enough. C’mon, know you can give me another, yeah.. Just one more..” He encourages you, using one of the hands wrapped around your thigh to give it small rubs, soothing your trembling body.

Your body involuntarily twitches, overstimulated from your first orgasm and the continuous contact on your skin. You just nod at him though, letting out a small “okay” so he can verbally hear it; something you’re starting to know that he likes from you.

He grins up at you, evidently satisfied at your actions. “There we go, you’re getting it now.. Such a good fucking girl.”

His praises cause your face to heat up, his approval of you becoming the one thing you never thought you’d need from him.

Turns out, you’re finding out a lot of things about yourself tonight that you didn’t know.

You take a deep breath in preparation, watching one of his arms unrestrain your thigh, hand moving towards your core. He glances back to your face, then to your pussy, pressing the tip of his index and middle finger to your entrance. You watch his face as he licks his lips, pressing them in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow.

You whine, the force of his fingers making your walls constrict around them, and your heart beats rapidly everywhere. You’re still tight, and he can feel it too.

He lets out a laugh as his eyes flicker to your face to watch it twist, and it feels mean. “You’re still so fucking tight, holy shit,” He chuckles again, fingers pulling out of you to rest against your hole, and shoving it back in deliberately. You cry out his name, incoherent words spilling out of your lips as you squirm away from him again.

He mutters out, “No, no, no, stay here, baby, come on,” and his large arm reaches to grip your waist, pulling you back to him once again. His forearm stays against your stomach now, pinning you into the couch so you can’t possibly move away. “Yeah, yeah, there y’go.” He draws out.

“Just gotta let yourself go, sweetheart.. Don’t fight it, c’mon..”

Your eyes shut tightly, and you listen to him, letting yourself go. The control in your body begins to fade, and he takes it as a sign to continue; fucking his thick fingers back into your cunt with an increasing pace and force.

You feel so full with him, but just as you think that, he adds a third finger, stretching you out further as he quickens his thrusts.

The lewd noises fill the room, your soaked folds flowing onto his hand and growing louder the faster he moves. Your pussy takes his fingers eagerly, engulfing them seamlessly. “Wish you could see what I’m seein’, honey.. Your cunt gripping every inch of my fucking fingers, fuck, so fuckin’ pretty. Doing so good, baby, I know it feels so good, huh?” His words are too much for you, along with his fingers moving so fast from how soaked you were.

They start to pound into that one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you convulse around them, body twitching, but hardly affecting Derek from his harsh grip on you. It keeps you still for him, never stopping his moves as he lets out whispers of encouragement to you, praising you absentmindedly and breathing heavily against your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, baby, cum on my fucking fingers, please.” He whines out, his hips grinding against the couch, almost as if he was getting off to your own pleasure. You shake against him, chest heaving up and down as that heat in your core builds and builds, finally releasing as you climax with his name on your tongue.

You nearly scream it, unable to control yourself as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your walls clenching around his fingers over and over again uncontrollably. He stops his movements now, letting you come down from it slowly, pulling his fingers out of you as you tremble.

As you take deep breaths, heartbeat slowing, you flutter your eyes open to look at Derek, watching as he inserts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. He pulls them out with a pop and moves himself to lay over you, using his clean hand to move your hair out of your face.

He praises you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead with his eyes looking at you with so much pride. “Did so fucking good for me, baby. Knew you could do it, fuck yeah.” He hums, now pressing a kiss to your lips.

You accept it greedily, placing your hands on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Your feelings for him were overwhelming; one night of pleasure causing you to confront every thought & emotion you’ve ever had of him. And the way he was treating you now? God, it made it even harder for you to feel subtle about it.

And, maybe.. Just maybe.. it was because he was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

But, despite how sensitive you were, you couldn’t help but want more. And besides, you wanted him to feel good too, after bringing you so much satisfaction.

“Thank you, Derek.. B-But, what about you?” You asked shakily, body still trembling from your peak. He shook his head, caressing your face gently as he spoke, “Nah, baby, this was all about you.. It’s always been.. about you. To make you feel good.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head yourself, in denial of it all. Did he really care for you this much?

Before you can ask him anything, he continues, spilling out every ounce of vulnerability he could allow himself to. “Took my chance after waiting all these months. I couldn’t just let myself be so.. selfish.. Not this one time.. Yeah?” He cocked his head, trying to see if you understood or not. He seemed almost jittery; nervous and anxious to even be telling you this.

You knew he was taking such a big leap to be telling you these things.. To be acting this way.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you at all.

You took the chance to joke with him, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Derek Danforth.. Not.. being selfish? Never thought I’d see the day.” You giggled, hoping he’d take it how you intended it to.

His head lowers to look down at your hands on him for a second, licking his lips as he takes his time to think about what to say to you. He takes a deep breath, looking back up at you as he sighs out.

“I’m trying..” He pauses, inhaling sharply, “Not.. to be.”

Your smile fades from your face, lips parting as you take in his words. It hits you, making you realize just how much he’s trying.

“At least.. Not with you, baby,” He purses his lips, swallowing, “Don’t wanna be selfish with you.. Not.. not anymore.”

You give him a small, gentle smile, nodding slowly in hopes to encourage him. You want him to open up to you; it’s all you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Derek, I..” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I know I.. I’ve been an asshole, to everyone, to you.. But, I don’t wanna be the guy.. That doesn’t deserve you anymore,” He admits quickly, almost wanting to rush it out before he bails out on it.

“I-I.. want to be the guy that does.”

He finally confesses it.. the one thing that’s been holding him down; the one thing that he’s finally managed to realize.

It wasn’t just you that captivated him.

It was the drive to change for you that did.

You let out a relieving breath, shutting your eyes as you press a passionate, genuine kiss on his lips. He takes it gratefully, sighing into your mouth as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off his shoulders.

You pull away from him, grinning as your glazed eyes glimmer at him.

“That’s a start, baby.. You’re already a mile ahead of that.” You tell him, honest and real; vulnerable yourself.

Maybe, Derek Danforth was more than capable of change.

Maybe.. Derek Danforth wasn’t so selfish after all.

Now, it was your chance to find out.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i loved writing this and i might add onto it when writing for derek again to stay in this little world! :)

feedback & reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth fic #derek danforth smut #derek danforth x reader smut #derek danforth fanfiction #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfiction #mike schimdt x reader #peeta mellark x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson characters #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson character fic #josh hutcherson x you #fake-bleach #my writing

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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

Text

Genuine

I apologize it took me almost 2 months to write bcus I hate discussing feelings that much Warnings: v self indulgent like this some self-discovery type stuff

@vhstown (also lmk if you wanna be tagged or something)

Your book slipped from your lap as you laughed and failed to catch your breath.

Hobie, the source of your amusement, started at you stale faced. Unfortunately for him, this only made you laugh harder.

“Wait,” you gasped out, still trying to catch your breath.

He continued to sideye you as he spoke, “Yeah it’s hilarious, nearly drowned in the Thames, but as long as you’re amused.”

You managed to contain your giggles enough to get your breathing under control and you leaned on his shoulder looking up at him with your best innocent look.

“I’m so happy you didn’t die, darling,” you said, trying your best to copy his accent.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but you could see the small smile he was failing to hide.

You grinned mischievously and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Hobie Brown, punk extraordinaire, trips into the River Thames mid performance; sounds like a headline. Oh wait…it is one.”

You cackled at your joke, but stopped when he pushed you and you nearly fell into a candle.

“Hobart Brown! I could’ve burned myself.”

“Thought you would’ve laughed it off since you find near-death experiences amusing.”

You snickered and shook your head, “You are so dramatic.”

“Nah, you’re just heartless.”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” you asked.

He glared at you instead of responding.

You gasped, “you don’t?”

He scoffed, “‘Course I do, but I was fifteen and pissed out my mind.”

“So you flailed around like little girl? sounds like a serious lack of survival instincts to me.”

He lunged for you and you reared back, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but he sat back down.

You smirked and muttered, “for now.”

His head jerked back to you and you gave him another innocent look.

He just shook his head at you again.

You watched him for a moment before remembering what you were doing before you nearly laughed yourself to death.

You had rambled to Hobie a week ago about wanting to make a reading nook where you could sit with a blanket and read your favorite books.

After you complained about being bored earlier in the day, he invited you to hang out on his boat and the two of you spent about two hours finding all of his books and making a fort.

It was cramped, and the height of the stacked books made you slightly claustrophobic, but it was still cozy. And it’s not like you hated being close to Hobie.

The candles were his idea, even though you told him it was a fire hazard.

You found your book you dropped, and dusted it off before finding your spot to pick up where you left off.

You found your focus shifting from the book to the conversation you two just had.

Everyone has been embarrassed at least once in their life, It shouldn’t have surprised you like it did.

Hobie was human, humans get embarrassed.

But still…

“Can’t read your mind.”

Hobie’s voice interrupted your thoughts and he turned towards you.

“Hm?” You asked.

“You got a question. Can tell by the way the your looking,” He tilted his head and gave you a lazy smirk. “It’s easier to tell when people with smaller brains are gearing up for a question, their brain can’t really contain it.”

You roll your eyes. You did have a question, but the reason he knew that wasn’t because your brain is small.

Not everyone can be genius.

“Ok. Why are you living in a boat if you had such a mortifying experience with water? I mean personally, I wouldn’t-

You’re cut off by your own laughter as you leap up and dodge him as he lunges for you again.

You’re fast as you dart away, but his legs are longer and he’s much more agile. You almost knocked a candle over trying to get up.

Should’ve ignored his suggestion for those.

He catches up to when you run into the door leading out to deck, bumping your hip harshly into the frame.

He saves you before you can faceplant into the many plants and flowerpots he has cluttering the deck.

You groan as you try to catch your breath, trying in vain to rub out the sting in your hip.

Hobie doesn’t aid in your efforts at all. He digs his long fingers into your ribs as you laughed breathlessly and tried to dodge his fingers.

He doesn’t let up when you trip over your own feet trying to back away from him.

He smoothly slows down your fall, somehow managing to keep a good grip on you even though his fingers are constantly moving and you’re squirming like hell. Stupid guitarist hands.

Speaking of, the rhythm he’s strumming into your ribs is akin to the song he was playing earlier…

“Ok,” you gasp, “I give up I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t let up at all.

“Nahh, it’s a bit late for that, where’s all that energy from before huh?”

“It’s gone” you grit out, still tying, in vain, to squirm away.

“Hobie pleaseee,” you beg. Well it was more of a wheeze.

He continues spidering his fingers up and down your ribcage, pretending to give thought to your plea. “Don’t know if I can do that love, still haven’t heard a good apology.”

You whine and squirm a little more but eventually give in.

“Ok, ok I'll apologize," you gasp out and he leans back, finally.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure the performance was amazing and the dive just amplified it. Y’know the unpredictable nature of punks and that?”

He snorts and stands to his feet, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

“Your apology was still rubbish, but you recovered in the end.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned into his chest, still panting like a dog.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you even closer, softie.

You finally regain control of your lungs and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of leather and scented smoke wafting off of Hobie, you probably smelled the same considering the candles.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and you knew he was probably still waiting on you to ask your question from earlier.

“I was surprised that you got embarrassed.” You muttered out, feeling a bit stupid as you did so.

He pulled back slightly and gave you a confused look. You sighed and pulled back further turning to lean against the very short railing wrapping around the deck. Yet another hazard, if he wasn’t careful he might fall off this boat.

“I know it’s kinda dumb, but I was surprised. I mean embarrassment kinda requires you to care what people think and you being you…” You trailed off.

He nodded and tilted his head back and forth a few times before responding, “I don’t care what they think, but feelings don’t really respond to logic.”

"No they certainly don't," you mumble.

You can't really describe the tightening in your chest and the pressure in your brain, and you don't really want to.

Unfortunately for you...

Hobie knocks his knuckles against your forehead, wordlessly communicating exactly what he emans.

You roll eyes and take another deep breath before you respond.

"You wear everything on your sleeve; everything about you screams-genuine. And sure you've got a lot of other things going on but you don't...hide. I just don't understand it I guess. Not everybody does that and-

"I don't hold a grudge against you for it."

You're not surprised at the interruption, more at the fact that he read you so well.

You grimace and look away to gather yourself before you speak again.

"I-I know that but sometimes I worry."

He hums and pulls your hands into his, fidgeting with the ring he made that rests on your middle finger.

You're grateful for the distraction and direct your eyes down to your connected hands as you continue.

"I don't wanna say the wrong thing, and you not even be able to get what I mean because I can't...show it."

You shrug and let your hands fall out of his, subconsciously closing yourself off while you try to breathe through the straining in your sternum.

He places his hands on your shoulder and gently rubs his hands up and down your arms. It's not that you need to be warmed up, but the action calms you down and breathing becomes much easier.

You look up at him and he gives you that stupid smirk of his.

The one that made you fall in love with him.

"I've known you for a while now doll; you think you're closed off and cold, but you're not. You're a lil' emotionally stunted-"

You roll your eyes, while his twinkle.

"But I don't fault you for it. What's the point in being the same anyway, weren't made for it y'know? You're plenty expressive; I can see it in your eyes, in your body language, in that little lip twist you do when you're trying to be nice."

He brings you closer to him, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other one the railing behind you.

"You've let me in, I'm not going anywhere."

You give him a small smile and he matches it before tilting your chin up and leaning down to give you a kiss.

You return it and your smile widens when you pull away.

It drops in the very next second when you hear thud from inside the boat and the distinct sound of fire scorching paper.

Your eyes widen and you push away from to run back inside.

You bump your hip on the door frame again but you ignore the pain and scramble to put out the fire that's singed your book.

Luckily, you caught it before it could really spread and only the corner of the book is burnt.

Hobie snorts from the doorway and you turn to glare at him.

"Well I've got a idea of what you're feeling now."

You huff and shake your head, " I told you it was a fire hazard."

He shrugs, "It was pretty. 'Sides you've got quick reflexes; you caught it in time."

You smirk and toss the book to the ground, better to not have anything in your hands when you run.

"Yeah I do, they're really quick. I definitely wouldn't have have tripped off a boat and forgot I knew how to swim."

As soon as you finish your sentence you take off, and damn him for being a giant because he's right on your heels.

i did it 😭😭😭✊🏾

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown fic #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown #fromphoetou

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Note

Hello!! Could you do a fluffy Rhys x reader fic where reader has a bad habit of over working themself? Like they have a fear of letting people down if they don’t get it done or a fear of failure? Maybe a dash of praise in there🫡🫡

I have the worst habit of overworking myself simply because I am the youngest and always held up to expectations of my older siblings. It has also developed the need for perfection in my work.

sometimes I swear you guys can read my mind. I'm also a youngest child and my anxiety has been exhausting me lately so this was nice to write 💜

Just Rest

Rhys x Reader fluff

warnings: a lil suggestive hehe

You hung your aching head in your hands, hoping you could somehow will the exhaustion from your body as the book in front of you faded in and out of focus. You’d been at this for - what time was it? Rubbing your eyes, you glanced up at the clock on the wall to see it was past ten at night. You had been in here for almost fourteen hours with minimal breaks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

You had to find the answer in one of these texts - otherwise, you were a failure to your Court. With a sigh, you tied your hair up in a bun - thanking the house when it blessed you with another cup of tea, savoring how the warm cup soothed your cold, aching hands.

You set down the cup, blinking your eyes to regain focus as you aimed to find where you’d left off in the book. The sound of soft footfalls interrupted your focus, a familiar voice sounding from behind you as your mate purred, “what are you still doing in here, darling?” You turned your head just in time for Rhys to place a kiss to your cheek, wrapping his arms around you as he peered over your shoulder at the cluttered desk.

You sighed, holding his hands that were crossed over your chest. “I’ve been looking for any lead on how Koschei’s forces made it through our wards, but I haven’t found anything in all of these books.” You gestured to the stacks surrounding you - the overflow of information that you had been forcing yourself to absorb over the countless hours.

Rhys sighed, holding you tighter as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “I think that a break would do you some good, darling.” You twisted around in your seat, giving him an incredulous look. “Rhys, I can’t stop! If I don’t find some answers... I need to contribute.”

Quirking an eyebrow at you, Rhys circled around to sit on the edge of the desk. With one long finger, he tilted your chin to look at him - power emanating from those violet eyes as he spoke. “You ‘contribute’ more than enough. You make this Court and my life a better place, and right now the best thing you can do for us is to let me take care of my beautiful mate.”

You nearly melted at his words, the praise you didn’t realize you had been needing. Tilting your head to rest your cheek in his hand, you sighed and nodded up at him. “Good girl,” Rhys cooed, running his thumb across your lower lip as he smirked down at you. Heat pooled in your core at his praise, and you found yourself entranced by your mate.

Quickly standing up from the desk, Rhys kicked out your chair, startling you as he reached down and picked you up bridal style. You giggled, relaxing into Rhys’s strong arms as he carried you over to the sitting area by the fire. He laid you down on the sofa, lifting up your legs as he sat at your feet facing opposite you.

“Lean back, darling,” he spoke softly as he watched to make sure you nestled into the pillows behind you. Rhys took your foot in his hands, and began gentling massaging the sore appendage. Despite how good it felt, you attempted to protest. “Rhys, I’ve been walking around here all day, my feet are filthy!” With a feline smirk, Rhys lifted your leg, pressing a kiss to your ankle - his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh darling, I plan to do much filthier things to you later,” he purred, sending you a mental image of exactly what he meant.

Struggling to keep your breathing steady, you slowly leaned back against the pillows and tried to relax. Rhys continued massaging your feet, and the last thing you remembered before falling asleep was his whispered praises as he moved to massage your legs.

You woke up to a shift in the bed, finding that Rhys had brought you upstairs while you were sleeping. “Shh, it’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep,” he murmured as he slipped under the covers. You shifted over, snuggling into Rhys’s side as you threw a leg over his waist, promptly falling back to sleep for a good night’s rest.

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter five: called you again

summary: you and carmy try your best to repair the relationship... but it only leads to distance. you both make the mistake thinkin' the other is better of without you. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: angst, death, grief, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language

word count: 3.5k

listen to: supercut - lorde | speechless - lady gaga | call me back - young the giant | called you again - lizzy mcalpine

a/n: while i felt like i was dropping an emotional bomb on you with the last chapter, i didn't know it would have such an emotional impact. i just wanted to share that i write so much from my own experiences -- perhaps why some of the chapters feel so realistic. anyways, thank you for all of your kind words in regards to the last chapter. i didn't want to write the phone call, since after this part, 'make my heart surrender' begins / i write a bit of it in that story / it really made for a spicy dramatic ending.

on another note: it's me, hi! i broke my own heart writing this. high key like... i feel like i'm going through a breakup right now (i'm not). the next part will be a big time jump: it takes place after right after 'make my heart surrender' ends, where reader has just moved to chicago for carmy so you'll be glad to hear that i'm done hurting you and myself.

read: chapter four

April 2022

“Seriously, Carmy. I can’t thank you enough. You really saved the day,” Maya harps, reminding Carmy for the 100th time today that he single-handedly saved Passover.

“It’s nothin’ really,'' Carmy mumbles with a shrug. “I’m uh… gonna finish cleaning up in the kitchen. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure I can’t help?” Maya asks, giving him one last chance to say ‘yes.’

“No, it’s all good. I got a whole system,” he explains, a reassuring look in his eyes.

“Of course,” Maya replies, bowing out of the conversation.

She walks through her home towards the open double terrace doors that lead out onto the patio. You’re outside, shifted to one side of the large outdoor dining table, your focus unbroken as you stack empty plates, one on top of the other.

“Hey,” you say to her, a warm nostalgia about the way the spring air kisses your bare shoulders.

“So… Carmy really came through,” she starts, watching you for your reaction.

“Yeah, he did,” you reply simply, as if it’s just fact.

Maya half expects for you to say more, but she knows it’s been weird between the two of you since you slept together. She’s not sure why, but she’s always rooted for Carmy. Perhaps because you light up every time he’s around – every time you talk about him. Perhaps because she sees the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks you’re not looking. Because, even though he’s deeply imperfect, you’re good for him – and he, you.

“It’s all for you, you know,” she says, growing bolder in her reminder.

Her words stop you in your tracks. You stop working on the pile of dishes you’re creating, taking a moment to look up at your friend.

“Why do you think that?” you ask quietly.

“Because he took the night off to be here,” she answers, checking to make sure Carmy isn’t listening. “I mean, when have any of us seen him take any time off? He’s not doing it for me. I just think… it seems like he’s really making an effort to mend things.”

You nod slowly, processing what she’s just said. Carmy, in an effort to try to mend things, had joined you for a drink with some of your mutual friends from the restaurant. As Maya had lamented about the caterer falling through for her Passover dinner, he’d more than eagerly offered to step in, surprising all of you.

“Maybe,” you shrug, trying not to get your hopes up. “I don’t know. It’s still not the way it used to be.”

“Well of course it’s not!” Maya exclaims with a laugh. She sighs out your name, shaking her head as she continues. “You guys are… of course that would change things.”

“I think it’s just going to take a while…” you explain, your voice soft. “I uh. I should take these in.”

You collect your pile of dishes, heading back inside into the kitchen. You know you’re avoiding having the conversation with Maya, but the distance between you and Carmy has been so tough on you. It wasn’t until you took some space from him that you realized just how big of a part he’d been playing in your life. And now, he was grieving, and you’d both crossed the line that had complicated things.

It all just felt… messy.

As you enter the kitchen, you see Carmy standing there. He’s staged the kitchen for the most efficient dishwashing: one half of the sink is filled with to sanitize, the other to rinse, before loading up the dishwasher. You place the first stack of plates down on the kitchen island, making a sound that doesn’t even seem to grab Carmy’s attention. He doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t acknowledge the sound, so you decide to keep moving things in from outside instead.

You’ve managed to get all of the dirty dishes from the terrace into the kitchen, Carmy giving you a nod as he’d instructed you to place them down on the counter for him.

You put your focus on packing up leftovers in deli containers and making sure all the food that needed to be has been put away. Carmy’s loaded up the dishwasher but he’s got at least a dozen wine glasses that he knows need to be hand washed. You notice that he’s taking a break, pushing yourself to ask him, as if it’s going to be your only chance to.

“How are you?” you say, instantly regretting it as the words come out of your mouth.

He shrugs, unsure of how to answer the question, leaning up against the kitchen counter. You think it’s the only answer you’re going to get as he crosses his arms across his chest. You continue packing up the equipment that you and Carmy have brought over, while he manages to steal a few glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

He’s not sure what to say.

Hell, he doesn’t even know how he feels about it.

But something inside him is begging him to tell you – as if telling you will give him some kind of resolution. Like he’ll know what to do. Like telling you will bring him the comfort he’s so desperately been craving.

He opens his mouth to say something, noticing that you’ve kept yourself busy – almost as if you’re trying to stay out of his way.

He hates this.

He hates that you feel you have to tiptoe around him.

“Mikey left me the restaurant,” he confesses, the words tumbling out of his mouth like five hundred pounds of bricks.

“Oh wow,” you gasp, taking in what he’s said.

He nods, pausing before he speaks again. And it’s the first time he’s said it out loud to anyone:

“I think it’s time for me to go home.”

You don’t say anything back, because you’re not sure what to say back. You know he hadn’t gone home for the funeral, despite your insistence.

Why now? What did this mean? What would this mean? And when did he find out about the restaurant? You can’t help but feel like everything's falling apart, like this is the end. While you know he has to go home – you’re honestly surprised it’s taken him so long to come to this conclusion – it’s impossible not to feel your heart shattering into pieces.

Carmy was going to leave. You were going to stay. And you didn’t know where that left the two of you.

“Can I help – with the wine glasses?” you ask, focusing on the task at hand.

Focusing on the glasses may be the only thing that keeps you from crying.

“Yeah,” he nods, and you know it’s his way of trying to connect.

You work quietly, the only sounds in the background are the dinner party playlist that’s playing on a loop through the home’s speakers. You wash and Carmy dries, knocking out the remaining dishes that need to be hand washed, before packing up to go. Maya, of course, thanks Carmy again and again, while her partner, Patrick, compliments the meal, letting Carmy know he’s got to get some cooking tips from him.

As the two of you walk out of the door, brown paper bags loaded up with empty delis and equipment that you brought over to the house, Carmy stops before either of you can go your separate ways.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy asks you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You nod, “Yeah.”

May

Hope you’re doing okay. How’s home?

It’s about the third text you’ve sent to Carmy since he left New York. After letting you know he’d made it safely, you hadn’t heard from him at all. Sure it’s only been a couple of weeks, but it’s like as soon as he let you know he’d made it safe, he’d cut you off cold. To say that you’re angry would be an understatement.

You’re really fucking pissed off.

And you also know that underneath all that anger, is a fuck ton of hurt that you’d really rather not acknowledge – that you’re not ready to feel yet.

You don’t know how he’s able to turn it off – just pretend that the last two and half years haven’t been significant. That you haven’t practically been attached at the hip since the lockdown. That you’re not best friends who also just so happen to maybe be in love with each other.

Somehow, Liz has coaxed you out after a long night at the restaurant for a round of drinks with your coworkers. Something about a need to blow off some steam. Only a round has turned into many, and you just might have had one too many to forget about the searing pain you feel when you think about the fact that you may never hear from Carmy again. You’re waiting for your next drink at the bar, making a mental note that this has to be your last.

“How’s Berzatto these days?” you hear a voice ask, turning your head as you realize someone’s joined you at the bar.

“Uh.. yeah, I think he’s been really busy. You know… with the family restaurant. Getting adjusted, you know?” you lie to Nate, pretending that you’ve been in contact with him.

Nothing would sting more than to admit to Nate fucking Walker that Carmy’s ghosted you.

Nate laughs cooly, with a shake of his head.

“He hasn’t called you, has he?” he asks.

You don’t answer. But your silence is the only answer Nate needs to confirm his suspicions.

“Listen, can we just talk about something else?” you dismiss him, watching as the bartender returns with your drink.

The rest of your friends have started a game of pool, but you’re not in the mood for it tonight. Nate asks you to sit, so you do. You hate to admit it, but the attention feels nice, especially with how much you miss Carmy. It burns in your chest tonight, leaving you breathless. You’d rather be numb than feel this much pain.

You’re not sure how the conversation turns back to Carmy after an hour or so of conversation with Nate. Even though you said you didn’t want to talk about him. Even though you can see that Nate’s tired of hearing about him. You can’t help yourself when it comes to Carmy. Every little thing reminds you of him, and he just keeps coming up like word vomit.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about him,” Nate reminds you.

You shake your head, “I don’t!”

Nate shoots you a look, before shaking his head, making sure to polish off the last of his drink.

“He’s an idiot,” Nate scoffs with an eye roll.

“Don’t say that,” you relent.

“I mean it. He’s a fuckin’ idiot!” he exclaims again, turning much more serious.

“Nate!” you protest lightly.

“I mean it,” he repeats himself, holding piercing eye contact with you.

Nate waits a beat, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your eyes as he leans in, lowering his voice.

“He couldn’t even see a good thing when had it,” he croons, leaning in towards you. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you just want to feel wanted, but you feel woozy – hazy, you’re head spinning with lust as you contemplate kissing him.

“Not even when it was right in front of him,” he adds, his lips so very close to yours.

Nate’s always been good looking. Your eyes flicker to his full lips and deep brown eyes as he towers over you from where he sits, knowing that he wants to kiss you. He’s just the kind of guy that knows he’s good looking – something you find terribly annoying.

“You’re so beautiful. I’m sorry that he can’t see it,” he practically whispers against your lips, so close that all the blood rushes to your head.

It just feels good to be wanted, to be seen. So you surge forward, closing the gap between you. As you press your lips against his, you can feel Nate smiling into the kiss. He’s a smug bastard, but tonight, you don’t care. You entertain the kiss for a little longer. At this point, you could care less that you’ve garnered the attention of some of your coworkers, that you’re just making out with Nate fucking Walker out in the open for everyone to see.

“You wanna go somewhere else? My place is around the corner,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“Sure,” you agree, you breath catching in your throat.

“C’mon,” he encourages you, with a nod towards the door.

Revenge, or the last of your gin cocktail, burns in your throat as you make a deal with the devil, following Nate out of the bar.

June

Carmy’s phone buzzes again, catching his attention as he takes another drag from his cigarette. He’s got one missed call from Sugar, a voicemail, and a text with a link to that meeting she won’t stop nagging him to go to. He’s just about to put his phone back in his pocket as it buzzes again.

He looks down.

Shit.

Fuck.

It’s a text from you.

His heart stops beating for a moment, just for a second, and he freezes.

Came across this article in the New Yorker about denim & rock n roll. Made me think of you.

Carmy’s eyes scan over the title: From the Working Class to a Fashion Statement: John Lennon, Elvis Presley, & Other Icons That Brought Denim to the Mainstream. There’s a lump in his throat. He’s been so focused on the restaurant, so focused on fixing it, that it’s been easy to compartmentalize, push any thought of you out of his mind. But as his thumb hovers over the article, daring to open it, he can picture it all so vividly. His head is filled with the image of you walking down Bowery, a few paces in front of him, clad in your favorite denim jacket of his as you tell him to ‘hurry up.’

And just for a moment, it feels so real. He can practically smell the New York City air. He can hear your laugh as you bump into him in the small walkways of each mom-and-pop dumpling shop. He can almost feel your skin brush against his as you scoot by him on the way to your table.

It becomes harder to push the thoughts of you out of his mind, the sobering reality that it’s been at least a month and a half since he’s talked to you.

She’s better off without me. Without this. Without all of this chaos, he thinks to himself.

He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t been in touch on purpose, and he had to admit, it was killing him. There were days where all he wanted to do was call you, ask how you were doing – days where the only thing that would bring him comfort was imagining you running your fingers through his hair while he bitched about the restaurant. Days where he wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with you while you forced him to watch some violent action movie, and he’d watch you in awe. He’d call you a psychopath, when in reality, he was just in shock that someone like you could want to be around someone like him.

Carmy wonders if you miss him – if it’s killing you too.

But he doubts it.

You’re a fucking mess, he thinks to himself, coming to conclusion that you’re better off without him. Without all of this… mess… grief… chaos.

What would he even say?

Sorry I'm such a prick.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here.

I love you.

It becomes progressively easier to push his thoughts of you out of his mind, as he hyper-fixates on what needs to be done today: outsource bread, read over Sydney’s report because she’s probably right about the budget…. And what the fuck is KBL electric anyways?

Now that the impulse is gone to text you back, Carmy shoves his phone into his pocket, shaking his head as he finishes his cigarette and reminds himself again:

You’re better off without him.

August

“I don’t understand,” the exec chef says to you, his voice monotone. Something wild stirring behind his eyes in response to the notice that you’ve just given him.

“My heart’s not in it,” you explain, hesitantly. “And I know you accept nothing less than perfection. I just… need some time to figure things out.”

“You’re not going to find another job like this,” he reminds you, coldly.

You nod your head in response. You thought he’d say that.

“I understand, chef,” you reply, using your tone of professionalism in your voice as a barrier.

“I told her we could reevaluate in a month. I’m open to a rehire, should after your sabbatical, you come to the conclusion that here is where you need to be,” the head pastry chef adds.

Sabbatical.

Your head pastry chef is the only one using that word, as if they expect that you’ll come back. As if this is just a break.

But it’s not a break to you. It’s a much needed change.

Your exec chef thinks it over, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“You’re an exceptional pastry chef, but your lack of commitment worries me,” he states plainly. “You’ll have to interview again.”

“I understand, chef,” you repeat yourself.

The conversation goes like this: you keep your cool, wanting nothing more than to get the conversation over it. It’s a daunting thing – quitting your dream job – enough as it is. Your head pastry chef fights for you, while the exec chef continues on his ego trip, as if you’re not sitting right in front of him. It’s not hard to tune him out. There’s a feeling inside of you, something telling you that you won’t be back, so the hoops he’s creating for you to jump through don’t seem to matter.

Your feet hit the pavement as soon as the conversation is over, and you can’t get out of the restaurant fast enough. Dinner service prep had already begun, and as you’d left, you understood there would be questions, rumors, strange looks from your coworkers. But you knew this was right.

Your heart hadn’t been in it for a while.

Not since it left and moved to Chicago and decided not to call you back.

You feel lost.

It’s not just Carmy. It’s not just the big changes and shifts you’re experiencing. It’s everything. You don’t know what the hell it is you want. And you’re brave enough to go searching for it.

You want nothing more than to call Carmy, to send him a text, for him to yell at you for quitting the job you both held in such high regard and tell you that you’re making a mistake. But the sting of the last time he ignored your call a few weeks ago stops you from picking up the phone.

Maybe he was only meant to be in your life for that chapter.

Maybe, as you leave the restaurant behind, you’ll be able to let go of him too.

Soon-To-Be Fall

It had only been a few weeks since you’d quit the restaurant, in those few weeks, for the first time in a long time, you were at peace. You’d gotten loads of calls and texts: a ‘just want to check in’ from your head pastry chef, a ‘you doin’ okay?’ from Tim, and a series of ‘can’t take no for an answer’ texts from Nate that you have no plans to answer.

The past few weeks have been filled with quiet. You’re enjoying your time, and you’re doing a whole lot of thinking about what it is you really want. You spend your Tuesday afternoon deep cleaning your apartment and listening to some of your comfort albums. It feels good to get to live slowly for once. It’s soon-to-be-Fall, even if the heat seems to be sticking around in New York City as of late.

You hear a ping coming from your phone as you close up the container filled with sanitizing wipes that you’ve been using. Making your way over to your small studio kitchen, you see a text from Liz.

Liz: I have the day off. Drinks & catching up?

You: Yeah. 7 pm?

Liz: Perf. I have restaurant goss. 👀

You chuckle in response to her text. Just as you’re preparing to type out a response, your phone buzzes again as a call comes through.

‘Carmy.’

Carmy is calling you.

Holy fuck.

It’s as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you have to try not to drop your phone. As it continues to ring, for a split second, you think about not answering. What if you didn’t? Send him to voicemail just like he’s done to you? But your curiosity gets the best of you as your thumb hovers over the ‘answer’ button. Had he heard? Was that what this was about?

You answer the call before you can talk yourself out of it, immediately putting it on speaker.

“Hi,” you say, your voice shaking a little.

And it’s as if all your troubles melt away as you hear his voice.

“Hi,” he replies.

a/n: hello! yes, by popular demand i'll be writing the phone call as a drabble. however, my first series i wrote about carmy, 'make my heart surrender' picks up right where this chapter leaves off. chapter six will take places after that story, so for those of you that have not, feel free to read it while we wait (w baited breath of course) for the final chapter of this one.

read: chapter six

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery @strawberryalicia @astronautelilanded @veryplatoniccircunstances @fonteyn

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos

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jinx-420 · 8 months

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Summer fling 2 - classic trick

Pt one - Summer fling

Summary: Your brothers childhood friend joins your family’s annual summer beach trip, nothing has changed between you two…right?

Warnings: brothers bsf Abby x fem reader, gets a teeny bit smutty, smoking weed, Abby calls reader princess like a billion times. this isn't proof read at all..

A/N : this was sitting in the drafts unfinished foreverrrr so I forced myself to write rq so I didn’t wanna leave y’all hangin for even longer 😍 I hope this one is good enough 🔥‼️

“Abby would you be a dear and wake her up, honey?” Abby politely agreed and put her focus on you, which doing so happened to keep her entertained the entire car ride. Your hair was slightly messy as you turned in your sleep. Abby would be lying if she said she hasn’t felt a little creepy staring at you sleeping for so long, but she just can’t stop looking at you, observing your features, wondering what your dreaming about. it almost gave abby a sense of nostalgia as she recalls when you were a kid, always falling asleep on road trips or whenever they had movie nights, which always ended with Jordan having to wake you up, leading you to become grumpy for the remainder of the movie. Abby wished she could be the one to wake you up every time, even though you had a known tendency to be grumpy when woken up, she didn’t care, if given the opportunity Abby would make you a perfect breakfast in bed in return for a kiss. (Not like she planned it out or anything) to be truthful Abby was slightly intimidated by the task of waking you, which is logical considering she had never woken you before, Jordan always rushing to annoy you. As Abby was picking at the reasons to not wake you up in her head, they were pulling into a gas station so Abby knew it was inevitable. She would just have to cross her fingers and hope for the best. She approached you gentle and brung her hand to your head, softly pushing your hair behind your ear before she moved her hands to your cheeks, gently caressing your face until your eyelids twitched, letting her know you would be waking up. You let out a gentle sign as your body started to wake up. With your barely conscious, blurry waking up brain, you snuggled into whatever the hell was so warm and comfortable.. which was Abby. Her brain practically short circuited seeing you getting very comfortable with her body. You snuggled your face on her waist, her shirt rising as you snuggle slightly deeper into the material, Abby feeling your face but more importantly lips on her waist. Abby felt pathetic the way you were making her feel like she was touch starved, she was always the one for that job. with other girls she was contained and abby always the one making them flustered, but with you it was a whole different story. Abby doesn’t comprehend how you seem to be making her a mess when you don’t even mean to, it’s honestly frustrating. even just last night Abby found herself almost loosing her composure with just having you touch her. She also is reminded of the fact that you got her so worked up and so fucking desperate for you, she couldn’t help but relieve all the ache you gave her after practically teasing her all night. Abby would also like to brush over the fact that she used your hoodie to get off, or just forget about the whole thing completely. “Is she awake yet” Jordan asks, snapping Abby out of her haze. “Oh she’s waking up” Abby says trying to play off the fact she zoned out staring at you. “Alright do you want to come with me in the gas station?” He asked while yawning. “Nah I’m good but can you get me a water and get her those smoothies she likes?” Abby said watching as he gets out of the car. “Yeah sure, be back in a sec” he says shutting the door softly, jogging up to your mom. Abby was so caught up in the conversation with Jordan she failed to realize you stirring in your sleep a bit.

“Cmon don’t give me a hard time wake up” Abby says with a giggle and squishing your cheeks together until you finally opened your eyes and gave her an unexpected hazy smile. “There she is, you get your beauty sleep princess ?” She says ruffling your hair. You playfully swat her hand away as you start to sit up, taking in the fact you were sleeping on her. “Oh shit, I’m sorry i didn’t plan to sleep that long..” you say as you look outside to see the dark skies. “Like I said last night, I don’t mind you snuggling up to me” Abby said with a little chuckle, seeing that you were slightly frantic. You had to admit this was the first time someone had woken you up that you didn’t want to kill them first thing you do, in fact you wished that abby would wake you up ever morning. Seeing that face first thing when you wake up, now that’s how you start the day.

“Anyways how’d you sleep?” Abby said staring relentlessly in the eyes that she missed so dearly. “Mmm you know it could be better” you say sarcastically with a teasing smile, staring the same way into her own eyes. “Oh is that so?” Abby said leaning back with her arms crossed together, manspreading an unnecessary amount. Although you were tempted more than anything to look at her arms or legs, you refuse to break eye contact. “Mhm” you say nodding your head. “If I was so uncomfortable then how come you just kept snuggling deeper and deeper into me hm?” Abby said with rasp at the end, making the eye contact almost unbearable, but you still didn’t give in. “Yeah right” you said feeling your face heating up, trying to play off how you knew it was most likely true. “Oh yeah? not like I have proof or anything..” abby said suspiciously looking around with a smile. “Abby I will kill you if you took a picture” you said, covering your face with your hands. you heard her trying to conceal her laugh and that’s when you looked back at her hesitantly. she was already pulling up the photo of you sleeping on her, snuggled right on her thighs and head slightly under her shirt. “Nuh. Uh.” You said in disbelief at her. “Your dead” you said through a giggle as you tried to reach her phone, after failing to swat her phone out of her hands a couple times you started to get closer, crawling so her leg was in between both of your knees. “Abby I’m serious.” You said failing to do so as she holds it in her hands giggling. You tried prying her fingers apart to get your phone but she didn’t let up. You let out a deep breath as you leaned your head against the seat, tired and accepting defeat that Abby would have the photo. Too busy staring at the stars, you miss the way Abby looks you up and down on her leg, paying extra attention to how your lips are parted, slightly out of breath, imagining this is how it would look after she fucked you. After a moment of silence you glance at Abby to see her giving you eyes that made her look drunk, slightly heavy while looking up at you. “What is it” you say quietly as if someone could hear you both, A smile growing across your face. Meanwhile Abby was far too deep in her thoughts to respond. Abby was going through possibility of you being into girls, she has always wondered. I mean you were the one to make Abby realize she liked women after all. She thought about all the times she tried to get something out of you to see any hint of your sexual orientation. It went from asking if you know who an openly gay person was, to picking a movie in which she knows there’s a lesbian sex scene. She would watch and observe you almost as much as the movie, trying to find any indication you liked it. And that’s exactly what she was doing right now, scanning your face to see any want in your eyes for her. “no use…” Abby said under her breath, not repeating herself when she heard you reciprocate a soft “hm?”.

you felt more confused than ever, did Abby say “no use” and if so why? You were silently staring at her trying to see where it came from. It’s not like your bad at reading people’s emotions, you have always been good at it especially with people important to you, So why couldn’t you read Abby ? Maybe it was a mix of not wanting to assume anything crazy and also that she changed?

“Hey guys, got your drinks”

———————————————————

You were peacefully reading your book, only calming your mind down from everything with Abby just a short while ago. “Gotcha” Jordan says cackling like a witch as he snatched your book away from you. “Ohmygod you’re such a dick give it back” you say rushed before you lean over the seat to achieve your book once again, quickly sitting back down. he should know you don’t play around with your books. You let out a sigh as you recognize that Abby was particularly quiet when this ordeal happened. You glance over at her but didn’t suspect her to still be on her phone, uncaring. This behavior wasn’t like Abby, you don’t remember one time where she didn’t stick up for you or help you when your brother would pick on you but she didn’t even look.. is something still wrong from earlier ? If there’s one thing you absolutely hate, it’s when someone is mad at you and you don’t know why. You plan to sort this out as soon as you can, you hate that she’s the only thing you can think about right now.

Obviously, too zoned out to notice practically anything right now, the thing that caught you out of your trance wasn’t your mom and brother cheering at our arrival to the vacation house, it wasn’t the bumps on the bridge you were crossing, and it wasn’t the bright view of the sunrise above the ocean water. It was her, giving you those same damn eyes again. With all this time in the car you have had more than enough time to think things over, I mean cmon who looks at their childhood friends like that? You can’t be imagining things.

It felt like it was just the two of you, stuck in a trance together. If things could get any better, it definitely just did. her desperate eyes rake over your body, her lips separating as she lets out a rushed breath. she looks back into your eyes, seeing your face all flushed and the same desperate look in your eyes. You wish more than anything to stay in your own little world like this forever with Abby but your brother had to ruin it once again.

“Me and Abby get the biggest room”

He says as he climbs out of the car.

Your mom looks at Jordan as she’s stepping out of the car conflicted. “Oh about that honey, I think it would be best if two girls had the same room..”

Jordan looks at you both and your mom confused. “Just for sleeping Jordan, she can stay as long as she wants with you just not in the same bed” Jordan rolls his eyes before shutting the door to get his luggage.

You took a breath before starting to sit up and leave the car before you feel a firm hand on your shoulder holding you down. “Don’t worry, we’ll have lots fun princess” she said leaned into you in a quiet voice, lifting her hand off your shoulder. You felt so intimidated by her, those fucking eyes kill you. Not to mention when she touches you it does things to you that you don’t understand. You silently pray things will go your way this beach trip.

———————————————————

It had been hours since everyone got packed in and comfy, the sun already set and stars starting to come out. As you sit on the balcony outside your room the smell of the ocean as the summer breeze hits you brings you back to every year you come here. You would like to focus on these memories but of course, abby intrudes your mind, specifically the fact that you two will be sharing a bed this whole trip. (not that your complaining) the only thing that scared you with her was the fact that you not only grew up with her, but she’s practically your family, which is off limits. “watcha doin out here” a much too familiar voice comes from behind you. “Just lookin” you said simply as you keep your eyes on the sky above you. “Looking at the stars?” Abby says coming closer. “Looking at how perfect it is here” you said looking at her next to you. The light from the moon illuminating her face and making her the most perfect thing here. Abby adored the way you would stare at her in moments like these, but she had to look away in order to not embarrass herself again. “What time is it?” Abby said as she stood next to you. You looked at her side profile and took in her appearance for a second, she was wearing a grey muscle shirt and black sweatpants. Before you were caught staring too long you looked at your phone to check the time. “11pm” you said while clicking your phone back off. She let out a hum and it went silent, both of you looking at the stars above you. Atleast that’s what you think, abby was far too busy staring at you. You were observing the little craters in the moon before you felt your body being lifted across her shoulder, making you shriek her name before giggling. Abby took it upon herself to sit down in the chair you were once sitting on and placed you right on her lap, your legs straddling hers, her arms snaking around your waist tightly, locking you onto her. You look at her as you move a bit in her lap, “not comfy ?” She asked with her eyebrows slightly concerned. You opened your mouth to respond before she pulled your lower back further on her lap, pressed fully against each other. You closed your mouth quickly to stop any noises to come out from the friction of her practically grinding you onto her. No way you would survive a whole month of this. “You wanna smoke?” Abby said casually like this was nothing as she tilts her head against you looking like a puppy dog. You nod your head almost hypnotized on her. She smiles with her teeth digging into her bottom lip, reaching in her pockets and pulling out a joint and a lighter. She placed the joint in between your lips and lit the end as you inhaled, the smoke in your lungs comforting you already. She takes the joint and takes a hit herself, blowing it away from you before leaning in to give you another hit. As you inhaled Abby pointed and said loudly “Shark !!!”your eyes went wide at her outburst as you start to cough on the smoke. You begin laughing as you see her smile and punch her slightly on the arm. “Asshole”

The both of you stayed out there for hours, talking about anything and everything.

———————————————————

“Hey, you fallin asleep again?”

Abby said in a level just above a whisper, everyone else asleep in the house. “Pshhh me? I never fall asleep” you said yawning mid sentence, making you both giggle an absurd amount. “You know what I was thinkin?” She said still giggling. “Oh god up to no good” you say hiding in her chest tearing up from all the high laughs. “We never did that prank on Jordan, I say now’s the perfect time” she said raising her eyebrows at the last bit. Your eyes widen at her words remembering the forgotten prank. “I’ll get the water” you said quickly, ready to get some payback. You attempted to raise yourself off of Abby before she pulled you back onto her, once again pulling your lower back to be against her. “Easy tiger, don’t you think we could do better than the classic trick” abby said finger quoting the end. “You’re so right. What are you thinkin ?” You said curious to what trick would be better. Abby looked around pondering before raising her brows. “Man.. I got a great one but I don’t think you can handle it.” She said slightly teasing you, blowing air out of her puffed cheeks and looking up. “oh shut up I can handle anything” you say shocked that she thinks you can’t handle a little prank, it was a little prank right? You thought before she tsked and looked you right in the eyes “how mad do you want him to be” Abby asked, eyebrows raised waiting for your answer. “Mad.” You said widening your eyes. Abby observed your face for a minute before responding. “Let’s make him think we’re fucking right next to him” your mouth falls open as you stifle a laugh. “And how are we ganna do that” you say in disbelief. “Well.. let’s go in his room, and then we’ll “fuck”and wake him up. Boom. Simple.” Abby said waiting for your reaction before laughing. “Relax, he will only be mad for a few seconds” she said still waiting for your response, biting her lip. “Fuck it” you said throwing your hands up laughing with Abby. “Atta girl” she said before reaching under your thighs holding you on her while standing up. God if Abby keeps it up with these praises your ganna go crazy. Abby steps into his room to hear his snoring and you immediately spot his led light and point to it making Abby chuckle, she switches it from the current color : blue, and change it to red. Abby walks over to the couch in his room and lays you down on it gently, picking up a blanket next to you before covering your legs in it. “I’m not cold abby” you said slightly confused. Abby looked at you briefly before sitting down infront of your legs “the blankets not there for heat babe” she says with a wink. Your face flushes realizing what you’re going to have to do to wake him up. as she put her arms under the blanket to spread your legs. “If everything goes to plan, we do this and he gets mad when he lifts up the blanket I’ll take a picture of his face” Abby said smiling and waiting for your response. if Abby knew all she had to do was a simple prank to get in between your thighs then this would be the “classic trick”

“Why can’t I be the one in the blanket” you said softly sitting up to meet Abby’s face. She scoffed before speaking in a raspy whisper “because which one of use looks like a pussy eater and which one of us looks like a pillow princess.” She said with a brief innocent smile. Your mouth was left open as you process her words, does Abby not know your lesbian? You’ve got to be joking. “Looks can be deceiving..” you say looking away with your lips to the side. Abby thought she was hearing things, “what’s that suppose to mean” Abby says quickly, Desperate for any clue you could want her. “Your not the only one that eats pussy is what I mean, Abby. And trust me. I am not a pillow princess.” You say simply stating facts. Nothing in the world could have possibly prepared Abby for what she was hearing. All this time you were lesbian? And from the sound of it as big as a lesbian as her? Abby’s head was spinning as she felt her face catch on fire and struggle to speak. Abby felt weak as she stared into your eyes, the eyes that didn’t know how wet she just made her, and just how much more Abby needed you. You loved seeing Abby in this state, it was definitely a rare sight and god you weren’t complaining one bit. Seeing her flustered was one thing but knowing that you caused it, filled you with feelings of pride and possessiveness that you want to keep feeling. “Abby” you whispered inching closer to her face. she had the same look on her face from the car, desperate. “Mhm” she responded, her eyes on at your lips. “Can I kiss y-“ Before being able to even finish your sentence Abby puts her hands on each side of your face and closes the space in between you. Finally feeling the lips you’ve thought about all these years felt like a drug, and you needed more. You put your much smaller hands on top of hers and moved your lips with hers like it would be the last time, your teeth grazed her puffy bottom lip before sliding your tongue over it making Abby audibly whimper. You felt like you were going to explode if you didn’t feel more of her soon, especially after hearing her whimpering. You pulled away to catch your breath to see a sight that defeated the purpose of doing so, Abby looking all fucked out with her puffy dark lips and flushed face. And those fucking eyes. She swallowed before speaking up in a voice that was pure lust. “Fuck this prank, strip.”

#abby anderson #fanfic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fanfic #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #muscle mommy abby #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou part 2 #tlou fic #bbf

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Blessed Are The Meek 3

Summary: you are trapped in an awkward circumstance with a widowed commander. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, sterility, and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Tommy Shelby

Note: thank you for following along. I’m sure yall didn’t expect to write Tommy again but here we are. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You place the Commander’s bag in the trunk. Then, a thermos and a wrapped croissant for the drive. It’s a small consideration, you don’t know why you even thought of it. You just know that the drive will be long and tedious. You do not relish his return after the journey and the presence of similarly willful men.

You kick off your boots before you enter the house again. You shiver and lean a hand on the wall, lifting your foot to untie the laces. The commander’s footsteps come slow and deliberate down the stairs. You put your sole to the floor and face him, dipping your head.

As he approaches, you take his coat from the rack and offer it to him. Before, there would be another, the long blue jacket his wife so treasured, with its big rosette buttons and round collar. All blue had been buried away or burned to ash.

He lets you lift it onto his shoulder, barely acknowledging you as he pulls on a pair of black leather gloves. He slides out a pair of round glasses and puts them on. The sort he wears to read or tend to some smaller detail. He checks his watch.

“Do not dawdle” he girds as he approaches the door.

You furrow your brow and watch him pull it open. What does he mean? He pauses and lets out an exhale.

“Far be it from me to concern myself, but a coat would be in order,” he bids.

You still don’t understand. Surely he can’t mean you’re going with him.

“Commander?”

“You will sit in the backseat and keep your head down. A toe out of line and there will be more than enough Eyes to have you shipped out to a colony.”

You push your chapped lips together and nod. You don’t expect it and you are unprepared. He’d spoiled the rare moment of escape that tugged at your mind. A day without him and his temper lurking.

“I will get my coat, commander.”

He carries on and you march away. Your coat is in your room with all else that is allotted to you. Not much, enough to exist. A spare dress and apron, shoes for the summer, stockings, and a second shift. You snatch your coat and pull it on, flapping back through the halls to the front door.

As you come out, the car blows exhaust into the air. You get in the back seat and do as he said. You put your head down and don’t say a word. He has his foot on the pedal before you can even shut the door.

He drives with the radio on. A dour voice recites verses as you stare at the back of the front seat. The grey sky ripples, both dimming and paling to create and ebb and flow of light.

There is a soft clunk as the commander steers with one hand. The props the thermos in the cupholder and unscrews the cap. You quickly put your eyes to your lap. The smell of breakfast tea pervades the closed space.

You do not close your eyes. You could fall asleep right there but you don’t dare. Sloth is a sin, deadly as they say. You focus on keeping awake as the tires roll on.

The gates of the capital rise before you. You give only a brief peek as the commander stops to give his identity. He’s waved inside with a panicky sort of deference. Inside, you sense the sudden flurry around you but do not look up. You don’t expect many marthas come around here.

He pulls up to a building of stained white brick. You tilt your head slightly and try to figure where you are. He keeps the engine running as he gets out, greeted by another.

“Commander.”

“Take my car to the residence,” Shelby demands.

“Sir.” There’s a lull as footsteps click around the hood, “and the martha?”

“You may take her too,” Shelby says flippantly, “she will hang my clothes, as is her duty.”

The guardian doesn’t wait for another order. He gets in the front seat as you huddle lower in your seat. It isn’t unusually to be spoken as nothing more than a thing, but it is humiliating even so. The man fixes the mirror as you sense the tension of his unasked questions. It must be a strange situation, yet he cannot question a commander.

He shifts into drive and eases onto the gas. You clasp your hands tight in the silence. It does not seem as if you will return to the house that night and that worries you.

What could it mean? Hansen’s words echo in your head. Would the commander leave with a new wife at the order of the Committee? If there was to be a new wife, could she survive the widower’s grief?

#tommy shelby #dark tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #au #peaky blinders #series #blessed are the meek #drabble #handmaid au

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finnbbl · 1 month

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Hyunjin X M! Reader - Dancer AU | SMAU | Chapter 4

Ch. 4 - Meeting Stray Kids | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |

| Story Masterlist |

Written: Yes

Smau: Yes

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I decided to go with Hyunjin for this story. Something about his personality draws me in and motivates me to write. I hope you guys will stick with me throughout it 🥹 (Feeling really inspired, so maybe a triple update today)

Warnings: Not much I don’t think, swearing maybe?

A couple weeks later..

Reading over that paper that previous week, you noticed it had said you would be leaving with Stray Kids within a few weeks. You weren’t sure if your eyes were working correctly. So you re-read it for what felt like a thousand times before you finally came to the conclusion that, yes, you would be leaving with them in only three weeks. Those few weeks were spent with nonstop rehearsal, which you didn’t mind. Dance was such a relaxing hobby for you. However, those few weeks left no time to actually practice with the idols yet. It was assumed you’d be doing that the few days before the first concert.

It wasn’t long before the 3 weeks was up. On the paper was also a list of stuff you should expect to bring with you. God did it seem like a lot, but you managed to fit everything into two suitcases. So there you were, luggage in hand at your front door as you waited for your friends who had agreed to take you. At 4 in the morning. They wanted to bid their final goodbyes before you took off for god knows how long. Soon enough, their car pulled up, one of the doors swinging open almost immediately. Next thing you knew, you were on the ground. “Y/NNN I CANT BELIEVE YOURE LEAVING!!!”

“Ohmygod Lia!” Laughs from the other four girls came from the car as they all watched from inside. “Now you know how I felt!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah yeah,” Lia eventually got up off of you and held a hand out for you, which you gladly accepted. Not sure if you could see or think straight as your head had just collided with the wall pretty hard moments earlier.

“Guys we better get going if y/n is gonna get to the airport on time!” You and Lia heard Ryujin shout from the driver side window. With that, you two were in the car. “Sooo how do you feel y/n, going on tour with such a big group?” You shrug. “What do you think the answer to that is?” Your head cocked to the side as your eyelids fell, deadpanning at Yuna. “Nervous, as always.” A scoff could be heard from you, although she wasn’t wrong. “I swear, if I had a dollar for everytime y/n got nervous over something, i’d be rich.” Yeji stated as she turned her head around to face you guys in the back seat from the passenger side.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You already are rich Yeji.” She rolled her eyes at you playfully before turning back around. “Well thanks to Lia I can’t even focus on being nervous now that my head is pounding.” You neared her face with yours briefly. “Not my fault, you started it.” Lia retorted, followed by a pout. Her bottom lip stuck out with her crossed arms, now avoiding eye contact with you.

“Oh just a heads up y/n, i believe you’re flying on the same plane as them.” Chaeryeong told you, this took you a back. “What? But i’ve never done that before, backup dancers have always gone on separate planes as the artists.”

“Yeah well, that’s our company for you.” Chae saw the way your head fell back at this information. “I better not embarrass myself.” Muttering, now with your head in your hands. It didn’t take much for you to get so anxious. You had your anxiety to thank for that. Always worried about messing something up, or embarrassing yourself. “And that’s why I told you now.”

A hand was placed on your shoulder from her, “Don’t worry, they’re really nice. Like we said. Just relax and take a deep breath.” Following her instructions, a few moments later you were able to push it aside. Not only that, but now you were at the airport. Spotting everyone at the designated spot to meet, you could already see the eight boys of the group. “Well, we’re here. Come on get out we want a hug before you go.” Smiling to them, you six stepped out of the car as they enveloped you into a giant group hug. “Tell us all about it. We wanna hear everything.” Ryu told you, as everyone else nodded in agreement.

The eight guys noticed that the members of their fellow group was onto feet away from them outside of their car. “Hey look, it’s ITZY. I wonder what they’re doing here?” Felix grabbed his friends’ attention. “Come on we should go, I wanna say hi to Yeji.” Hyunjin told Felix, who only agreed. Quickly, they were stopped by their leader. “We’re not supposed to leave without a body guard guys.” Bangchan had said as he put a hand on each of their shoulder. The other five, weren’t paying as much attention to anything going on. After all, everyone was tired as it was so early in the morning. Once the five girls had stepped back from what appeared to them as a group huddle, they noticed you standing in the middle of them. Hugging each one of them goodbye. “Wait who’s that?” Hyunjin questioned mainly to himself, but ended up grabbing a couple of the others attention. “Woah that’s y/n l/n. He’s such a sick dancer dude.” Suddenly butting into the conversation, was Minho. He could appreciate a fellow good dancer. After squinting, the other three could realize that it was in fact you.

“Ohh you’re right. Hard to see out here with how dark it is.” Lee Know could only tell by your signature cap you always wore. In fact, the whole group was familiar with you. You were always trending on social media, and you had danced with many great artists. A very well known dancer, but they wouldn’t have guessed you’d be traveling with them.

Just then, all five of the girls began smiling and pointing in their direction. Causing you to look over at them, you waved nervously as Lia started to drag you over to them. “Oh god Lia. Please do not embarrass me.” You haulted her to a brief stop. “Relax oh my god i’m not gonna do anything. Besides, embarrassing you would mean embarrassing me.” Her statement confused you, but maybe that was her plan as you were being dragged over again. Wasn’t long before you were standing in front of Stray Kids, a few other of the backup dancers stood to the side. “Hi guys, this is y/n.” Lia started to introduce you as you yanked your arm out of her grasp. “Lia, I don’t think they nor I came here for an introduction.” You let out an heavy breath and rolled your eyes. This earned a smile from a few of the members, at least the ones who had noticed the six of you. “Well anyways we should get going and so should you guys. We just came here to drop him off.” Chaeryeong stated before they started slowly making their way to the car. “It was nice to see you guys again, bye!!” All the girls called out their goodbyes to both you and the boys.

Moments of silence passed as you all waited for the rest to show up. Then it wasn’t long before you all headed to check in. “So, y/n…” You had heard someone next to you say your name. Hesitantly turning your head towards them, you realized it was Bangchan. After first finding out who you’d be touring with, you decided to do a bit of research on them. Learn their names and such. “Oh, me?” It was hard to believe someone like him would be talking to you. He nodded and chuckled at your response. “So how do you know ITZY? Never seen you dance with them before so i was just curious.” His head tilted to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh well uh, I went to high school with Lia.” A small smile fell on your face as you responded quietly. “Ahh gotcha. Well, we’re excited to work with you.” His elbow nudged you lightly, all you could do was smile like a dork. If it wasn’t thanks to your mask, you’d be an embarrassed mess. It was hard for you to take compliments, especially in person. A few more words was exchanged with their leader before you all made it to security.

The next few steps were done efficiently and quietly. Next thing you knew, you were on the plane. Examining the interior was like nothing you had seen before. You never expected the plane to be so fancy. Only having toured with a few other artists, who weren’t under very large companies. Considering how popular this group and company was, it made sense. You had learned from the girls how touring with artists worked, seats would be random but you’d only hoped you wouldn’t be seated next to one of the members. Not that they weren’t nice or anything, but you couldn’t handle sitting that close to someone so famous. They lived an entirely different life, one you’d never experience or understand.

But as your luck would have it, the tallest member of the group took the middle seat right next to you. Trying to avoid any unnecessary eye contact or interaction, mostly for your nerves’ sake, you found yourself staring outside the window. And it worked, for five minutes at least. “Heyyy y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” The member known as Hyunjin, had positioned himself to face you. With no other choice, you decided to turn his direction and face him. “Hey, it’s uh.. nice to meet you too.” Hyunjin tilted his head to the side, a gentle look resting on his eyes. Something about them relaxed you, and for some reason you weren’t anxious. Pulling off your mask, as it was starting to get pretty hot, you shot him a warm smile. Silence enveloped you two. As he was about to say something else, the pilot interrupted with the usual script they followed.

Taglist: @silverstarburst @virluna148

#skz imagines #skz smau #skz x reader #stray kids #bang chan #changbin #hyunjin #lee know #skz #stray kids smau #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #imagines #seungmin #jeongin #han #felix

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blue-jisungs · 1 year

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exam szn

request. yes, this one from my 3k ask game. feel free to request but please read the rules beforehand :D also i hope you don’t mind i kind of turned into it academic rivals but technically it’s enemies too…. i didn’t have any other idea how to combine it :( i’m not really happy with how it came out as well ㅠㅠ i hope you like it tho!! <3

a/n. it’s actually crazy bc the day before i wrote this and got this ask i talked with @slytherinhobi about yj… then i got the ask… and then when i started writing it yj posted those pics on twt. it’s destiny frfr yeonjun ask me out already 🙄🙄

summary. when your academic rival witnessed your breakdown, neither of you expect such outcome

warnings. crying, reader is extremely stressed :(

finals are never easy.

and they definitely aren’t easy when you also have a nosy boy on your head, bragging about how he’s better at you in anything.

“can you shut up for once?” you spit out, looking at yeonjun. his smirk widens as he shakes his head as a no “god, you’re worse than beomgyu”

you’re waiting for the examiner to let you into the class. it’s been a long week of exams, every day from a different subject. it’s friday which means it’s the last day but you can feel the stress and tiredness getting into you as you can’t even focus on anything. and the fact that you’re in the same room as yeonjun doesn’t help.

your rivalry started in first grade when you got the maximum on a test and he didn’t. and when the teacher praised you for it? yeah, that was the starting point. you have no idea why did he care so much, you just wanted to be left alone. but when yeonjun signalled that he’s not leaving you any time soon, it quickly escalated into competition.

the worst part was that you realised that you kind of, well… have a crush on him. it was stupid, you knew. but he wasn’t that bad. okay, towards you he was a complete asshole. but you saw the way he’s nice to his friends and how he cares about them. and - you had to admit - he is such a pretty boy–

“–are you deaf or something?”

you snapped your gaze towards him and his stupid smile.

“piss off” you huffed and entered the room upon seeing how you two are the only left. hmph. the teacher must have came earlier.

yeonjun watched you and he felt his heart ache. you seemed exhausted. he felt guilt sinking in his stomach because what if he’s the reason? it’s the finals and you’re stressed enough…

he shook his head and entered the classroom, sitting on his spot. the teacher started giving out the tests and yeonjun took a last glance at you and your shaking hands.

three hours, one headache and sweaty palms layer you stormed out of the classroom, heading to the nearest bathroom to let out the tears you’ve been holding for the past half an hour.

you felt awful. the questions weren’t that hard, sure, because you studied but even though you felt that you failed miserably. it was just too much.

you slammed the door and leaned over the sink, taking a shaky breath. you let out a harsh sob, the emotions that bottled up in the past week finally breaking out.

you didn’t even realise when the door from the bathroom opened. only when you heard this annoying voice… that was strangely soft, you looked up just to catch eye contact with him in the mirror.

“y/n…?”

you let out a shriek, jumping away from the sink. it was yeonjun. what is yeonjun doing in a ladies bathroom, first of all. and why–

“get out!” you sniffled, manically trying to wipe out the tears even though he’s literally standing here in front of you and is a witness of your mental breakdown.

“you do realise it’s the men’s bathroom, right? soobin told me he saw you. as much as he always talks shit i had to check out myself” he scoffed. you didn’t see how his expression softened though. the feeling of guilt from before returning to him because he was unfortunately right. it was awful to see you in a state like this and especially knowing that he was party a cause of it–

“sorry”

yeonjun looked at you, eyes widening. the tears didn’t stop streaming from your face as you took your bag and rushed to the exit.

he didn’t know what to do. yeonjun knew he can’t leave you like this, as much as you probably hate him. you need to be taken care of right now.

he stormed out of the bathroom and caught up to you. yeonjun gently grabbed your wrist, the sight of his worried gaze confusing you.

“leave me alone” you hissed, trying to wriggle out of his hold. he did not let go.

“i know you hate me but y/n, you’re not in the best–” he started as you punched his chest, tears dwelling in your eyes once again

“yes, indeed i hate you. who you are to tell in what mental condition am i?” you spit out and gave up, letting out a harsh sob. you stopped moving, looking down.

“i’m sorry. i’m an asshole, i know” yeonjun mumbled and was caught off guard when you suddenly hugged him tightly.

“i’m just so tired” you cried into his shirt, probably soaking it. his eyes widened but he quickly wrapped his arms around you feeling that you needed that hug.

“i know. but please don’t cry. please” yeonjun whispered into your hair, feeling his eyes water as well “you’ll be alright. i promise”

“no i won’t. the exam went horrible” you sobbed but your breath started getting more stable.

“i’m sure you did well. i really am. but let’s take care of you now, okay? you’re overworked” he said. you fell silent, the occasional shivers of your body letting him know that you’re calming down.

he wasn’t rushing you. and when you finally let go, he quickly wiped his eyes before you could notice.

“why do you act like that?” you asked and yeonjun let out a deep sigh, cupping your cheeks and wiping gently your smudged mascara with his fingers “you literally told me to eat dirt yesterday”

yeonjun tightened his lips, mind racing with million of thoughts.

“i can’t say it…” he sighed, removing his hands. he couldn’t possibly tell you that he may or may have not developed feelings towards you.

“coward” you scoff, wiping your cheeks and taking a deep breath “well… thank you. i guess. but now i’m gonna go”

“please don’t–” yeonjun said before he could realise those words left his mouth. you turned around and he cleared his throat. you looked at each other shocked.

he took a deep sigh and pulled you closer.

“i know it’s not the best time to say it since you’re still stressed about the exam. and i know my actions says otherwise but i… i like you. and i feel so bad knowing that i was the reason that got you so stressed out too” he confessed, looking for some kind of reaction on your face. he certainly did not expect you to cry though.

“don’t joke about it. is this a test or what? that’s just mean” you sniff, hiding your face in your hands.

“what? y/n, i’m not. it’s just… i didn’t intend on being mean it just… happened” he mumbled, causing you to scoff “but i really like you. and i’m sorry i just threw it on you like that– oof!”

you hugged him again, sobbing into his shirt.

“i liked you for so long it broke my heart that you acted this way towards me” you murmured and yeonjun’s heart sped up. what…?

he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. his mind tried hard to comprehend how you managed to like him despite his mean posture towards you but right now he knew you have to rest.

yeonjun slowly pulled you away, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.

“i’m sorry. but let’s go over to my place now, okay? you have to eat something” he smiled softly.

“can you– hold my hand though?” you whispered, yeonjun’s heart clenching with how adorable you are.

“of course” he hummed and grabbed your hand, caressing it with his thumb.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy

#txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #blue jisungs's ask game #txt yeonjun #txt fic #txt soft hours #txt reactions #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x reader #txt au

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westernbitch · 1 year

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Owen Hunt FanFic

First time writing something different. Wondering if I should write more..... please comment if you want more!

Owen Hunt comforting reader after she finds out her shitty bf cheated on her. Reader is Derek's little sister. I hope y'all like it!

------------------READ MORE

I wake up to the sound of shuffling around my room, I shoot up with a scream and find Karev crawling into the window of my room. I roll over with a groan, “Y/N, if you didn’t let me in, I told you I would find a way in!”

“Y/N! Are you okay,” Derek runs in with a baseball bat in one hand, a phone in the other, and he is breathing hard. “I will kill you-,” Meredith screams with a spatula in her hand, “shit Karev what are you doing?”

I cover myself with the warm comforter, hoping if I hide under it enough, the whole world will be blocked out. Just my luck, I hear Owen and Sloan follow behind Karev, “sweetheart, I know you are upset, but you’re better than him and he shouldn’t have slept with that little hoe of a resident!”

“Jake slept with a freaking res-” anger booms through the room as Derek talks. “I swear to god I am gonna kill him,” Sloan nods and agrees with Derek.

“For the love of God, get the hell out of the room! Please-” I try to get everyone out by being grumpy, something hard for me to pull off, but it sometimes works. No one budges, everyone just stands around.

“Can I get a minute with Y/N alone,” Owen says, apparently everyone follows because I hear footsteps exit the room.

“Is this why you won’t laugh at any of my jokes?” Owen whispers as he lays down next to me and pulls down the covers to see my face. “Y/N, please,” he pulls me to his chest, which breaks down every border I have put up, sobs start coming out of me freely.

“I am so fucking stupid, I fucking let him do that. Everyone knows I am the dumbass that let her boyfriend cheat on her with some newbie dumbass from peds.” His arms pull me tighter into his chest and our bodies melt together. “He has been an asshole for months and I just let him be because I thought he loved me. He acts like we aren’t even in a relationship and now I know why. I am so fucking stupid”

“Please don’t say that, you’ll make me cry,” this makes me stop crying and look up into his deep blue eyes. They crinkled a bit as he smiled at me, I can’t help but giggle. His thumb wipes away a stray tear, “ahh there’s my girl,” his deep voice grumbles in his chest.

“Now, what is one thing that we could do right now that would make you feel better? Something that will make you forget about that fucker who was a complete asshole to you all the time.”

His question is a deep question, part of me wants to go egg his house or slash his tires on his brand new sports car. I know if I said that, Owen and everyone down stairs would hop on that chance as I said I wanted to do it.His hands are rubbing my back, rubbing aimlessly and drawing random shapes, making it hard to focus. “Scissors”

“Scissors? Are we going to cut all of his shit up?” His eyes light up as he laughs at the idea of cutting his stuff up.

I slide from his arms and walk to the dresser, grabbing the hair cutting scissors from the top drawer. I quickly grab one side of my long dirty blond hair and chop it off, then I do it to the other side. My eyes glance down at what I just did, the thrill that is running through me is intense. When I look in the mirror I see I actually gave myself a cute ass bob, my curls falling right around my shoulders.

Owen walks up behind me and runs his fingers through my hair, “fuck.” I give him a questioning look in the mirror, “you look fucking gorgeous.”

I feel butterflies in my stomach and my face turns a light shade of pink, “he fucking loved my hair long. He said if I cut it he would break up with me.”

“What a dick,” his eyes darken with the words I just said, “Long hair, short hair, bald, I don’t give a fuck, I would date you.”

“Owen, you don’t hav-”

“No, Y/N, I have been nice and respected him by being kind enough not to flirt with you. Now that douche is out of the picture and I am going to remind you every fucking second of my life how fucking beautiful you are.”

#greys anatomy #owen hunt #owen hunt x reader #comforting reader #greysedit

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bunniebubbleswrites · 1 year

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Hot Coco Kisses

Larissa Weems x F! Teacher! Reader A/N: This was so much fun to write and I had to stop myself from giggling in the middle of some of my classes! Warnings: Slight slow burn? Tooth-rotting fluff, kinda OOC Larissa Words: 1782

Outreach day, something that almost everyone looked forward to. Everyone except you. It was the one thing you did dread every year. All it did was bring back unwanted memories. You had managed to get out of it every year by saying you had papers that still needed grading or by feigning illness. This year neither of those was an option. Apparently, they didn’t have enough chaperons this year so it was just you, Larissa, and Marilyn.

You stood next to Marilyn, as the Mayor’s voice rang through the air, you weren’t really listening to his speech. Something about normie and outcast relations blah blah blah. You just focused your eye’s on the building behind the Mayor and Larissa.

The rush of students passing you and Marilyn forced you out of your daze, almost knocking you into Marilyn.

“Oh my goodness! Marilyn, I am so sorry!” You profusely apologize to your colleague.

“It’s okay, really (Y/N) it’s not that big of a deal.” Marilyn waved her hands in front of her brushing off what happened. “Are you okay though? You’ve seemed kind of out of it since we got here.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just there are some memories I can’t seem to let go of.” You let out a sigh as you spotted Larissa walking towards the both of you in her long gray coat. Her long legs carried her over to the both of you very quickly.

You and Marilyn both turn to look at the tall woman that had her signature smile on her face. The three of you stood in a small circle; the silence un-nevering.

“We should probably go and see how the kids are doing.” Marilyn’s voice made you jump just slightly. You nodded and smiled as you walked towards the students still standing on the main road. You ushered the small group towards their assignments and when you were sure everyone was where they needed to be you started towards The Weathervane.

You entered the coffee shop, the small bell on the door signaling to the people behind the counter they had another customer. You went up to the counter surprised that there was no line.

“Hey Tyler,” Tyler turned and looked at you and met your smile with his own. You had been close with his mother, that in-result led to you being around a lot when he was still little. “My usual, I’ll leave the money on the counter.” You took a 5 dollar bill out of your wallet and placed it on the counter.

You walked over to a small booth second to the back, while putting your wallet away and putting it in the front pocket of your bag. You settled into the booth with your back facing the entrance. You placed your bag next to you and pulled out your book. This was routine whenever you came into The Weathervane.

You ordered a Hot Chocolate, you settled into the second booth to the back of the shop and read. Letting yourself get absorbed into your reading you didn’t notice the two teachers that had walked in. Tyler called out your name and your head shot up.

You took your bookmark and placed it into the book where you had left off. You left your book on the table and walked over towards the counter, you grabbed the to-go cup.

“Thanks Tyler.” You raised the cup of hot chocolate in your hands and nodded at him. You settled back into the both, sipping on the hot chocolate, burning your tongue just slightly with the first sip. You opened your book back up and let your mind wander.

You heard someone sit down in front of you and you looked up from your book, a look of annoyance on your face until you saw Larrissa in front of you with a cup of hot chocolate. You smiled at her and tried to go back to your book.

You tried to focus on the words on the page in front of you but you just couldn’t. All you could do was keep sneaking glances at the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems,” Larissa gasps as she looks up from the cup she was holding in her hands. You slipped your bookmark into your book and set it gently on the table; resting your hands over each other on top of the book. “ Well, it looks like another successful Outreach Day is upon us.” Larissa gave a slight chuckle towards the mayor.

“And, uh… Thank you for your generous donation to my re-election campaign.” The mayor’s voice seemed to lower but he’s loud enough for Marliyn to hear him.

“Consider it a token of our ongoing cooperation.” Larissa clicks her tongue and you look at her, your shock showing just slightly. Marliyn walks over towards the three of you.

“Apparently everyone is off to their assignments, and so far no incidents.” You've never been more thankful for Marliyn’s impeccable timing.

“Mayor Walker, I’d like you to meet Marilyn Thornhill,” Larissa glanced over towards you “and (Y/N) (L/N).” She gestured towards Marilyn then you. Mayor Walker glanced at you and then at Marilyn, then he smiled.

“In the spirit of outreach, Marilyn is Nevermore’s first normie teacher, and (Y/N) is one of newest teachers.” You smile up at him.

“Well, the pleasure is all mine.” He reaches his hand out and shakes my hand then Marilyn’s.

“Hey, have we, uh… Have we met before?” He turns his attention towards Marilyn, you tune out the rest of their conversation starting down at the cover of your book. You let yourself zone out and the sound of Larissa's voice made you jolt your head up.

“(/N)...(Y/N, are you alright.” She had one of her gloved hands over top of your hands that had been on top of your book. Your face flushed, when had Marilyn left? When did Mayor Walker leave?

“Yes, I’m fine just a little out of it. Sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologized, it had just come out.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” Larissa suggested kindly. Maybe some fresh air would do you some good. You nodded and slipped your book into your bag, you grabbed your hot chocolate and slid out of the booth,having Larissa mimicking your movements.

You both walked out of The Weathervane, your right hand gripping the strap of the bag that hung off your shoulder. Once you reach the steps outside you take a deep breath in and let the cold air settle around you. Larissa puts a hand on your lower back urging you forward.

You look over your shoulder up at her and are met with a nervous smile. You both move down the steps.

“So, umm… we haven’t actually got to sit down and talk since I've been here. So I guess I’ll ask first, what’s been going on with you?” You finish off your hot chocolate and toss it into a trash can as you pass by it.

“Well, nothing really. I’ve just been managing Nevermore.” Larissa responds to your question with the answer you were expecting. Silence falls over both of you as you walk. You go to speak up again but Larissa beats you to it.

“What about you? I mean what's been going on with you?” She seemed nervous when she said it. You giggled slightly at the fact.

“Well, nothing too interesting. After graduation I went to college and now I’m here.” You smiled up at her as you let the words fall out of your mouth.

As you both walked; you both started to bring up old memories. The good and the bad, some of them making you laugh so hard your face turns red.

“Remember that one time Claire begged me to switch Outreach Day assignments with her and she ended up with the espresso machine blowing up in her face.” The words left your mouth as you laughed and it made your heart soar to see Larissa laughing with you.

Larissa then stopped and faced you, she looked nervous. Her face was almost as red as yours was but it seemed it was not for the same reason.

“Larissa is everything alrigh-” She cut you off before you could get another word out.

“You're not dating anyone right?” She said out right, making your eyes go wide.

“N-no, why do you ask?” You stutter out, unsure of where this conversation was going. It had happened to many times before, being asked out and being embarrassed when they didn’t show up or showed up with someone else.

Her face was flushed and so was yours, maybe it’s because you both had been through the same experiences in this department. You both looked at each other and you knew her question without her having to say anything.

You took a step towards her and you reached your hands up to her face having to stand on your tippy-toes despite the heels you were wearing.

You pulled her down, her red lips meeting yours. You weren’t sure what had prompted you to kiss her but you did.

She kisses you back, her arms wrapping around your waist. You didn’t know how long you had been like that, but it got intense enough that her tongue had slipped into your mouth. You could still taste the hot chocolate she had earlier.

She pulled back first, her red lipstick was smudged and you no doubt had some on your lips as well. You both just stood on the sidewalk for a little bit, staring at each other.

The sound of students cheering made you both pull back all too quickly. You stumbled over your own feet and Larissa caught you in her arms. You regain your balance, your hand on Larissa’s lower arms. Your students had just caught the both of you kissing, dear god. You don’t think you would ever live this down.

Larissa shooed the students away, your face flushed and all you could do was stare down at your shoes and grip the handle of your bag so tightly your knuckles were turning white. Larissa walked over to you and took your hand from the handle of her bag. When you felt her gloved hand on yours, you relaxed just slightly.

“So, how about coffee Saturday?” You giggle out, looking up at her. Your hand still in her gloved one.

“That would be lovely.” She responds back, giving you a truly happy smile.

You both walk back to the town square hand in hand, but not before you fix her lipstick and wipe the rest off of your own lips.

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #wendsday #principal weems #principal weems x reader

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gingerlurk · 9 months

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Lovers' Crest | Chapter 1: The Heiress

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian is off-kilter. This was an unusual job from the off, but it kept getting stranger.

He thought he would be picking up a spoiled little heiress. How she had ended up in the middle of an unsanctioned and bloody conflict, been taken prisoner, and held at an old empire sprawl, didn’t interest him enough to look into, frankly. But he was at least expecting a supplicant and willing thing that would fall to her knees and be grateful to be getting taken home.

Instead, it’s you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, Reader is a rich runaway, also a badass, canon-typical violence, brief mentions of creeps with ill intentions, uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: Hi! I am completely new here. This is something I've been writing for myself to get out of a dire writing slump. But here, please enjoy. I thought it was going to end up being 12-15 chapters long, but nope (shocker). Completed on A03, I just got encouraged to share here. Also please note - to keep it low pressure for myself - I have taken almost no effort to research or fact check Star Wars canon, technical terms for ship mechanics, or space flight. But I think it still hangs together like the fun story it is meant to be (much like its inspiring text). Also I'm Australian, so the spelling is what it is. Thank you for reading!

Everything is blinding whiteness. White walls, white floors. Harsh white lighting strips disappear down endless corridors.

You wonder to yourself what it is about totalitarian thought that demands such sterility. It is colourless and uniform, you suppose. Even for a decommissioned military base, repurposed as a prisoner of war camp, the cold lonely veneer of the empire shines on.

The heavy restraints chafe at your wrists as you raise your arms, trying to shield against the glare. A rough hand tugs them back down.

‘Hey, hands in front, princess.’ The spittle-licked voice grates on you. Fine. You just want to get to a cell where you can think. Have a minute to figure some next steps. It can’t be much further.

But the hair has started to rise on the back of your neck. For some time now, your little party made up of you and your four-guard escort hasn’t passed an occupied cell. It’s like you’re in an entirely unused part of the facility. A tense inevitability settles in your gut.

One more turn and the spit-lick calls halt.

‘This place is as good as any, lads.’ He swipes his wrist against a random cell and you expect to be shoved in. But the four of them move with you.

‘What the fu—,’ you say as a hand cracks over your face.

‘It’s a lucky thing,’ the voice grunts over the sting ringing in your ears. ‘No timestamp was logged to the manifest for your release from processing, so you won’t be missed for a spell. This is a nice quiet spot so we can get to know you a little, princess.’

A white-hot rage simmers in your spine and you let it filter up into your brain to focus your senses. Hatred coils in your chest. You channel that to your limbs, breathing into the spaces where you’ll need strength and speed. Feeling prepared, you let the four of them crack gags and wait for a good moment.

A loud thump, five heads whip around, a laser blast turns the white shining walls red for just a moment, and chaos erupts.

‘Wh--!’ One of your scrubs drops to the floor, dead. The self-appointed leader stays in front of you, yelling at the other two to do something. They draw blasters and point as a dark and imposing figure swings around the doorway and, without pause, starts to take them apart. Fists and headbutts and a knee kicked in sends one sprawling. The other manages to get a shot off but it just plints off this… this knight’s armour? You’re not sure what you’re seeing.

The ‘leader’ has his blaster drawn, watching the fight, but is holding a rough hand to your shoulder, as if to keep himself between you and this attacker. Taking the opportunity, you swing the brace on your wrists around and clock him right under the jaw. As he reels, in one unified movement, you sweep a foot to help his descent to the ground and make to jam three rigid fingers into each of his kidneys, hoping to incapacitate.

But you’ve been thrown off by this turn of events as well and just miss the second sweet spot. He manages to lunge to his feet again and grabs you by the throat to hurl you to the floor. You scramble to your knees and look up at the asshole staggering about in front of you. He squares up. Fear snakes through you as you sit back onto your heels. He rubs at his jaw while swinging the blaster around to point at you, face thunderous.

‘Waste of a fuckin—’ But he’s cut off by the large hole that appears in his chest. He makes a ‘wuh?’ at it before toppling sideways, revealing behind him the strange figure, who has a gauntleted hand pointed at the space where your would-be killer’s chest used to be.

On your knees, you gaze up at your apparent saviour.

He’s dazzling. He seems to be built entirely out of armour, weapons and munitions. A large, angular helmet completes the look; its dark T visor regards you while fingers absently punch at the other wrist’s bracer.

‘Are you hurt?’ A deep, modulated voice questions you.

You reach up to poke at your tender cheek.

‘Nothin’ serious,’ you confirm, moving to your feet. When he steps forward, you work to not shy back, letting him lift your restrained wrists and scrutinise them.

‘I will be able to remove these on my ship. Come with me.’ Your knight turns away, beckoning you to follow.

‘Ah, afraid not,’ you say. You rock on your toes, waiting for him to turn back.

‘What?’ A voice like flint.

‘That’s not happening.’ You sniff.

He doesn’t turn but he doesn’t keep walking.

‘Do you want out of here or not, girl?’ A snag of anger but largely calm, like he kind of doesn’t care about your answer one way or the other but it has been quite an inconvenience getting here.

‘Of course I do.’

‘Then come with me.’

‘Can’t.’

Now he whirls and, hell, why is that so satisfying? He stalks toward you.

‘I am being paid well to bring you in alive and unharmed, but also by any means necessary. So, I am not above a use of force.’ That voice is doing specific things to your chest, and belly, and the apex of your thighs. ‘Come. With. Me.’

You push the dry mouth and racing heart to the side and lift your arms up, awkwardly showing him the underside of your restraints.

‘Afraid not,’ you repeat.

To his credit, he shuts up and looks, broad shoulders dropping some as he registers the issue.

‘Proximity lock,’ he mutters.

‘Proximity lock,’ you confirm. ‘Alive and unharmed, you said? Don’t reckon getting my hands blown off would count to that. Only getting these bad kids off via a control room or processing cell.’

‘These are outlawed.’ You stare at him.

‘This is an illegal pri—’

‘Yes, fine.’ He engages a holo map of the floor plan on the chunky piece of kit on his arm. Scanning.

‘This way,’ he brushes past you and strides on.

You take a moment to stare at the bodies littered on the floor of the cell, then lean over one of them. It takes some doing but you get what you were after and stand to turn down the corridor. You give a small yelp of surprise before almost bumping straight into the stranger’s chest. Hells how did he sneak up like that?

‘What are you doing?’ he says, teeth obviously gritted tight under that shiny helm.

You hold up your prize.

‘These bracers should open most of the general control rooms, if we get lucky enough.’

You want to believe his mouth has fallen open in surprise, eyes widened, impressed with you. But you can’t see a thing, not even your own smirking reflection.

You make a ‘let’s go’ gesture and the two of you move on.

You stroll along beside the hulking figure, glancing sideways every minute or so.

So, he’s being paid well to retrieve you, is he? That’s interesting.

Your earlier observation of the rows of vacant cells seems to extend to a lot of the base. How much of this place is actually in use? It increases your chances of finding an unattended control room, which is a bonus. You can’t wait to get these horrendous restraints off. Not designed for human wrists, the edges cut into your skin and inner divots scrape your bones. After using them just to take a swing at that leech, you’re pretty sure there’s bleeding.

You push the discomfort away and decide to say something.

‘Empty, isn’t it?’ That’s the best you got, is it? Hells.

‘It is at a little under a fifth capacity,’ he responds quickly.

‘Right.’ You fall quiet again. You’re almost grateful when the two of you round yet another turn and six guard helmets swivel toward you. Less awkward.

‘Hey! Stop!’ one yells. They each push off the wall they’d been lounging against and reach for sidearms.

Your companion gives you a hard shove back around the corner.

You stumble against the wall but right yourself. At first, you think it best to stay put. But the sounds of grunts and blows raining down draws you to the edge of the wall. Leaning around the corner to look, your mouth falls open in awe.

The man is a cyclone.

One goon has barely started reeling from a punishing blow when the next is being pulled into a deathly throw. Limbs are jerked and snapped back and forth and any blow one of them happens to land is shrugged off with so much ease.

It’s incredible to witness.

Fortunately you’re not so distracted that you don’t spot one of them, conveniently close to where you’re crouched, hurriedly trying to get a shock prod started. The poor sap is panicking as his brethren get decimated.

This is foolish, but you’re doing it anyway. You check that your ally is not looking – he isn’t, focused on driving a vibroblade somewhere soft and fatal – and sneak up to the guy’s back. You raise your arms and whip them down across his shoulders, wincing at the impact; it’s mostly ineffectual and you slink back.

He starts, turns, sees you trying to duck out of sight, and makes his advance.

‘Come ‘ere, little one,’ he spits as he rounds the corner, leering at you with some relish. You take timid little steps back until he’s fully in the hallway, and then you give him a devilish grin.

You wait for his lunge to grab at you and slide to your knees, ducking his pawing hands and spinning to make a 180 to finish behind him. As you pass his centre of gravity you shove your shoulder hard into his hips and he slams into the wall. Hopping to your feet in one fluid motion, you have your foot high and burying itself in his chin before he rights himself. In a stroke of luck, you manage to kick his helmet clean off in the same move.

His neck whips back and he gives a cry of pain, slumping on the wall. Just as he surges back to his feet, you’ve spun another pirouette and have the heel of your other foot ready to meet the bridge of his nose. It connects with a satisfying crunch matched a second later by the back of his skull smacking the wall again.

He wilts to the floor, moaning. You drop a knee onto his exposed neck, pull his sidearm from the holster and release one quick blast. He jolts and falls still.

You drop the pistol and listen. Grunting and crunching metal still echoes around the bend.

Now think, idiot. Get rid of the body.

These old places have those floor level garbage units, right? For the old, tiny droids that would roll around, hoovering up whatever. You edge along the wall, toeing at gaps and latch-looking things. Ah ha. Damn, what luck. The door pops open in one smooth motion. You drop to your knees and shove the dead weight with all your strength. He slides along the floor and flops into the space in the wall. You kick the blaster, broken helmet and abandoned shock prod in after him and nudge the door closed.

The sounds of fighting have stopped. You flop back against the wall and try to look meek and afraid. Either he rounds the corner and you’re safe, or one of the guards does and you’d like to try the same trick again.

It’s him to walk into view, taking in your stature. You put on an air of relief and peer back around the corner.

You whistle low.

‘Five against one, huh? You said you were being paid well and I sure hope that’s true.’ You dash off, eager to get out from under his watchful visage.

After a moment, he follows.

The Mandalorian feels off-kilter. This was an unusual job from the off, but it kept getting stranger.

An obscenely wealthy broker had approached looking to hire him to rescue a niece. Din Djarin did not do rescues. And he had said as much. But the price was something else, and the Razor Crest wasn’t getting new tilt suspension on his present takings.

Instead, it’s you.

He thinks back.

She was on her knees when the little skirmish ended. He hadn’t noticed the girl shift from the wall he’d first clocked her pushed back against, but when he dropped the third guard and spun to the head honcho, finishing him without grace, there she was. The bootlick he’d run through had tipped sideways to reveal his quarry seated against the gleaming white floor, looking up at him with a fading fear and emerging astonishment.

It was a sight.

Quarry is not exactly the right word, he reflects. Just another thing pushing him out of alignment. What does he call her? How does he think about her?

She’d understood the nature of those cuffs of hers, where had she picked that up? And she didn’t seem to shrink at all from his taciturn demeanour.

Then that second fight with that sorry lot. He would have sworn on the sacred forge itself there had been six of them. But when the fifth body dropped and he’d reared back to take the last to a blunt-force grave, the hall was still. He found the girl tucked around the corner where he’d shoved her, curled into the wall, hands awkwardly shielding her face. He was good at reading people and the act she was putting on dropped the moment she looked at his handiwork. Then it was nothing but amusement in those eyes.

She’d scrambled to her feet and hopped over the bodies, carrying on. Din had stared hard down the hall she’d apparently cowered in, nothing but blank walls and empty air.

Finally, finally, your wrists are released with a soft hiss. You look in dismay at the lacerations and bruises littering your skin and pull the jumpsuit sleeves over them quickly.

Your present company makes no indication he’s noticed, focused on the holo hovering over his arm.

‘There is an entrance to disused tunnels in the next section over. From there, it is not far to my ship,’ he says. ‘This way.’

This time, you follow without hesitating, eager to get away from this abysmal place.

Despite saying it wasn’t far, it is a silent, awkward walk out of there. You attempt a few turns at conversation, but each time he gives you a concise unpunctuated sentence that concludes questioning.

You’re mulling over the long, boring journey back to your home system – the ramifications of which you staunchly push to back of mind – when your terse rescuer’s ship comes into view.

You halt in your tracks, gazing up at the lovely, old gunship. Battered, bruised and brimming with elegant age. ‘Wow…’ you say softly.

He’s taken a few steps beyond you before registering your pause and turning back. You sense puzzlement and a strangely earnest pride radiating from the armoured visage. ‘Never seen one of these before?’ he asks.

You speak before you can stop yourself, ‘Oh I have,’ you breathe, and he startles a little. ‘Just not, not out in the world like this.’ Ah, shut up now. You look over at him and can sense the feeling of being deeply scrutinised. You shake off your reverie. ‘Well, shall we?’ You march with a light step past him as best you can.

You sense him following and, after a moment, hear light module beeping behind you as the Razor Crest opens itself for you. You temper giddiness and slow down so he can overtake to move into the hold first. You follow, looking around curiously, but keep it level before matching his path into the cockpit.

As you enter, he reaches up into a storage bin and pulls something down before turning to you.

He hands you a small med kit.

‘For your arms,’ he says simply. Ah, so he did see. Sees everything apparently. He says no more and moves to take the pilot seat, jabbing at controls.

You think nothing for it and drop down into a rear chair, using the console beside you to start laying out the contents of the kit, eyes lighting on the salve. You snatch it up and squirt a portion to lather over your cuts and grazes. You let a long sigh escape your lips as the miracle cream does its work.

It feels incredible. You even moan a little at the sensation.

Mind clearing, able to think a bit. You continue to clean and dress your hurts, deciding to just out with it.

‘Can I ask,’ you say with as much casual air as you’re able. ‘Just who did pay you to find me?’

Your escort doesn’t turn but lifts his helmet some. ‘I believe the job is from your uncle,’ he says.

Your mouth falls open before you can stop it. He’s actually done it, you think in wonder. But why now?

Thoughts tumble upon themselves in your head. You register that your companion hasn’t made any move to say more.

‘So who are you?’ you ask. The broad silhouette stops his work for a moment. He seems to be considering.

‘I’m just a bounty hunter,’ he murmurs. ‘You can call me Mando.’

MNext

#the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #grogu #mandalorian and grogu #razor crest #mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal #i dont know what im doing here #i just love the space tin man #and his green kid

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karatekels · 7 months

Text

Unjust Reward - Chapter 2

Part 1 here

I said it yesterday, and I'll say it again: this is dark, bad, terrible. If you are not ready and wanting to read non-con, DO NOT READ THIS.

That said, this was a disturbing amount of fun to write. Evil!Terry ftw.

TW: Violence, sexual assault, rape, non-con, graphic sex, dirty talk, gaslighting.

---

“Guess you shoulda listened to Danny-Boy, huh?” Terry says, slowly circling you like a snake coiling around its prey. You turn your head, trying to keep your eyes on him, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

“What are you talking about?”

“Please don’t go see him again, Y/N! He’s not good for you; he’s not good for anyone!” he mocks in a high voice, cackling at his impression of Daniel.

But Daniel had said those exact words to you a few days ago in the park. You thought you had been alone.

He had been there? Had he been the source of that snapping branch that you’d pulled Danny away from?

“You were there?” you ask him with horror, staring at the ground. You feel dizzy; you feel sick.

He gives you a wide smile, as though he had told you wonderful news.

“I should be thanking you. LaRusso may be a naïve little shit, but he probably would’ve found me if you hadn’t pulled him back…”

Your knees go weak, and you sink to the ground.

“I’ve been asking myself what I would have done if LaRusso had spotted me the other day,” Terry continues casually, squatting down across from you, his weight on the balls of his feet like he was prepared to pounce.

“I think I would’ve snatched you up then, Danny-Boy be damned. I’ve thought about this for so long. You’ve been keeping me up at night; I just can’t get the thought of making you mine out of my head.”

You whimper in fear at this confession, and you swear you see his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate in response to the sound.

“I had hoped that having you once would be enough to get you out of my system, but having you here now… I’m not so sure.”

He slides forward suddenly, halving the distance between you, and you scurry backwards on your palms before shakily forcing yourself to your feet.

“Terry, don’t do this, please,” you sob, your focus torn between looking for a way out and never taking your eyes off of him. You’ve never been so scared before in your entire life. “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this, I promise.”

Terry slowly gets to his feet, still managing to tower over you from twenty feet away, and gives you a soft, pitying smile.

“You won’t tell anyone about this regardless,” he says with confidence, not at all worried that there may be repercussions for keeping you here against your will, threatening – no, promising to force himself on you if you didn’t offer yourself to him freely.

“Do you know why you came here, sweetheart? Even though you know better?” he coos, slowly approaching you like you were a bird about to fly away; you wish more than anything that you were. Instead, you back away from him until your back hits a cold, smooth wall. You groan, a noise of pure terror escaping you, and you see Terry lick his lips as he closes in on you.

“Because you need me. You can’t stay away, no matter how hard you try to play the innocent, good girl next door.”

He holds you in a cruel imitation of a hug, trapping you in his arms and pinning yours to your sides. You feel him bury his nose in your hair, and he inhales deeply, letting out a deep, primal groan that makes you shudder violently against him.

“I told you before – I’ve seen how you look at me. You’re so overwhelmed by your want, even though you do your best to hide it, to deny it. But I see it, doll. I see everything.”

“No, I don’t –” you try to deny him, but he silences you, pushing your head into his chest. You want to bite him, hurt him and get away, but it might just set him off and make him even more depraved at this point.

“I know, I know. You want to keep playing the sweet, innocent virgin forever, and make me get my hands dirty. That’s alright with me,” he says, pressing his body more firmly against yours and crushing you between himself and the wall. “In fact, I’m thrilled about it. Gifts can be nice, but I much prefer taking what I want.”

“But you saved me!” you protest, unable to reconcile this monster with the man that had saved you, the man you had been so drawn to. He leans away at your words to look down at you, a broad smile on his face.

“I did save you,” he agrees, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “…for myself.”

From somewhere deep within you, an angry, appalled scream bursts out of you, and you somehow manage to swing both your hands together, sending a punch right to his gut that sends him stumbling back. Turning, you run back into the office, forcing a chair underneath the doorknob. You’re not sure how long it’ll hold for, but hopefully it’s long enough for you to break the window and escape.

You drop to the ground, frantically looking for something heavy enough to throw through the glass, your heart beating a mile a minute as you hear him running to the door, throwing his weight against it with a loud bang. You find a set of dumbbells in a corner under the bed and grab one, rushing over to the window. Taking one end in both hands, you swing back, preparing to throw it through the window. You’ll probably only get one shot at this…

There’s a horrible crash behind you, and you’re knocked to the ground by the chair, pieces of the door – he had smashed right through it – and Terry himself. You cry out in pain as everything lands on top of you, but it may as well be a whisper compared to the shriek of terror you let out when Terry’s hand tangles in your hair, roughly pulling you to your feet.

“Let go of me!” you scream, your body seeming to finally lean in to the ‘Fight’ response. You swing your knee up as hard as you can, hoping to hit him in the balls and incapacitate him long enough for you to get away, but he clamps his thighs together hard around your leg, catching it in mid-swing. You let out a wail of pain as he squeezes your leg with both of his own, bending you back with a tug of your hair as you struggle to keep your balance on one leg.

“You may have been able to fight back against those pricks out there, but do you really think you stand a chance against me?” he pants, looking down at you in your awkward, trapped position. He brings your head closer to him, using his grip on your hair to tilt your head back and expose your throat. He licks a possessive trail up the side of your neck that makes you cry out in disgust, then takes your ear into his mouth and bites it just hard enough to sting. You whine, your eyes filling with tears.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for me again?” he asks, his voice husky in your ear, breath hot on your neck and making you squirm. He chuckles darkly against your skin as you react to him. “Though I have to say, I do like this fiery side of you. She should come out to play more often.”

With an inhuman screech you move to hit him in the side, but this time he expects it, turning his body to the side to dodge, the momentum of your swing sending you tumbling onto the bed as he releases your leg, shoving you to the mattress. Before you can get your bearings, he’s on top of you, his massive body pressing insistently against yours. You thrash underneath him, but he’s got you pinned, and as you feel him grinding his erection against you, you realize that you’re only egging him on.

“Fuck, you feel so good like this,” Terry groans in your ear, confirming your theory. “Trying so desperately to get away from me, Y/N, and for what? You know you can’t escape me.”

His words seem to suck the energy right out of you, and you go limp and still beneath him. He was right, wasn’t he? Trying to fight back or escape was only going to give him reason to hurt you more.

“Oh, is that it now? Do you give up?” he asks, pressing you into the mattress with his body as he leans down to whisper the mocking words in your ear. “Pathetic.”

“Terry, please,” you try begging him again, knowing it was the only option you have left. With your head turned to the side, you can see his silhouette in your peripheral vision, and try to look up at him with a pleading expression. “Please stop hurting me. This isn’t you, I know it’s not!”

All you had to do was appeal to a shred of humanity that lurked somewhere inside him, and then you’d have a chance…

“You’re right.”

You freeze at the words. Had you really gotten through to him that easily?

Slowly, he sits back, pulling you up with him until you’re both in kneeling positions. You hold your breath, your eyes clenched shut, trying not to tremble.

“I should stop hurting you,” he croons, and you feel his arms come around you in something resembling a hug. “Let’s start making you feel good.”

He grabs the hem of your shirt with both hands, trying to pull it over your head, and you instinctively fight him, throwing your head back and colliding it with his chin, hard. The impact stuns you and you slump forward, dazed and unable to move or speak.

Faintly, you feel Terry slowly, almost tenderly removing your clothes, taking advantage of your immobility.

“I don’t like you hurting, babygirl,” he coos down at you as he works your shorts and underwear down your legs. “Try to just relax and let yourself feel good.”

“Terry… no…” you groan, slowly regaining the ability to speak. You taste blood on your tongue. He clucks his tongue at you disparagingly, tugging your shirt off and quickly divesting you of your bra, leaving you naked beneath him.

“So gorgeous,” he breathes, ignoring your protests as he strokes your skin possessively. “A few bruises here and there, but nothing too bad. I hope you don’t earn any more, don’t you sweetheart?”

You don’t respond, and Terry presses his thumb down firmly on one of the large bruises on your thigh, making a hiss of pain push past your lips. “Don’t you, Y/N?” he growls, gradually increasing the pressure of his thumb.

“Yes, yes!” you cry out desperately, gasping in relief when he removes his thumb.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asks innocently, stroking your hair gently as he gazes down on your crumpled form beneath him. You shy away from his hand reflexively, and he sighs, clenching his jaw as he quickly flips you onto your back, pinning your hands against the mattress when you try to cover your chest.

“I can make this so good for you, Y/N,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss your cheek in a weak parody of affection. “Let all this resistance go, and I’ll have you begging for more,” he coaxes, stroking your wrists with his thumbs. His eyes follow the path of the few tears that leak out from the corners of your closed eyes, and he wonders what they taste like. “Whaddaya say, doll?”

“No,” you tell him firmly, your eyes blazing as they open again and lock onto his. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

Terry’s eyes lose the sparkle of amusement they’ve had the whole time he’s been tormenting you, darkening to a flat black, and you know you’ve said the wrong thing. His lip curls as he lets out an animalistic snarl, and he reels back, slapping you hard, his large hand managing to strike the entire side of your face, including the bandage he had gently applied not even an hour ago.

You cry out, your head whipping to the side, but you’re unable to lift a hand to your cheek before his hands roughly flip you over onto your stomach. He pins you down with a knee on your lower back, and you hear the sound of his belt as he takes off his clothes. He shifts down, keeping you still with an elbow digging into your back now, his free hand reaching down to pull off his pants, refusing to give you even a second to try to escape. Your cries ring out loudly in the room despite being muffled, your face buried in the blankets as you sob.

Terry slides back and off of you, pulling your hips with him so that you’re on your knees before him, the rest of you still slumped onto the mattress. He squeezes the flesh of your hips hard, making you whimper, and you feel his bare, hard cock grind against your entrance. You try to lurch away, but he holds fast to your hips, digging his nails into your skin.

“I’m torn, Y/N,” he tells you, kneading your ass as he talks to you casually. “Torn between fucking you hard and rough until you’re begging for mercy, or making you come until you’re begging for more.” You shudder beneath him, and he lets out a harsh laugh.

“Yeah, you’d hate yourself for coming on my cock, wouldn’t you?” he taunts, sliding his cock against your folds. You arch your back, trying to shy away from the contact, and he lets you. You hear him spit and let out a grunt of pleasure, and when he presses his cock against you again, it’s wet with his saliva, and you shiver at the implication of what that means for you. “You know what? I can have both.”

He kneels on the soles of your feet, preventing you from escaping, and you feel him spread you open with his large hands.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he hums approvingly, and your fists clench the blankets more tightly, humiliated and terrified. “And all for me.” He spits directly onto your entrance, making you feel filthy, one of his large fingers forcing its way inside you.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, pumping his finger in and out of you. “My cock’s gonna break you, sweetheart.” You can hear the patronizing pout in his voice, but are too scared about his words to care; him mocking you was the least of your worries.

“But you’re gonna take it all for me, babygirl. Just like you were meant to.”

He withdraws his finger from inside you, bringing his hand around to your face, holding out two fingers.

“Suck my fingers, baby; get them nice and wet. And if your teeth go anywhere near them, I’ll pull them out, one by one,” he warns, and you let out an audible gasp at the threat. Terry takes the opportunity to shove his fingers into your mouth, pumping them in and out and triggering your gag reflex a few times. You try to keep still, crying softly, and after a minute or so, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately sliding them back into your pussy, stretching you out.

“You’re so hot when you obey me,” Terry groans, the pace of his fingers increasing. “I knew you could be a good girl for me, Y/N. You know what good girls get?” he asks, letting out a hum of approval when you immediately shake your head. It wasn’t as good as you answering him with your words, but it was a step in the right direction. “They get rewarded.”

He presses his fingers against a certain spot inside you that makes you buck your hips and cry out in surprise. He chuckles lowly at your reaction, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame.

“You like that, baby? Did that feel good?” he asks you in a rough, teasing voice, and again you shake your head. “No? Your pretty pussy is telling me different, doll.” Sure enough, his fingers move inside you more easily. You’re getting wet, you realize with horror.

“No!” you cry, repeating the word as you sob. You don’t want this.

“I’ll prove it to you, baby; I’ll make you come before I make you mine; how’s that?” Terry says, his tone soothing but his words having the opposite effect. He turns you onto your back like a ragdoll; you’re too tired and scared to fight. You know that if you do anything that makes him feel anything close to pain that he won’t hesitate to give it back to you tenfold, and you’re already pretty beaten up.

Terry crawls up on top of you, and before you can turn your head away he’s caught your lips with his own, his hands running up and down your sides possessively. You squirm against him, trying not to move your mouth in any way that could be considered kissing him back, ignoring the way his tongue tries to coax yours to tangle with his.

Not at all deterred by your lack of response, he lets you turn your head to the side, laving kisses up and down your neck, his hands coming up to massage your breasts. He lets out a groan of pleasure as he caresses your breasts, kneading them gently; you bite your tongue, forcing yourself to remain unmoved.

“Your skin is so soft, Y/N,” he moans against your neck as you fight to keep still. In one fluid motion, he rolls both of your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and you can’t help the whine that escapes you, even as you bite your bottom lip to try to keep it from getting out. You feel Terry grin against your neck, and hate yourself with every fibre of your being.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos encouragingly in your ear. “Let me make you feel good. You know I’m going to have you either way; you may as well enjoy it.”

“I don’t want to enjoy this!” you scream at him in frustration, your tears flowing freely now. He kisses them as they fall, savouring your taste, and you whimper at the sensation.

“Why?” he asks calmly, utterly unfazed by your screaming and crying. “What are you afraid of, someone finding out that you like this? I won’t tell if you won’t,” he promises coyly. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Y/N. I don’t want to hurt you more–”

“Then let me go!” you shriek, hiccupping through your sobs.

“No.”

One of his hands comes around your throat, squeezing gently in warning, and you immediately fall silent and still.

“This is happening, Y/N,” he tells you bluntly but not cruelly. “I’m making you mine tonight.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, as though he was discussing the weather and not whether or not you would be complicit in your own assault. “I’ll stop trying to make it good for you if you’re just going to fight me on it, but it’s going to make things a lot more painful for you. Is that what you want?” Terry looks straight into your eyes as he asks the question, like he’s trying to search your soul for the answer.

You take a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes, and for once this evening Terry seems amenable to giving you a moment to yourself.

Was this even something you were capable of? Enjoying him forcing himself on you, or at least not fighting back? How could you live with yourself if you just let this happen? You would hate yourself everyday…

But at the same time, Terry was giving you the option to get through tonight without hurting you. Maybe that would be worth it, for both your body and your psyche. Before learning the truth about him, you had been attracted to him, interested in him… was there any part of that desire still within you after all this that you could cling to, just to get you through the night?

You open your eyes, forcing yourself to look at him, taking in his naked body for the first time. As your eyes roam over the pale flesh of his chest, you try to only think about the memories from before, the things he had done to make you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach.

After taking a moment to look at all of him – your face flushing despite yourself as you take in the sight of his large, hard member – you manage to bring your eyes up to his face without flinching or looking away. You try not to feel too proud of yourself for your newfound ability to dissociate.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he asks, and you bite your lip. You should’ve known that he wouldn’t make this easy on you.

“I… I’ll stop r-resisting you.” You force the words out, trying to keep your breathing somewhat regular.

“You will?” he asks, sounding slightly surprised.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?” the question comes out weak and shaky. You don’t know why you’re trying to elicit a promise from him; the man was a psychopath that couldn’t be trusted for even a second.

“I can’t promise that it won’t hurt when I’m first inside you, but as long as you don’t give me a reason to, I won’t hurt you, Y/N.” Well, at least he had been upfront about something tonight.

“Then okay,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about what you’re saying. “I’ll try to relax.”

“Relax and enjoy, beautiful,” Terry croons, his arms coming around your waist as he slowly lowers you onto your back. You don’t resist, focusing on the parts of him that don’t make you want to recoil from his touch. His body comes on top of yours, skin-on-skin, but this time he holds his weight off of you instead of trapping you against the mattress.

“Want you so bad, babygirl,” he moans against your skin, laying kisses all over your neck and across your collarbone. “Wanted you for so long.”

Against your better judgement, you slowly raise your hands to wrap them around his neck, trailing them up to his ponytail. You grip it in one hand, causing him to pause and look down at you, his blue eyes flashing a warning, but you force yourself to maintain his gaze, calmly releasing his hair from the ponytail, running your fingers through it slowly.

It helped him look like somebody else.

A pleased rumble emanates from Terry’s chest and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your chest. He eagerly moves down your body, his hands and lips never leaving your skin as he slowly slides down to your chest. For some reason, you don’t feel self-conscious; you suppose you’re far past that point now.

He gently takes your breasts in his hands, his rough palms rubbing your nipples, and you feel them getting hard from the attention. He slowly rolls your breasts in circles, the motion surprisingly sending a warm tingling sensation low down in your belly, and you buck your hips ever-so-slightly upwards at the feeling.

Terry purrs, catching the movement; he never missed anything. Pleased, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue as his fingers toy with the other.

You let out a muffled whimper that you hide behind a hand, the other clutching the blanket beneath you. Terry releases you from his mouth, pausing his ministrations to look up at you from under his eyelashes with a lustful expression.

“Don’t hide from me, doll. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he implores you, maintaining eye contact as he drags his tongue from the bottom of your breast to the top, laving directly over your nipple. You moan, forcing your hand away from your mouth to mirror your other, clutching the sheets with both fists now, and feel Terry grin as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Sliding back up your body somewhat to watch your face, he uses his fingers to tease your nipples until you can’t help but arch up against him.

“You have such perfect, perky tits,” he whispers obscenely, taking in the way you squirm and turn red at his dirty talk with a wicked grin. “And you’re still so innocent, even for a virgin. Such a sweet, pure, good girl, aren’t you Y/N?” he asks, and you nod reluctantly, hoping desperately that he’s not going to make you say it.

No such luck.

“I want you to say it, sweetheart,” he says, watching you bite your lip with hesitation. He leans in and you flinch, worried he’s going to hurt you. Instead, he moves to speak in your ear, his fingers never ceasing to play with your breasts.

“Say it, Y/N; I bet it’ll make you wet for me.” He lightly pinches both your nipples as he whispers to you, and you cry out, feeling a throbbing in your clit.

“I’m a good girl!” you moan out shamelessly, and he tweaks your nipples again as you give in, causing another wave of arousal to wash over you.

“Mmm, yes you are,” he agrees, humming approvingly, his eyes dark with lust. He trails one hand down your body between your legs, and you tense slightly. He targets a sensitive spot on your collarbone, giving it a hot, open-mouthed kiss and sucking on the flesh there, making you relax and leaving a love bite on your skin. He runs a long finger along your slit, and while you’re still feeling tender from him roughly entering you earlier, you feel your entrance slick with your juices.

“So wet for me, aren’t you babygirl?” he asks, and this time you don’t need any instructions as his finger lightly flits across your clit.

“Yes!” you cry out, rolling your hips against his hand. “I’m so wet!”

“Good girl,” he hisses, thrilled by your response, and rewards you by slipping a finger inside of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb in a way that has you going weak in the knees. “Who made your pussy wet? Tell me.”

“Unh…oh, fuck!” you cry out as he angles his finger, hitting your G-spot again. “You did, Terry! I’m wet for you,” you moan wantonly, your face burning with humiliation. He makes that pleased rumbling in his chest again, and the sound makes your toes curl. He slips in a second finger with ease, pumping them in and out, and you’re mortified at the wet sounds he’s dragging out of your body.

“Damn right you’re wet for me,” he growls, sitting up now so he can watch how your whole body responds to him, his eyes feverishly bright. “This is mine,” he purrs, suddenly adding a third finger to your cunt that has you keening as you arch off the bed. “Gonna make this pretty pussy come and then I’m gonna make it mine,” he groans, and your eyes roll back in your head at his dirty talk. Why did someone who could make you feel like this have to be such a monster?

Terry quickens the pace of his fingers, pulling you away from that train of thought, and starts curling them against the spot that makes you see stars with every stroke, making you mewl desperately as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he demands, rubbing your clit steadily even as he keeps his fingers thrusting inside your pussy, and it isn’t long before you come hard with a scream, your legs clamping down on Terry’s hand and trapping it there. He leans down, kissing you deeply, and this time you find yourself kissing him back. This clearly pleases him, and he groans into your mouth, running his hands lightly up and down your body.

“You’re gorgeous when you come apart for me.”

You blush furiously at the compliment, still feeling embarrassed and trying to stay in this safe headspace you had created for yourself.

Terry widens his stance on his knees, spreading your legs wider to either side of him, and reaches down, coating his fingers in your juices and stroking his cock as he looks down at you spread out beneath him. You immediately start trembling, trying to calm yourself down. Terry’s hands return to your sides, stroking them soothingly and helping you relax again.

You feel his erection prodding your entrance, and instinctively reach up for him as you tense up. He takes in your gesture with dark eyes, before taking the base of his cock in one hand, steadying it while pushing just the head inside you before lowering the rest of his body to be closer to you, giving you the comfort you’re craving.

“I’ve got you, doll,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against yours, and you make a noncommittal noise, digging your nails into his back as you grip his shoulders. He hisses, thrusting himself slightly deeper inside of you reflexively. “Gonna take you, gotta make you mine,” he whispers huskily, and you’re not sure whether he’s talking to you or himself.

Without drawing it out, Terry thrusts his hips forward, filling you in one motion before stilling inside of you. You let out a soft cry as he stretches you, but it’s not nearly as bad as you had been anticipating. He peppers your face with kisses, cooing words of encouragement and comfort that have you melting against him, rocking your hips experimentally.

“That’s it,” he hisses in pleasure. “There’s my good girl, Y/N.”

He pulls back before surging forward again, immediately setting a hard and fast pace. There’s some pleasure to it, but your body isn’t used to this new and unfamiliar exercise, and it starts to feel like he’s bruising you from the inside out.

“Terry, please! Not so hard!” you whimper, but he doesn’t change his pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can get, his hands coming down to grip your bruised hips tightly.

“Relax, doll,” he says, his lip curling in a grimace as he loses himself in pleasure. “Time for me to get what I want.”

You shudder, tears coming to your eyes at the rough treatment, and your protective shield of ignorance shatters as you come face-to-face with the reality of your situation. You cry quietly as he snaps his hips against yours, chasing his own release, hoping that you won’t set him off again with your tears.

After a few minutes of him fucking you into the mattress, he slides a hand up your body, wrapping it around your throat once again.

“Say my name,” he demands in a rough voice, squeezing your neck lightly in warning.

“Terry!” you squeal in pain and terror, and with his eyes clenched shut, he seems to mistake it for a pleasured moan of his name.

Growling his approval, licks a sloppy path up the bruised side of your face, making you whimper.

“Say it again; don’t stop until I fill you up.”

You force his name from your lips as many times as you can, uncaring of how they sound. You feel strangely numb as he ruts into you like an animal, and are only brought back to earth when he comes inside you, the feeling strange and unpleasant. He moans your name with his release.

“Y/N… my girl.”

He collapses to the side of you to avoid crushing you, the tiny cot somehow big enough to fit you both and support your weight, though you’re still trapped beneath an arm and a leg. You try not to cry, waiting until Terry starts to snore before you slowly worm your way out from underneath him, crawling to the bottom of the bed to climb off, find your clothes and get the fuck out of there. You feel yourself leaking Terry’s come down your thighs, and the sensation almost has you vomiting.

A large hand closes around your ankle as you try to clamber off the bed, and you yelp in surprise.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Getting dressed. Going home?” you ask hopefully, and he laughs at the tone of your voice, pulling you back onto the bed with ease and trapping you in his arms.

“You can’t go out with your face looking like that,” he states, as though it were obvious. “People will ask too many questions. You’ll be staying with me until you’re all better.”

You wrap your arms around yourself in a hug, trying to ignore the feel of Terry’s doing the same to you.

“But, but I thought that once you… once we…” you stammer, and he laughs through a carefree yawn.

“I told you that having you once might not be enough for me,” he reminds you, shrugging before nuzzling into your hair, and you whimper, stiffening against him. Did he really just expect you to play house with him after everything that happened tonight?

“Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart,” he purrs sleepily, his arm tightening around your waist. “Even if you manage to get away from me, you can’t get out of here without a key to the door. I don’t want to have to tie you down just to get some sleep.”

You slump bonelessly in his arms, scowling. He was right, and you were too tired and sore to do anything about it.

“Good girl,” he coos in your ear, stroking your body as he feels you give up. “I’ll take you to my doctor tomorrow to get you patched up. This pretty face shouldn’t be all banged up,” he says, laying a sloppy kiss on your cheek, one hand coming up under your chin to hold your head steady. Your only form of protest is the silent tears pouring down your face.

“Try not to give me a reason to make it look like this again.”

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #karate kid #kk3 #the karate kid 3 #smut #dark desires october #extremely dark #graphic smut #trigger warnings aplenty

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liapher · 2 years

Text

Map of the World by @seperis

[Click on the pictures for better resolution.]

I read Map for the first time last year, and a couple months later decided to already reread it. The first time around, you're dropped into this story without knowing what's going on in terms of either the character dynamics or the setting, and it's like a puzzle you get to try to figure out. It's delightful! The second time around, you start out with a lot more puzzle pieces at hand (but absolutely not all of them yet!) and you manage to connect so many more dots. (I swore to myself to not go overboard and still ended up with a ten-way colour-coding system with stickers and writing margin notes. More recently, I decided to read all the comments on the Map AO3 pages, and they are so much fun to read! So many readers have shared really insightful observations, and the author has written a lot of very interesting replies as well. But having to switch back and forth between the story and the comment section is a bit of a bother, and I sensed an interesting typographical challenge, and that's how I found myself typesetting the fic again while adding foot- and margin notes to my heart's content. The book ended up being so long though that I decided to split it into two parts :-)

As for the cover of the first half: Each of the DTA fics introduces you---and the main characters---to a new, larger part of the world. In Map, the focus lies on Cas's cabin as the foundation for the relationship between the two main characters is laid, so Dean and the reader have to open the bead curtain together to get to that part of the story. If I ever get around to giving a similar treatment to the other fics in the series, the cover design would continue correspondingly: opening the gate to Chitaqua for Stars, entering Ichabod's main square for Lights, and stepping through one of the paintings in the white room for Game.

[Typesetting and crafting notes under the cut]

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Typesetting

Okay so the thing is I love very involved typesetting. It's neat to look at, fun to plan (or as a reader, try to reverse engineer the typesetter's decisions), allows you to be a bit of a control freak about all details etc etc. The point of this typesetting project was to include lots and lots of commentary, so my priorities were:

maintain a clear visual distinction between the text and the comments

make the comments easy to read

keep the comments close to the lines they refer to

I used a combination of footnotes and margin notes to make the most of the available space. Margin notes are used whenever a comment is short enough; footnotes otherwise. Fortunately, I was able to typeset the text in such a way that there's no more than one new footnote per page, so I got away with just reusing the degree symbol ° to introduce footnotes and didn't have to work with a numbering system. Most margin notes refer to specific lines as well and here I got to add my favourite little typesetting detail: a manicule :) I based its design on this hand-drawn one.

Other notes: The longest comment is nearly 5 full pages long and is a comment thread about Dean not realizing how laundry works at Chitaqua lol.

I also wanted to prioritize reading comfort, so the margins are rather generous and based on the canons of page construction, and the leading is relatively generous: the body text is set in 11/14 and the comments in 8/12. The drawback is that this means I ended up with a lot more pages than planned (over six hundred). I also don't love that the baselines of the body text and the comments only line up every 6/7 lines, but every other leading option I tried out ended up making the text harder to read---can't have everything at once I guess.

I decided to not include any headers and footers since I think they'd only have made the page appear more crammed without actually adding a lot of useful information. Instead, the page numbers are in the margins, sharing a baseline with the topmost line of text. The beginning of each chapter and/or day is still easy to find since those black tab-like day number indicators extend all the way to the fore-edge:

2. The text block

I wanted these books to have a nice 2:3 (14 cm × 21 cm) page ratio, which meant I needed to trim the fore edge. I had a bit of a paper trimming disaster with another book last week, but for these books I found a method that worked better for me: Use the blade of the cutter to line up the end of the ruler with the spine of the signature at the head of the page, use the cutter to make a tiny cut at the 14 cm mark, repeat at the bottom of the page, and then use the marks you made as a guideline for where to place the ruler to actually cut away the edge.

This is the first time I sewed a book on tapes. I didn't have bona fide bookbinding tape and just used some leftover non-stretchy woven cotton tape (width: 1.5 cm) I had lying around. I followed the video tutorial by DAS. I don't have a sewing frame, but the tape was fairly stiff, so just letting about 2 cm of the tape protrude at the top worked like a charm.

3. Headbands

I followed the two-colour headband instructions by DAS and used a leather band with a diameter of ~1.5 mm as well as some three-ply thread that I got by separating a six-ply embroidery thread. This worked pretty well---the stiff leather band was easier to work with than the shoelace I used last time (mostly because of its even circumference). The slightly tricky thing about the embroidery thread is that the different strands sometimes try to bunch up on top of one another instead of lying flat, but I'm happy with the results. Per headband, the ideal length to work with for this kind of thread and a text block spine width of 23--25 mm was ~30 cm for the green one and ~55 cm for the blue one.

After finishing the headbands, I glued some (80 GSM) paper to the spine---but only between the tapes, to sliightly even out that difference.

4. The case

I followed DAS's video on the square back bradel binding.

The straightforward case:

Front & back: 216 mm x 140 mm

Spine: 23 mm (text block) / 26 mm (case)

Hinge: 7 mm

For the cloth-to-paper ratio of the half binding, I just picked what looked good rather than following the general ratio recommendations. Before gluing on the paper, I used a blue pen to make a couple subtle marks on the bookcloth, which helped a lot while trying to quickly place the paper.

To case in the book, I found it easiest to add a little glue to the spine edge of the back cover, put in the text block and do some quick readjustments, shut the book, let it dry for a few minutes, and then paste down the rest of the back endpaper (maybe in two or three more goes---add glue to the next couple cm, go wild with the bonefolder, repeat). Add glue to all of the front endpaper, shut the book, open it again, go wild with the bonefolder to smooth everything out, done.

For the wrap-around case, I ended up just winging it. It's mostly a square back bradel binding though.

Front, left: 216 mm × 102 mm (at the top)

Back: 216 mm × 145 mm

Spine: 25 mm (text block) / 28 mm (case)

Fore-edge piece: 19 mm

Front, right: 42 mm

The fore-edge piece is thinner than the spine piece since, unlike the latter, it's directly wedged between two pieces of bookboard, and the text block is thicker at the spine than at the fore-edge. I had initially tried making the spine and the wrap-around section level, but that looked a bit silly since you could see the gap between the text block and the right part of the cover.

For the wrap-around part, I glued the back, the fore-edge piece, and the right part of the front cover to a piece of paper (80 GSM), with one board width (2 mm) in between. In retrospect, I should've maybe added 0.5 mm to the hinge between the fore-edge piece and the front so it shuts more easily.

To secure the leather straps with the clasp, I cut two grooves into the bookboard: (Ignore that I obviously only thought of that after I'd already glued the bookcloth to the board, and also ignore the remnants of some paper that are glued to the right edge of the back cover...)

I cut out a couple small bookcloth triangles and used them to fill in the gaps along the back of the curved edge.

I painted on the cover design with some acrylic paint---super fiddly and it took forever, and unfortunately I only did it after casing in the book---before would've been easier. Oh well! I used a pencil to draw guide lines; fortunately it can just be erased from the cloth without leaving a mark or damaging the (dried) paint. (I tried this out on a scrap piece of bookcloth beforehand.)

⁂

In conclusion:

DTA, my beloved

Comments, my beloved

Involved typesetting and crafting projects, my beloved

#down to agincourt #dta #bookbinding #book design #mission update #crafts tag #this was so much work but i'm so happy with how it turned out :)

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