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goldsainz · 9 months

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TALK IT OUT — one shot.

pairing: mick schumacher x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix

summary: misunderstandings are never fun, especially when others are involved.

request: “can we have an angst prompt? i personally want to see mick cry because nobody did write him crying yet - lmk if someone did please ❛ why are you avoiding me? ❜ + mick schumacher”

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst to comfort, the ending is rushed im sorry.

NOTE: first mick fic ever… kinda nervous, kinda excited about it. also hope i did your idea justice, i actually struggled to write sad mick bc he should never be sad as far as i’m concerned😭 that is my golden boy and i will fight for him if needed. (this is like 800 words longer than intended it to)

[ word count: 1,6k ]

Tabloids always lied. You knew this, yet there was a small part of you that knew that beneath all those lies a little bit of the truth always shone from beneath them.

You trusted Mick with your whole heart, something that was essential considering he could be gone for several weeks or even months. It wasn’t that you lacked trust in him, you didn’t trust your own overthinking and negative thoughts.

But this time was different, something in your gut told you that this time was different. Something about the way the photo was taken and the way he was smiling, it just didn't make sense. Especially knowing he had told he had no plans of going out. But there he was, smiling down at a girl who looked nothing like you while you waited for him to come back from working abroad.

Suddenly, all the emotions and excitement you had about him coming home turned into pure dread as you figured out what the hell you were going to do. There was a chance that Mick didn’t cheat on you, but the chance felt too foreign for your broken heart to even consider. If Mick was the man you thought he was, he wasn’t someone who would betray you like that, but the situation was too bad to think straight.

It was late at night when your boyfriend arrived, you heard the door open and close all while clutching your pillow tightly. You hoped he would just see your form and assume you’re asleep, leaving you and your thoughts alone. You hoped he wouldn’t take notice of the tears that damped the pillow, the way your breath stuttered a little from all the crying.

The rustle from his bags didn’t stir you. He didn’t call your name like he usually did when he arrived home late from a weeks-long trip. You assumed he didn’t call for you because he saw your “sleeping” form and chose to leave you alone, probably because he knew how much you loved to sleep and knew better than to wake you up.

After a while, the bed dipped as Mick made himself comfortable beneath the bed sheets. He settled next to you, moving around as he draped an arm around your waist. For a moment you relaxed slightly from his touch, like all the worries in the world could be erased simply because he touched you. In all honesty, his absence has made you slightly touch-starved and you let yourself have this moment of peace because you had craved it for weeks. It didn’t take long for reality to settle in though. The reminder of his actions haunted you, it had since you saw the tabloid just mere hours ago.

You fell eventually asleep, albeit late and with a struggle. The heat of Mick’s body had killed you to sleep and the tiredness of being sad had your body calling it a night.

Waking up wasn’t easy. You wanted to pretend the day before had occurred, and in your head if you were asleep forever then you didn’t have to confront whatever happened. A part of you knew that if Mick didn’t do what the article suggested he did, then your relationship could either go on like it was or it would never be the same. You knew yourself, you knew that a small part of you would always have the nagging thought of “what if”, a thought that would follow you around forever.

You stretched as you got out of bed, feeling your boyfriend's sleeping form not shift in the slightest. You brushed your teeth and did your morning routine like usual, just this time with a terrible feeling at the pit of your stomach.

It wasn’t long after that Mick woke up, his eyes tired and his blonde hair a mess. You had your back turned to him as you prepared breakfast, this time instead of making it for the both of you, you just did two toasts and a glass of juice for yourself.

“Hey, how are you?” He said, his voice raspy from just waking up. You just took a bite of your toast and ignored his words, almost acting as if he wasn’t standing near you.

If Mick found your acting strange, he didn’t outright mention it. Instead, he leaned down and went to press a kiss to your lips, just for you to turn your head sideways as you pretended to grab the glass of juice. His lips met your cheek, and while he would never complain about how he kissed you, Mick had been longing to kiss you ever since he left you. It was something he always looked forward to doing whenever he had to leave for long periods of time, or even short ones.

“I missed you.” His voice is unsure now. Unsure about your actions and if you will respond to him. Your humming to his words does little to console the feeling he gets from you ignoring him.

You place the used dishware in the sink, the clattering of the plates disturbs the uncomfortable silence that surrounds you both.

Usually Mick knows how to keep his negative emotions in check pretty well. He never shouts when he’s mad, or cries when he’s upset, he just tries his best to talk out whatever is happening. But right now, having his girlfriend avoid him when he’s come back from an exhausting trip, is just too much for him to comprehend.

You haven’t even done much to get him teary-eyed, it’s just the simple fact that he craves your attention and you’re not giving it to him. He doesn’t even know why you can’t be bothered to give him the time of day, or why you seem so uncomfortable around him.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Mick asks you after some time goes by, watching as you do everything around the room except look at him. Something in you cracks at the way his voice breaks while asking the question, you know that if you look up at him and see his glossy eyes you will crumble under them. You will throw any anger you have towards him out the window, and as much as you want to, you need more than that to forgive or even forget whatever happened.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” “If I knew why you were avoiding me I wouldn’t be asking.”

“What were you doing Thursday night?” His face is one of confusion, his brows furrowing and nose slightly scrunching up as he assesses your question.

“What?”

“What were you doing Thursday night?” You repeat, this time your voice cracks as you ask him the one question you dread to hear the answer from.

“I worked at the factory till late at night.”

“That’s all? So, you didn’t go out at all?”

Mick’s face is one of pure frustration. Frustration because he can’t believe how oblivious he had been to your feelings, how he went out and you didn’t mention anything about it. Frustration because he should’ve known that the media would get to him and by relation, in between the two of you.

“I did.” He admits, “But it was with a couple of friends, whatever it is that you saw is not what it looks like. I swear.”

“You just coincidentally had a girl all up on you, and you just smiled down at her?”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. I wished I could say I did, but honestly, if there was a girl next to me I can assure you I wasn’t smiling because of her or to her, for that matter.”

An unshed tear falls down his cheek at the assumption you're making. The notion that you would ever think he would be unfaithful to you breaks his heart into a million little pieces, like he knows yours did the moment the idea that he cheated on you settled in.

“I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like I would cheat on you.” Mick approaches you slowly, wary of the way you might react. He doesn't think he would bear it if you pulled away from his touch, but he would understand. “But I would never ever do that. I need you to know that.”

When your boyfriend finally reaches you, you can't help but lean into his touch. The hug he gives you is almost crushing, likes he's scared you will run away from him at any given moment. It is just as comforting as it is devastating the way he is holding you, a part of you is grateful that he is so honest and raw with you, but there is a part of you that cant help and question if his words hold any truth, if he is not like many of the other men you've known through the course of your life.

“I want to believe you.” You whisper against him, “I really do, Mick.”

His chin is pressed to the top of your head and you feel him shift to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to, schatz, and that's a promise.” There is something about the way he says that, something about the sincerity his words hold that makes you believe him. It wipes away the worries you had and replaces them with pure love, in your heart of hearts you know that Mick would never intentionally hurt you, and if he could help it, ever.

You know just by his words that you’ll be alright.

No matter the tabloids or the drama that follows you, you'll be alright.

569 notes · View notes

ohnococo · 3 months

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Fight Night | CHAPTER 4 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.” Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

Two months after you last closed the door on your "situation" with Sukuna, he sends you a message.

Notes: There's a tone shift here, and some development of reader i.e. explicitly stated hobbies.

Warnings: Oral sex (giving and receiving), deep throating, fingering, vaginal sex, manhandling, rough sex, ruined orgasm, creampie

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

You hated how much you’d dreamt of him texting you again. It felt pathetic, dreaming of a text. At least in your other dreams about him you’d suddenly find yourself in the middle of a club, dancing, his hands hot on your body, stirring you up even though in reality you were very much alone under your covers. But just a text would have you waking up with an uneasy churn in your stomach.

Just like the one you have now, but that second of wondering if it was actually happening is overtaken by the excitement that yes, it was. You even do a double take, thinking you might have imagined what was on the notification that had popped up, brightening your screen and presenting you with that little “👹👑” that had last left you giddy two months ago.

Then, you open your phone and actually read the message.

You free right now?

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his usual lack of formality. No hey, no how are you, no long time no see, just asking if you were free. It annoyed you even further that he couldn’t throw a little sugar on his first contact after months. You roll your eyes again as you begin typing your response, trying to stomp down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach despite him being straight to the point as always.

I thought you had to keep clean for 6 months?

When he’d told you that you took it as him saying that, at best, you two wouldn’t see each other until after his next fight, after all the random drug tests were out of the way and he was able to party with you like before. It was either that or what you’d come to accept was the far more likely scenario, which was him forgetting about you in that time, having found a new woman to party with the exact same way he’d found you. Here he was though, 4 months out from his next fight and texting you. Responding within a minute as well, to your shock as your phone lights up again just seconds after you’d locked it.

are you coming not?

You imagine the annoyed sigh that had preceded his message and smile as another one comes immediately. This time, it’s an address.

As you look it up you’re surprised to find it’s not some club, it’s a neighbourhood. A nice one. An area filled with giant gated houses, spanish style architecture with just a splash of McMansion flair, and uncomfortably uniform topiaries. Maybe it was a house party. Maybe it was a party at his house.

Another message comes through.

im free after 2

You’re more confused than before. 2? In the afternoon? You can’t even wrap your head around what kind of pre-gaming Sukuna had in mind to be meeting up so early, but you weren’t exactly going to say no. You never did when it came to him, especially not when you’d gone without as long as you’d gone with.

see you then

When you step out of your Uber you find that the house is just as big as you’d expected. He’d spent enough on your nights out for you to know by now that he had money to burn, but as you make your way up to the door in your heels you can’t help but think about how your own place could fit in the driveway alone.

Once you get to the front door you take a peek through the large accent windows on either side, seeing how spacious the house was just from the little view you could get. Then you ring the doorbell, tucking your small clutch under your arm to tug your dress down your legs a little as you wait for an answer.

The door opens and you’re unsurprised that the person answering is Uraume, though they do seem very surprised to see you.

“Why are you here?”

You’d learned not to take their brusqueness personally during the encounters you’d had with them since the first one. You’d figured that shared trait was why they got along with Sukuna so well.

“Sukuna said to come over after 2.”

Their eyes narrow. “And he asked you to come here?”

Heavy steps approach from the large, brightly lit hall just visible from where you were waiting at the door. Uraume stops, looking back as Sukuna appears. You’re surprised to see him out of his usual clubbing attire, no slacks, no expensive leather shoes, no button up straining over his musculature, not even a flashy chain around his neck or watch somehow large enough to be ostentatious on even his frame. Instead he’s in tight boxer briefs and nothing else, with a towel over his shoulder to catch the drips coming off of his wet hair.

“What’s the problem, Uraume?”

“I didn’t know you were expecting someone.” Any trace of shock or confusion that had been on Uraume’s face isn’t present in their voice as they speak to him, but apparently Sukuna senses it nonetheless.

“Do I need to tell you about every single person I bring into my own home?”

“Of course not.” Uraume steps back and opens the door wider, giving you space to enter. They close the door behind you and turn to Sukuna, giving a deep nod that borders on bowing before leaving towards what you presumed was the kitchen due to the distant sound of an extractor fan.

“Thank you, Uraume.” There’s annoyance there, but it’s a thanks nonetheless.

Sukuna looks you up and down, and somehow his expressionless appraisal is more intimidating despite having dealt with it several times before. You don’t want to hear it, not when you were still trying to figure out what exactly was going on tonight.

He can’t be stopped though, “I can always count on you to get all dressed up for me.”

Then, he’s tilting his head towards the hallway he’d previously emerged from, gesturing for you to follow as he walks off before you can respond, forcing you to catch up with his long stride in your heels. As you walk just behind him you glance into the rooms as you pass, finding them either blindingly bright due to the floor to ceiling windows, or incredibly dark with only the sunlight from the skylights above the hall illuminating them.

You’re half expecting him to take you to some room with a built in bar and all his entourage pre-gaming. Or pre- pre- gaming at this hour, maybe, but when you finish the walk through his halls and reach your destination you find that it’s just his bedroom. To your surprise, this room falls into the category of “blindingly bright” and the high ceilings and cold tile floors would leave it feeling sterile if it weren’t for the things filling it. Dark wood furniture, warm toned bedding, and monstrous looking masks above his bed not dissimilar to the little emoji you had in your phone representing him.

As he disappears into his walk-in closet for a moment you think you know what he’s getting at now, a party before the party, and you’re a little embarrassed at how your body is already responding to the thought of it.

Then… you’re just confused again as he re-emerges fully dressed in grey sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt - attire very much the opposite of what you were in. He says nothing, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you expectantly.

You swallow thickly, looking at him, “Well…”

Something about standing in front of him while he just stares silently has you suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting dropped off at a rich man’s house in the middle of the day, in tight clothes and makeup meant for dim lighting no less. On your nights out you could fool yourself into thinking you were on equal footing - or at least that there wasn’t such a gulf between the two of you as you blended seamlessly into his entourage. Here though, with just the two of you and no distractions, you feel very small in his big, big house. You feel small in front of him.

“Well?” He parrots you, undoubtedly taunting you with that glint in his eye. Your annoyance at that tone and at how it makes your pussy respond pushes you to finally form your confusion into words.

“So what are we doing then?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid, like he hasn’t been vague as hell like he always was, expecting you to be able to read his moves as he makes them. “Hanging out.”

“Hanging out?”

He raises his brows and tilts his head like it’s obvious, like he shouldn’t have to repeat himself.

“Just me… and you… and Uraume?”

A dismissive hand waves in the air, “Uraume is just finishing my meal prep, then they’re leaving.”

“Are we going out tonight?”

“I’ve got training at 5 tomorrow, and when I’m clean I’m clean.”

You cross your arms, scoffing at your inability to get an actual answer out of the man and getting a little sick of it. When your little display of petulance draws a chuckle from him you click your heel against the tiled floor, hoping it would distract from whatever tell you might have that his laugh alone was already turning you to putty in his hands.

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

But… you don’t really feel like drinking if he isn’t. So you slip off your heels, deciding that you weren’t going to be uncomfortable in them at least, toss your small clutch onto his bed, and sit down next to him.

“Meal prep, training at the crack of dawn, not even one little drink… you’re really serious about this whole fighting thing, I guess.”

He looks irritated for a moment, but amused nonetheless. “I have been the reigning champion for 6 years, you know.”

You lean back onto your elbows, crossing your legs and looking up at him, trying your best not to give away that you already knew that.

“And 3 years before that at my last organisation.”

You knew that too, and that he’d been banned from there for fighting dirty. You knew a lot more about him since you’d last seen him, having watched what clips of his fights you could find. He was impressive, worthy of being as cocky as he was, worthy of all the starry eyed reactions he’d get on your nights out.

“That’s cool.” His brow raises and you go on, feeling the need to assure him that you weren’t being sarcastic with him for once, “it’s nice to have something you’re passionate about.”

His expression goes blank, and you’re beginning to realise when he’s indifferent and when he’s trying to look indifferent - that subtle distinction between him peering into you and looking through you.

“What are you passionate about?” You think he might be genuinely interested. “Other than getting fucked up.” You think he’s pretending he isn’t.

“Um…” you have a brief moment of suddenly remembering nothing you’ve ever done or liked just because you’ve been asked, and the smallest twitch of a smile forms at the corners of his lips before he seems to decide to throw you a bone, just this once.

“What are your hobbies?”

Your mind is still drawing a blank, but you’re more able to continue, feeling like talking about what you like feels a little easier than explaining something you were as passionate about as 6 Year Reigning Champion Ryomen ‘The King’ Sukuna was about fighting. “I like reading, playing video games… uh…”

It’s weird having a conversation with him. Not that you hadn’t before, but they were always dripping with innuendo, banter dipped in tension and implication acting to fill the gaps between drinks and drugs and fucking. Conversations containing questions like ’What do you do for work?’ followed up with ‘you don’t have some sugar daddy waiting for you to come pay him a visit tonight, right?’

Now there’s another kind of tension here, one that Sukuna cuts with his usual playful bite, “So you’re a bookworm and a nerd?”

Sitting back up, you open your mouth, ready to lash an equally sharp remark back to him, but he’s stopping you in your tracks with his next words.

“Cute.”

He’s said it before, several times, but it always had that curt tone in it, clearly broadcasting that it was meant as his own special word for you in lieu of calling you a brat. Because that’s always when you’d earned the name, when you were being a brat. This time you don’t feel like there’s anything behind it, and it might just be exactly what it was: Sukuna thinking that you’re cute.

Even considering that that might be the case makes a little bit of warmth blossom in your chest, then lower down when one corner of his mouth lifts just so and it looks like he knows exactly what it’s done to you. That’s his only tell, as he moves on quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his heavy hand on your hip.

“What kind of games?”

Now the blood that had rushed downward makes its way to your face as you shrug, “I dunno…”

“You don’t know what games you play?” His brows raise in a way that telegraphs he’s warning you not to lie to him, the thought of what the punishment might be for such a trespass has your mind racing.

You feel an odd pang of guilt in your chest though, for thinking of what he could do to your body when he seemed to be looking for an actual conversation, but then you’re second guessing even that. So you decide to just take it as what it is, a question, and answer it.

“I like Animal Crossing.”

“The children’s game?”

The bite is back as you roll your eyes at him, “It’s not just for kids.”

He smiles and squeezes lightly at your hip, then pulls you close, so your sides are pressed together and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. It makes you pause, makes you have to tell yourself not to be obvious in the way you cross your legs a little tighter. He doesn’t miss a thing, though.

“Well what’s this Animal Crossing about, then?”

“You’re a villager-“

“Like a peasant?”

“No, like… a little guy. Or girl, or whatever, and you move onto an island with a bunch of animals that live there too.”

His smile widens as his brows raise higher, “And that’s not just a children’s game?”

“It’s not just that, you basically build up a little town, planting trees, building things, decorating the place.” You pause, waiting for another remark from Sukuna, but find he’s just listening, waiting for you to continue. So you do, “You can even do things like fishing or catching bugs, it’s-“

He dips his head down and his lips brush yours, pressing for just a moment before he’s pulling back and speaking low. His nose is still pressed to yours, and hearing his voice at a near-whisper for the first time has your panties wetter than ever. “It sounds surprisingly peaceful.”

“I like a little peace and quiet sometimes.”

“Not when you’re out with me.”

You look into his eyes, and notice what an interesting shade they are, warm and deep and as intense as he was. It makes you realise that you’d never seen them without being overtaken by dilated pupils.

“Well… that’s you.”

The small ’Hm’ he lets out is dipped in something you can’t quite decipher yet, but it doesn’t really matter as his tongue parts your lips, giving you the kiss you’d come to crave. He lays you back, arm still underneath you, and you wrap your arms around him as he scoots you further up his bed bit by bit until your head is resting just below his pillows.

Whether the conversation before was genuine or simply pretence doesn’t matter now as he slips his muscled thigh between your legs, giving you an encouraging hum when you grind on it. Your hands are quick to find their way into his hair, then work their way down his back and up his sides. He feels so familiar yet different as the resumed training has made his body harder than before. When your hands finally make their way down to where his clothed cock rests heavy against your hip, you find a wet patch at the tip to match the one you were undoubtedly leaving on his thigh. His tongue is strong against yours, lips demanding as they lead until you’re moaning into his mouth, ready for him to do more than have you humping at his leg.

Sensing that, he pulls back, moving to lay beside you, hand on your jaw keeping you in place so he can look down at you as he speaks.

“Still scared to suck my cock?”

Here it finally was, that moment when he brings it up when you’re not too worn out to do something about that unstoppable smugness. You push him onto his back. Or, rather, you try to, finding him an unmovable object as your strength means nothing to him. He chuckles, and slides off of the bed to stand next to it.

“Here,” he slides his hands under your arms, pulling you until you’re lying on your stomach, elbows perched on the edge of the bed and peering up at him standing over you, “let me help you out.”

He hooks his thumb in the waistband of both his sweatpants and underwear, tugging them down enough to have his cock out and hanging, too heavy to stand fully on its own despite its hardness. He pumps it a few times, squeezing up slowly until a new bead of precum forms at the tip, and when you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out to catch it as it drips down, he gives you that wicked smile you know so well.

“You’ll have to get it nice and wet if you expect it to fit in your throat.”

“Obviously.” That was the closest he’d get right now to an admission of you being intimidated by his size, he already wasn’t letting you forget those words that first night you’d met.

He’s right though, so you lean forward and swirl your tongue around the thick head, wrapping your lips around for just a moment before shifting to latch onto the side of his shaft. He holds it steady by the base, watching you intently as you suck and kiss your way down, letting the spit gathered in your mouth cover it as you go, and giving him the smallest hint of what he wanted. As you lick your way back up to the tip you look up at him and he bares his teeth, eyes sparkling as you finally take it in your mouth again and slowly sink down.

Just as the head hits your throat, you pull back, eyes still on his, before going back down slowly. You bob your head up and down like this a few times, coating his cock more and more until spit is dripping down your chin and into the floor below.

Then, he pulls his cock away from your mouth and flips you flat onto your back, this time with your head hanging over the edge. You open wide, tongue out, and grab onto his hips as he wipes the head of his cock across your lips before pushing in. He pauses for a second when he’s about to enter your throat, releasing his grip on his cock now that he’s firmly anchored inside of your mouth, and pulls his shirt up and over his head, throwing it onto the ground behind him.

You wonder why he’d even put it on in the first place, then you wonder nothing at all as he starts pushing his way into your throat and you have no choice but to put your full focus on the challenge before you. He only goes so far before he’s pulling back until you’re tightening your lips over the head of his cock in a kind of kiss - catching your breath for just a moment before he’s parting them to push his way back in. He repeats this motion, pushing in a bit further each time, until he’s pressing his way all the way in until your nose is nuzzled into his heavy balls.

He stays there, low grown bubbling out from his throat, and your own throat starts to clench around the length inside of it. It’s not long before you’re squeezing at his hips and bringing your knees up. He pulls out then, and you only have a second to sputter and cough before he’s bending down and kissing you hard, tongue feeling much less invasive now that he’s had his monster of a cock in there.

When his lips part from yours, the smile he gives you makes your pussy flutter, “See, I knew you could take it.”

It feels like a compliment as much as it feels like a warning.

Then, he’s standing up, and sliding his cock right back into your mouth and down your throat in one quick thrust. As he fucks into your mouth you find that your throat, and lungs are indeed more accommodating than you had thought. The throbbing soreness of having something so thick so deep isn’t so bad, and you time your breaths perfectly before your air is cut off briefly from the intrusion. Eventually he stays deeper and deeper each time he pulls back until he’s barely leaving your throat before he’s filling it again.

His thrusts are slow and relaxed while he leans down and runs his hands over your body. He gropes at your tits, squeezes at your stomach, then settles a hand over your pussy. He presses firmly, moving his hand side to side as he enjoys the wetness already there.

“Tell me, are you this wet just from a few kisses, or from finally getting a taste of my cock?”

You wait for him to pull back and let you speak, or sputter, or even moan as he continues palming at you pussy. Instead he hooks a thumb into your panties, pulling them to the side and sliding two fingers into you while thrusting harder into your throat.

“Got nothing to say for yourself?”

In lieu of an opportunity to speak, you swallow around his girth, tightening your throat enough to have him hissing through clenched teeth. A laugh follows that has your pussy clenching, and the sudden knowledge that even that had your body needy for him pushes the sound from a chuckle to a pleased growl.

“That’s fine, just let this do the talking.”

He fucks his fingers into you fast, stirring you up so well you lose your focus on breathing when you get the rare opportunity. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, eyes rolling back, grip on Sukuna’s hips loosening, until he suddenly pulls back and returns to those much more shallow thrusts where he’s only barely entering your throat.

You think it’s a merciful break, until you realise he’s pulling his fingers out of you and repositioning himself to hunch down over you on the bed. He slides his arms under your thighs, before hooking his hand back in your panties and settling his face between your legs, cock back to bullying it’s way as deep as it can go in your throat while still letting him keep his mouth on you.

His tongue is big, lathing over your pussy in long firm strokes, dipping inside you just to feel you clench before he pulls it back out and presses the flat of it over your bundle of nerves. When he wraps his lips around it he sucks hard, pulling back with a wet pop and leaving you yelping around his length as the intensity borders on painful. Then, just as quickly as he’d done it, he’s rubbing it better with his tongue, warm and soft and working you towards your orgasm.

He keeps your panties firmly out of the way with his index, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you to give you something to clench around as sucks and licks your pussy until it’s drooling for him. You can’t even tell whether the wetness dripping down your ass is from you or his mouth as he growls into it, seemingly driven back to that savage state he’d fucked you in once before just by the taste of you. It’s sending you flying to the edge, whole body tensing, not sure if you’re breathing and not sure if you really need to as he fucks your throat, and the final push comes suddenly as you start clenching around his fingers.

All at once, it’s ripped away from you and you’re tightening on nothing. The cold air is jarring as he sits up, mouth and fingers abandoning your pussy, cock vacating your throat, and you outright scream in frustration at having your orgasm ruined. He pulls you up, tossing you back into your earlier position with your head on his pillows before he’s flipping you on your front and pulling you onto your knees.

“Fuck, I was cumming!”

“Too bad,” he lines himself up with your pussy, “I need to fuck you.”

His words ring loudly in your ears and your head spins as you realise this is the first time the two of you will have fucked completely sober, though you hardly felt sober with the way he’d toyed with your pussy like that.

As he presses in, much more slowly than you were anticipating, he groans and throws his head back, hands rubbing over your ass.

“So tight… no one’s fucked you right since me, hm?”

You don’t intend to answer that. It wasn’t any of his business what you did, and didn’t do, in the time he’d left you hanging.

Sukuna won’t be ignored though, ending his slow push forward by shoving the last few inches of his fat cock into you hard and fast enough for a little skin on skin slap to ring out just as you yelp.

“You haven’t been fucked stupid like that again, have you?”

“N-no.” It’s hard to keep your composure when you’re being split open for the first time in months.

He pulls out to the tip, and you brace yourself for another punishing thrust, but instead he’s back to pressing in slowly. He leans down over you, tracing his tongue up your back as he continues fucking you deep, pausing every so often to kiss and nip at your skin until you’re arching your back, rocking back into him.

“There you go,” he squeezes your hips, picking up the speed just a little, “a pussy like this needs to be fucked often, doesn’t it?”

You nod, moaning as your orgasm is already inching closer thanks to his cock dragging deliciously along your walls.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you around then, it would be a shame to waste it.”

He’s stirring you up so well you can only think to agree. Of course you needed his cock, of course it would be a waste, and how gracious of him to sort you out like this. Like his cock was a favour. Like he hadn’t said just minutes ago that he was the one that needed it. Not wanted it, needed it.

Your head is spinning, stomach clenching as he begins to fuck you like he was making up for wasted time. It’s hard enough that you’re unable to stay upright, slumping forward as your arms give out on you. It doesn’t slow Sukuna down in the least, as he pulls you back into his thrusts quickly, fingers pressing into the very spots your body knew his bruises belonged. He leans up and into you, shoving your body forward enough that you throw a hand up to brace yourself from being pushed into the headboard as he leans his full weight onto you, reaching beneath you to swipe at your clit roughly.

He’s shoving you towards that edge again, making you whine and moan for him as you have no choice but to cum fast and cum hard, something he does right along with you as he’s snapping his hips against yours and filling you with wave after wave of hot cum.

You collapse fully beneath him, pussy still twitching every so often with the aftermath of your orgasm, Sukuna acting as a far too heavy weighted blanket on top of you while he gets his breathing under control after an orgasm that seemed to rip through him as hard as it had you. He seems to finally hear your struggle below as he sits up and pulls out, letting you take full breaths now with his weight off of you.

He tugs his sweatpants back up and lies down on his side next to you, pushing your hair out of your face to make sure you were at least conscious before letting out a small huff of a chuckle.

“I thought you had passed out for a second there.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” The bite isn’t really there as your voice cracks and you lick your lips, mouth dry from how you’d been panting so hard.

Another chuckle and he’s rolling you onto your back and pulling you into him, sliding his fingers into your pussy and smirking as he feels your walls still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He leaves his fingers settled in there, playing idly in your warmth as you lie there under his smug gaze.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, and deciding he looks content in this silence you just let the moment hang. Then, as your heart steadies and your body stops buzzing with the soft afterglow, you find yourself clear headed for the first time since you’d gotten that text from Sukuna earlier this day.

“Fuck!” You push yourself up onto your elbows, trying to reach for where you’d tossed your small clutch on his bed but being stopped by his heavy arm across your body, fingers hooked securely inside of you.

Once you start to shove at his arm he sighs, sliding his fingers out of you to grab the small leather purse and tossing it onto your stomach. He seems entirely uninterested in whatever you were on about as he settles back down on the bed and slides his fingers back inside of you.

“I completely forgot I had actual plans tonight.” You’re annoyed at yourself for just forgetting everything the second you’d gotten one text from Sukuna.

You’re annoyed at yourself even more for admitting in front of him that you’d bailed on these plans without a word the second he came calling, catching the way his fingers stop stirring inside you for just a moment before they’re back to their lazy movements.

He doesn’t seem interested in teasing you for it at least, letting out a contented sigh as you dig your phone out from where it was squeezed into your clutch, taking up all the space in there save for a small slot for your lip gloss. He watches through half-closed eyelids as you type your message of apology to your friend. You don’t bother explaining yourself, knowing they’d probably text you something back about getting your back blown out and you didn’t need his head getting bigger about any of this. When he sees your messages he locks onto his name in your phone again before you lock it and start to put it back in your bag.

“Put my name in your phone.”

“What?” You look up at him, surprised he still cared about that. He doesn’t look mad, or annoyed even, not like he had the first time he’d seen it. Whatever is in his expression isn’t fully clear to you, though it doesn’t feel entirely unlike when you’ve disappointed a parent.

“Put my name in your phone. Properly.”

You watch him carefully as you pull your phone from where it was half-stuffed in your bag, and do just that. Looking down at the screen to type out ‘Ryomen Sukuna’.

“There.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, rubbing your wetness and his lingering cum through your folds, then patting your pussy lightly. Then, he pats it again, this time firmly enough to make you jump. “Good girl.”

CHAPTER 5

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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emmyrosee · 1 year

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there's something about atsumu being all pouty and sulky that makes him more adorable. (please i love him so much) i just watched a TikTok video of a married couple and this ask is based on this. so what if after an argument, you being atsumu's wife doesn't cook enough food for three (three bcs u have a daughter who has her uncle samu's appetite. and yes, bcs im a sucker for dad atsumu au) and just told him to cook for himself or order takeout or something bcs u didn't think that he'll eat at home. please 🥺 i just wanna see his reaction 👀

*the argument is about him not wanting to go home (poor boy says he needs to practice more) after you text and call him a hundred times bcs it's past practice time. so the next evening, you didn't cook food that'll be enough for the three of you.

NO WAIT PAUSE IM OBSESSED WITH THIS-

also im so glad you’re a sucker for the dad/uncle au bc same HA-

I know damn well in that pretty head of Atsumu’s that he does, try his hardest to be home for dinner. Always one to be accounted for, always there beside you, mowing down on the food you’d either spent the entire day cooking, or grabbing after your errands.

But for the past few nights, he just. Hasn’t.

He’s been with the boys, or staying overtime at practice, or hanging out with Osamu because he could always use a set of hands, and for some reason, rather than just telling you this, he doesn’t. He leaves you to figure it out for yourself.

It leads to a pretty nasty spat, thankfully one Hisako was asleep for, about you just wanting a text so you know that you don’t have to look forward to enjoying dinner with him (okay. A little cruel, but he had it coming!) or setting an extra plate. It made him snarl out how ‘he’s a grown man’ and ‘he can make his own dinner plans’ and ‘take care of his damn self without you,’ and you felt your heart sink to the base of your chest.

He sighs softly, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Then take care of yourself,” you snap, turning on your heel to get ready for bed. Even though there’s some half choked apologies that fall from both of your lips, you make the conscious decision to stop trying so hard.

If he wasn’t going to appreciate the work you go out of your way to do for him to enjoy a hot meal, then why put it forward? No need to shell out the extra effort when he’s not going to do his own part.

Especially tonight, as your table sets and vegetables stop cooking, your damn husband still isn’t home.

Whatever. Asshole.

Surely, it’s fine. It seems fine. Hisako inhales the food with extreme excitement, you pick at your own while she recounts the events of her day. Gotta hand it to her, she’s a damn entertaining kid, able to distracted you from the hurt of Atsumu potentially taking your words to heart and indeed, taking care of himself.

She prompts the end of her dinner with an enthusiastic kiss to your cheek- a trait she learned from her father- before toddling into the living room to play with her toys. You smile softly at the sight, bittersweet as you move to start the dishes, trying to get through them as a quick as possible before Atsumu comes home and sees the dinner not made for him.

This is another instance, however, that you’re having the piss taken out of you, and Atsumu comes home in the middle of your chores. You cringe softly as the front door opens, he sighs dramatically, and you head the happiness in his voice when he chirps a quick “where’re my girls!”

You whimper in the back of your throat and plaster a smile, still trying to hide the hurt in your features.

“Hey my love,” Atsumu says, voice strained from sighing happily, before laxing out to kiss you. “Where’s the boss of us?”

You smile and pucker your lips for a brief, almost uninterested kiss, and you watch as his body language tenses. “She’s in the living room playing with her toys. I was going to give her a bath once I finished the dishes.”

“I can do that, dollface,” he chuckles. “If you want to relax, or get started on her bath you can.” He happily hooks his head over your shoulder and nuzzles into you softly. “I gotta eat first anyways, so I can take care of the dishes.”

You tense up as he lifts his head with a happy inhale, “smells great in here. What did you make?”

In confusion, you give him a look over your shoulder. “I… made curry in the pressure cooker, and some rice and fried some eggs for us.” He groans happily and quickly dashes to the fridge to open and search for the extras, only for his face to fall once he turns up empty handed.

“Did… you both polish it off?”

“I only made enough for two, and with your daughter having an appetite like her uncle I almost didn’t have enough-“

“But…”

“What?”

“You… you didn’t cook enough for me?”

You scoff and continue to scrub the plates, “since you clearly had no intentions of updating me on what you’d be doing tonight, I figured I had no use in cooking more than Hisako and I could eat. Leftovers go to waste in this house anyways.”

He pauses, and you hear his socked feet padding around the tiled floors, trying to piece together his thoughts and approach this. You continue to wash the dishes, but the signals in your brain cross as two long arms wrap around your waist, a head burrowing into the curve of your neck.

“‘Tsumu-“

“I meant to text you,” he murmurs, curling up as close to you as he can. “I swear. Tonight, I wanted to come home and eat dinner with you, and watch a movie with ‘Sako, but I guess I just forgot to when Bokuto wanted to practice a little bit more…” one of the arms wrapped around your waist moves up to gently cup your jawline, angling your head to look at the golden eyes curved in distress. “But as soon as I realized I came right home, I didn’t even think of it. Please, don’t be mad at me… it was an accident this time, I swear.”

You sigh and lean over to nudge your nose with his, “I’m not mad at you, baby. You just… you hurt my feelings last night; you can’t tell me you don’t appreciate the work I do, then come home and pout about the work I didn’t do. That’s rude, it’s shitty of you.”

“I know,” he says softly, lowering his eyes. In thought for a moment, he then rises his gaze back up to you with a hopeful smile, “can I have a kiss at least?”

You snicker and roll your eyes, “you may have one kiss, and if you play your cards right, I’ll doctor up some instant noodles for you.”

He beams happily up at you and leans up to steal a kiss, the hand on your cheek stroking the warm skin lovingly, “I like the sound of that.”

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xas24 · 8 months

Note

more santiago and pedri pleasee? 🥹

maybe a movie night or a bday party or something ?

thanksss🫶🏼

movie nights ~ pedri

summary: santiago’s first movie night with his two favourite people.

more to this mini series can be found on my masterlist :))

when santiago suggested the idea of a movie night with pedri, y/n was skeptical. she knew how busy her boyfriends schedule was and she didn’t want to bother him. hell, even her own schedule was hectic, with classes, and extra classes on top of that, and going to the gym.

sometimes she couldn’t even work out a time where even her and pedri were free for a little date night. however, it just so happened that her little brother had worked out some time for her.

she didn’t even know how smart this little boy was until she was explaining her whole day to him and he was practically pulling free time out of nowhere. no matter what excuse she threw at him, he shook his head and found a way, which honestly was quite surprising for a kid who spent most of his day either kicking a ball around or playing on his ipad.

in the end, y/n reluctantly found that she couldn’t say no to his big eyes and adorable, hopeful smile. he held the remote to the tv in his hand, already comfy in his sweatpants and hoodie, so she agreed and called pedri over.

santiago was so happy. pedri had stayed over lots of times before, but majority of those times had been in his sisters bedroom doing whatever the hell grown-ups did. he was still relatively new to their relationship, albeit very comfortable with it, he felt a different sort of connection with pedri.

he was like an older brother to him and he wanted to spend as much time with him as he could.

santiago opened up the movie he’d been wanting to watch as he waited. he had also grabbed the biggest blanket in the house and set it down on the couch, already comfortably sitting between it.

it wasn’t long till pedri got there, and the little boy greeted him with the biggest hug and most excited smile ever. pedri couldn’t hold back his own smile due to how contagious the younger ones was.

overtime, pedri had come to realise the little soft spot he had for santiago.

he thought of him as a younger brother, even though he had only known him for a few months so far. he loved his passion for football, just like him, how excited he got at any opportunity to play or talk about or watch football. he also loved the immense respect he held for his family. being the youngest in the family also, pedri adored how well-mannered and respectful the little boy was.

“pedri!!! im so excited you came!” santiago pulled away from the hug and looked up at him with a grin.

“how could i say no to you, hm?” pedri pinched his cheek. he took his shoes off and allowed santiago to pull him into the living room where the lights had been dimmed and the couch had been fluffled to the brim with pillows and one large blanket.

“wow, you did all this, santi?”

the boy gave a proud grin in return and jumped down in the middle of the couch. he patted the space next to him and pedri happily took the seat.

his arm landed around the back of the couch whilst santiago grabbed the remote. instantly, pedris eyebrows slightly furrowed at the empty seat next to santi, starting to wonder where his girlfriend was.

“dónde está y/n?” (where is y/n?)

“aquí.” (here.) y/n walked into the living room with some snacks in her hand and a big bowl of popcorn in the other. she shot pedri a warm smile, one which he immediately reciprocated at the sight of her.

she placed the stuff down on the coffee table infront of them before leaning forward to plant a kiss on pedris lips. the older boy hummed into the peck, lips chasing hers as soon as she pulled away. y/n gave him a little look as if to say later, before turning to santi and running a hand over his hair.

“santi, you picked the movie?”

he nodded in response.

“you didn’t bring the drinks, did you?”

he shook his head, looking back up at his big sister with an innocent pout on his lips. “lo siento, y/n. i forgot.”

y/n ruffled his hair playfully, “it’s okay. i’ll bring them. you start the movie.”

santiago only faced forward again. he didn’t want to start it yet and therefore waited until his sister was back with the drinks and comfortably settled in next to him, before pressing play.

•••

it was about half an hour into the movie and pedri couldn’t help the hand that started wandering towards his girlfriend over the back of the couch.

she was sat so close yet so far, santiago being between the two, and his hands just itched to touch any part of her warm skin. he practically couldn’t sit still.

his fingers reached her shoulder and he started playing with the strap of her top. it was an unconscious act, something he didn’t pay any mind to as his fingers fiddled with the string. y/n couldn’t help the hot blush that started flooding her cheeks at his little action.

normally she wouldn’t mind when he started toying with any part of her clothes or hair, but the fact that, even whilst her little brother was sat between them, he still had to be touching some part of her, made her heart flutter.

y/n didn’t stop her hand when it reached up to his hand on her shoulder, before she could even think about it. her index finger made contact with his and she slowly let her fingers intertwine with his own.

pedri let her. both their eyes stayed focused on the tv infront of them, yet their hands rested interlocked on y/n’s shoulder, pedri brushing his thumb in little circles over her skin. santiago had also cuddled up to pedri, loving the warmth that surrounded him between two of his favourite people.

pedri had smiled at him, looking down at him with such adoration in his eyes as his other hand rested on his little body.

santi couldn’t deny he was loving every second of this; the atmosphere, the warmth, the love. he didn’t want it to end. he’d finally gotten his way and he knew he would definetely be having many more movie nights in the future.

#pedri x reader #barça #imagine #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri

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alwritey-aphrodite · 4 months

Note

HI IM AUDITIONING FOR THE HOLIDAY ROLE OF OPENING PRESENTS WITH JAMIE TARTT PLEASE

2023 Holiday Blurbs

Every year, you and Jamie both come up with a maximum amount of presents to get each other, and every year, neither of you follow those guidelines. You just can’t help yourself, always feeling a need to spoil Jamie and physically unable to resist buying something you know he’ll love. Jamie’s the same exact way, and you’re not sure why you both pretend to agree not to spoil each other when you always turn around and do the opposite, but it’s practically a tradition at this point.

To no one’s surprise, the space around the tree is absolutely covered in presents come Christmas morning, and you can’t help but to laugh at the slightly ridiculous sight.

“Definitely went a little overboard,” Jamie says from the foot of the stairs, looking just a little bit sheepish.

“We’ll have to tone it down for next year,” you respond with a grin, knowing that if anything, you’ll only go even more overboard next year.

Despite the urge to rush to the tree and tear into the wrapping, you and Jamie head first to the kitchen, making coffee even though you’re both already close to bouncing off the walls with excitement. Every year, it gets harder and harder not to fall asleep halfway through dinner, so even though you’re energized now, the coffee is an essential part of the morning.

“Mum and Simon are on their way over, but I already warned them that you’re impatient and can’t wait to open your gifts,” Jamie says as you make your way back to the tree, coffee mugs in hand, as if he isn’t the one who’d sit and stare at the unopened gifts like a desperate child. Either way, it’s nice to get a moment with just the two of you in between all the holiday chaos, a moment to share your love with each other through your inability to not spoil each other.

The two of you take your seats in front of the tree, looking like eager children instead of respectable adults, but there’s no one to tell you no. You take turns handing each other gifts, getting to decide which one they open and when. It’s amazing to see just how much Jamie pays attention, how he can remember even the little things you point out or mention, with silly little gifts you’d said you liked months ago or a book you’ve wanted to read for forever but haven’t been able to find.

Jamie, the man who could buy whatever he wants whenever he wants, is surprisingly easy to shop for, even when you know he’d love anything you give him for the simple fact that it’s from you. Every time he opens a gift, he reacts like it’s the best thing he’s ever gotten, and you really do believe him, believe that he’s just over the moon that you think of him and know him well enough to buy something for him.

When you reach the end of the pile of gifts, and you both have one gift left, you decide to open them together, too overjoyed to notice how similar the packages look. Opening yours, there’s a simple chain with a letter j charm, and before you can really admire it, you’re bursting with laughter because you’d gotten Jamie that same exact thing. Once he holds up the chain with your first initial, he joins in with your laughter, the two of you barely settling enough to help each other with the clasps.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic

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obsessedwithpedritoofc · 3 months

Text

Mʏ Oɴʟʏ Rᴇᴀsᴏɴ (Fʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ Mᴏʀᴀʟᴇs)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Frankie Morales × Transmasc Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 7,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Both sent to the same prison, with different reasons and different problems to deal with. At least most of them, until one brought them together.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: au, angst, violence, mentions of blood, shots being fired, mentions of death, mentions of killing, allusion to drugs, mentions of anger problems, mentions of scars, fluff, not wanting to have sex, frankies a sweetheart ofc, similarities with the series "time", actual physical descriptions of reader (but not detailed), no use of Y/N (reader is referred to as Lost). (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: hellooo as i suppose you already know, i LOVED writing this shit. frankie is my favorite pedro character and will always be and whenever i write something for him i get really excited. anyway so, this is based on the series "time", which is why it has some similarities to it but i mainly got inspiration from my own imagination :D whatever, im starting to bore myself lol. enjoy <3

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

That was it. You almost had it. You just had to pull the trigger...

"Come on, get up!", there was a firm, insistent knock at the door of your cell. You looked at the ceiling, sighed and reluctantly got up.

Of all the bad days you had —and you had many bad days—, that was the worst day you could have been transferred. Your legs were stiff, your knuckles were broken and bloodied, and the scar in your stomach was making your insides hurt more than usual, though maybe that was because of the hunger. But well, it's not like you could even choose when to be transferred or where. That fight hadn't been your fault.

"Move, asshole", you looked up at him. He grabbed the chicken sandwich from your tray.

"Aren't you a bit too small to be a boy?", he laughed. Some of the ones behind him did, too.

"Give me my fucking sandwich back and move out of the way", you tried to stand your ground, not look weak, give them a warning.

"Oh, lookit that! Little girl's gotten all mad—".

You didn't give him the chance to finish the sentence before you smashed your tray right on his face, making him fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You got on his lap and started hitting your fist on his nose, his mouth, his eyes, everything you could hit. Until the alarm went off and you were surrounded and grabbed by a bunch of guards that took you to an isolation cell.

Next day, you were being transferred to a prison thousands of kilometers away from him. You didn't even know where they were going to take you. But you didn't care either. At this point, you didn't really care about anything.

When you arrived to your new home it was snowing and you were freezing. As you were approaching, the driver gave you a brief explanation of how weather and life were like in that prison. You didn't see yourself living in a place where it was always cold and raining —or snowing, that day specifically—, let alone for more than twenty years and between all those freaks.

Your time in that last prison had been cut short barely a month after you got in. You rejected every chance you were given to call your family or whoever close to you, and you didn't receive a single visit. Not like you had anyone close to you either. The only one that had once been was now gone.

You spent your first day in prison like it had been your forever home. The next day, though, everyone knew who you were and started looking at you as if you were their next prey. Or more as if they knew why you were there. Luckily for you, no one approached more than necessary. And luckily for you, you didn't really have to approach anyone at all, since you didn't even have a cellmate.

A week in, though, a group of inmates paid you a visit while you were reading in your cell. One of them looked outside to make sure there was no one dangerously nearby, then closed the door. The man at the front stood still, looking at you and scanning the room. Then, he sat next to you on the bed. You immediately sat up by instinct and scanned them all as well. There was three of them —four counting the on sitting next to you. You really didn't have much of a chance if you wanted to suddenly run away, but you could knock out their boss and one of them if you were fast enough.

"I know who you are", said the one on your side.

"Before you continue, you should know the last person who told me I was small didn't end very well", you spoke fast, looking at him in the eyes with an expressionless demeanor, showing you weren't weak and that you were going to stand your ground.

"Oh, I know that, too", he smiled. "That's why you were transferred here, right?".

You sighed. The situation was starting to be a bit too cliché and boring for your liking.

"What do you want?", you didn't take your eyes off of his.

"Nothing", he raised his eyebrows. "Yet".

Of course, you thought, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"So?", you crossed your arms. The man beside you stayed silent for a while.

"Do people around here know what you really are?".

Your demeanor immediately changed, shifting from an expressionless one to a scared one. You knew what he was talking about.

But how the hell did he know?

"Who the fuck are you?", you found yourself suddenly lacking of oxygen. He just smiled.

"I'll come to you when I need a favor", he got up and walked to the door, then knocked. The man behind it opened it. "In the meantime, try not to get in much trouble".

And just like he had walked in, he also walked out. You gasped for air the very second you were left alone.

Great, one week in that prison and you had somehow already fucked up.

"Hey", another man was standing by the door now. He wasn't one of the other guy's men. "You good?", he looked around the room as if he was searching for something.

"Uh... Yeah", you frowned. "Why?".

"Those assholes are always up to somethin', wouldn't be a surprise if they were tryna get you in", he put his hands in his pockets and leaned his side on the doorframe.

"Do you want something?", you sounded a bit annoyed.

"No. I, uh, was jus' checkin' you weren't hurt".

"Well, I'm not. Thanks", you forced a brief smile. "You can leave now".

"Right", he pulled away from the door. "Sorry for botherin' ya".

When he was out of sight, you breathed again.

You took some time to think. Maybe if you did what the guy had told you to, you'd be out of trouble. By the moment, the best for you was to stay out of trouble. He had said not to, perhaps so that cops around wouldn't keep much of an eye on you in case he was going to ask you for a favor —you'd be out of suspicion.

You sighed. You knew you were fucked. But maybe you could keep yourself from making it worse.

"Why?", you held up the gun. "Why did you do it?", tears were streaming down your face.

"I had no choice".

"Why did you do this to me?!", you took a step back.

"I didn't know I'd get y—".

"Get the fuck away from me!!!".

And then you shot.

You sat at the back of the dining room. You were lucky to go down early so you could avoid the masses of inmates that fought over the last piece of bread. Unfortunately, the assholes were something you couldn't avoid. Especially the ones that came to you that morning.

"Well, hello", he sat beside you once again, followed by his men.

"What?", your tone was stern, though your face gave away your concern of what he might say. He didn't say anything at first and grabbed the bread from your tray. "That's mine", you spat.

"Not anymore", he looked into you eyes with as much sternness as your tone was holding at first. "I need you to do something for me", he smiled.

Shit, was your only thought.

"What?".

"But I need to know I can trust you before I give you a task".

"No. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll decide if I do it—".

"I think you don't understand how this works", he moved closer. "I tell you to do something, and you just do it. You don't do it, I tell everyone about you. You fuck it up, I tell everyone about you. You tell the cops, I tell everyone about you", he stared into your eyes. "Are we clear?".

You didn't say anything. You didn't want to make him think you were one to submit easily, but you didn't have any other choice either. Luckily for you, he wasn't looking to humiliate you and just let it be.

"A friend of mine's gonna leave some stuff by your cell one of these days", he pulled slightly away. "I need you to hide it and save it until I come get it".

You put on your usual expressionless demeanor.

"Okay", was your answer. He smiled.

"That's more like it", he patted your shoulder and got up. "Good thing we're on the same page".

And like that, he just walked away again.

You looked around, searching for anyone that might have seen you. Everyone else seemed to be minding their own business, except for the man that had gone check on you the first time that group of inmates had gone talk to you. He was staring at you with a knowing look from a couple tables away. You saw him well this time: he was wearing a cap and his moustache barely hid half of his upper lip. He got up with his tray before you could scan him any longer, then walked up to you and sat by your table.

"What did he say this time?", he asked.

"Hello to you, too", you rolled your eyes and went back to eating. "Why do you care so much anyway?".

"Because the last people I saw him approach to didn't end well".

"Well, define not well", you said with your mouth full.

"Beaten up by cops. By himself. Ended in the hospital", he paused to think. "Dead".

You stopped chewing for a moment, then continued.

"And why me?", you swallowed. "There's a lot of people in here, at least one of them all's gotta be in some shit with those guys".

" 'Course they do, but most of 'em want the reward he gives 'em", he took a bite of his own food. "You didn't seem to".

"Yeah, well, I guess he ran outta rewards because he didn't offer me one", you raised your eyebrows while looking down at your plate, having another bite.

"Then why did you accept to do his dirty work?".

"I didn't ac—".

"I saw him gettin' outta here with your bread n' all smiley, you must've said somethin' he liked".

You stopped eating and slammed your hands on the table.

"Look, man. Whatever I do or not is none of your goddamn business, so I suggest you start minding your own shit unless you wanna end beaten up like the last person that fucked around with me", you stared into his eyes, your own set on fire. He threw his hands up.

"A'right", he grabbed his tray and got up. "Sorry for b—".

"Bothering me, yeah, sure, you can go", you shooed him. He knew better than to keep insisting, so he walked away.

You went back to your cell as soon as you were done eating. Damn, you did miss the bread. But to be honest, it wasn't really something you were concerned about. What really worried you at that moment was which kind of stuff was that bastard's friend going to make you hide and what would happen to you in case you were caught in a room inspection.

You hoped nothing too bad.

It was done. You had done it. It was over.

You stood there, looking at the body laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Then you heard police sirens.

"Drop your gun!", they broke the door open. They held their gun up. You held yours on the side of your head.

"Get back!", you screamed.

"Drop your gun and get on the floor!", they kept saying.

You saw no better way out of it. So you shot once again.

A knock on your door woke you up. You hit your forehead with the metal bars under the bunk bed when you jumped, startled. You cursed yourself and rubbed the hurt spot on your forehead before getting up.

No words were shared between you and the man at the other side of the door. He just lent you a small paper bag. You hesitantly grabbed it, then he walked away.

You went back inside. You sat on your bed, asking yourself if you should open the bag or not. To be honest, it wasn't really closed, so the others wouldn't really know if you had looked inside. It's not like he had said you couldn't look. Technically, you were doing nothing wrong—

"What did he give you?".

You hit your head again with the bars.

"Dude, what the fuck!", you rubbed the top of your head. You turned to look at the door, finding the same guy that had sat with you on the dining room more than a week ago. "Oh, it's you", you huffed. "Didn't I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?".

"I know", he walked inside. "But seriously, you need some help with that guy".

"Of course, I do", you smiled sarcastically. "Out of the two times he's talked to me, I haven't been beaten up, I'm not in the hospital and I'm not dead!", you threw your hands up. "I didn't even get in trouble with any cops because of him! Of course I need help with that guy!".

The man stayed silent as you gave him your most sarcastic smile. Then you shifted back to you usual expressionlessness.

"Why do you think I need help?", you shrugged angrily. "Is it because I'm not big and buffed like the dogs he carries around with him?".

"That's not wha—".

"You think I'm weak? Is that it?", you stood up to face him. "Well, lemme tell you something, old man. This is not my first prison, and I've been surviving on my own long enough as to be able to beat the shit out of everyone in this place if I wanted to", you stared into his eyes with your brow deeply frowned.

"I didn't mean that", he spoke slowly, definitely more calmed than you. His eyes flicked down for a moment before looking back into yours. "I jus' thought that, in case he wants to fuck you up real bad, you'd be better with someone by your side".

You cleared your throat and stepped back, looking up at him.

"Someone by my side, huh?", you resisted the urge to laugh. "Because I can't handle myself well enough?".

"I already told you I didn't mean—".

"I know", you chuckled this time. "I'm just fucking with ya", you sat back on the bed. "I understand that you feel alone in here and want a friend. And who better than the new inmate, right?", you gave him a knowing smirk. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Shit, you caught me", he sat beside you as well. "I feel so lonely in this prison", he chuckled. "I'm Francisco, by the way".

"Francisco? What kind of name is that?", you bursted into laughter.

"Jus' call me Frankie, goddammit. No need to make a big fuss 'bout it", his mumbling made you laugh more.

"Yeah, Frankie's a definitely better name".

You spent a couple minutes like that, just laughing at the stupidity of it all. Truth be told, you hadn't laughed that hard in months. And you needed it.

"So", he said after a while. "What's in the bag?".

"I don't know", you looked down at the paper bag in your lap. "A guy just came and gave it to me".

"D'you wanna open it?", he looked at you with hooded eyes.

"I don't know", you took a deep breath. "I don't think I should, but they didn't tell me not to".

"Are you seriously gonna do what he says?".

"What else am I supposed to do? He's gonna fuck me up real bad if I don't", you let out a deep sigh. "I'll find a way out of it".

"What'd he threaten you with?".

Your blood ran cold at his question. You could tell how your face went pale, and your knees would have failed to keep you steady if you weren't seating.

"I'll take care of that", you said, looking at the ground. "I'll just do whatever he wants me to and stay outta trouble for as long as I can", you opened the paper bag, pulling a small disposable phone. "Huh", you put it back were it was. "What a little shit", you mumbled.

"It's a phone now, but what if it turns into somethin' else?", Frankie got up, still looking down at you. "You have to stand up to him—".

"I said I'll take care of that", you stood up to face him once again. "Whatever he does to me, it's my problem, not yours", you stared into his eyes. "I understand you're concerned, and I appreciate it, but you can't be behind my ass all day long. I'm not a kid, I can take care of myself".

Frankie stayed silent for a minute, processing your words. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again:

"Right", he nodded once. "I'm sorry, you're right".

"Right", you nodded, too. "Glad we're on the same page", you let out a heavy sigh. "Oof, sorry. I get pretty carried away when I'm angry".

"Yeah, I can see that", he chuckled. You laughed back.

"Welp", you took the paper bag with the phone and threw it into your pillowcase. "I better not use this thing before that asshole comes looking for it".

"Yeah, you better not".

You could tell he was uncomfortable now. He didn't now what else to say. You knew you usually did that to people who tended to assume you were as weak as your body showed. That was actually one of the reasons why you had learned to survive using violence most of the time, and probably the main cause of your anger problems.

Before you could speak any apologies to him, you heard the walls and doors being hit outside, followed by cops shouting.

"Lights out! Everyone get to sleep!".

You looked at Frankie with a regretful expression. You felt bad for having caused him to be so taken aback and awkward.

"I better get goin'. Cops won't see me in my cell, might be suspicious", he said.

"Yeah", you nodded. "I'll... see you around".

"Sure", he walked out. "See ya".

Fuck, you cursed yourself.

Perfect. The first friend you made in prison ever and you screwed up your first non-violent chat. You could swear you had never felt so bad for taking your anger out on someone else.

Wait.

You had never felt bad for taking your anger out on someone else. That was actually what you were the best at.

Frankie was a good man. You somehow knew it. And you somehow knew he didn't deserve to suffer your anger problems as well. You had started off on the wrong foot, you also knew that well. Maybe the first thing you should do to try and fix it was apologizing. For treating him that bad the first times you talked, for taking your frustration out on him, for showing him the you no one like him should meet—

"Hey", a cop outside your door startled you. "Lights out and get on the goddamn bed".

"Yessir", you turned off the lights and laid on your bed as the cop closed your door and walked away.

You sighed, trying to close your eyes while thinking of what you would say to Frankie when you saw him next morning.

A beeping sound woke you up. You eyes opened in a sudden move and you looked around, confused, despaired.

Two cops were sitting beside your hospital bed, not seeming to have noticed you awake.

Suddenly, everything came back and your memories hit you like a truck.

Your unsteady and heavy breathing alerted the cops. They both stood up and got on both sides of your bed. You tried to get up, a stinging pain in your stomach keeping you laid down. You lifted the hem of your shirt to see it covered by a large gauze, a little bloodied.

Your mind was dizzy as the cops told you about your current medical condition, and about the twenty-five years you were going to spend in prison for murder and trying to commit suicide afterwards.

At least you had gotten rid of your worst nightmare.

"Hey", you sat next to Frankie in the dining room. He smiled at you.

"Hey", he made room for you to sit more comfortably. "You get some sleep?".

"Yeah", you forced a smile. "Kinda", you cleared your throat. "I, uh... Sorry for how I acted yesterday. I didn't have the right to talk to you like that".

"It's fine. I'm like that sometimes, too", he shrugged it off.

"No, I mean it. I shouldn't have—".

"Hey. It's okay, really", he stared into your eyes. "I understand you have... difficulties managin' your feelings, and it's alright", you saw the beginning of a smirk forming on his lips. "I've seen more o' those around here and they don't deal with it as well as you do".

His chuckle made you laugh back.

"Whatever, old man".

You spent the day talking to Frankie, walking around with him, getting to know him. Turns out you were right: he was a good man. And maybe he was a bit too sweet to be in a place like a prison, but he seemed to be doing well. You somehow knew he wouldn't have trouble if he suddenly got into a fight.

The next few weeks went just like that. You stuck to Frankie, and Frankie stuck to you. You found in him the first person to be close to you in a long time. You found a friend in him. He didn't judge you, didn't treat you like the rest of people in you life had. It's not like he knew either, but you really didn't need him to know. There were already enough people in that prison that knew.

Perhaps too many, you thought one of the times you thought about telling Frankie.

So you just accepted the fact that he would probably be your only friend in that prison, and maybe for the rest of your life. Maybe you didn't even have to tell him about—

"Well well well", a pair of hands fell on your shoulders as you picked up your freshly washed clothes. "Look who's alone today, huh?".

"The fuck do you want?", you turned around. There was that asshole again.

"You seem to be nice friends with that cap guy, huh?", he gave you a sarcastic smile. "What did you tell him 'bout us?", his expression shifted very quickly to one of pure anger.

"I didn't tell hi—".

"Bullshit!", he grabbed you by the neck of your shirt and pushed you against the wall. "What did you tell him? You asked for help, huh? Like the pretty little bi—".

You punched him right on the face before he even had the chance of finishing the sentence. He let you go and pulled away to recover, touching his now bloodied nose. The men behind him took a step forward, but he signaled them to stay back. And he just laughed.

"I. Told him. Nothing", you repeated. The guy in front of you sniffed and chuckled again.

"Wow", he stood up. "You have guts, gotta admit it", he fixed his nose. "Maybe I did cross a line there. I'm sorry", he shrugged. "Be careful, though. Next time, my dogs won't be as merciful", he looked back at them and nodded. Then he approached you. "You better not tell that fucker anything of our agreement. Wouldn't want the whole prison —including him— knowing what you really are, huh?".

You didn't say a word, but your silence was enough answer for him.

"Good", he cleaned the blood off his nose. "See ya around, little one".

Once again, he walked away.

Part of you felt relieved because you hadn't gotten yourself nor Frankie into trouble. Part of you still cursed yourself for being so fucked up.

That is how you survived your first year in that prison: doing favors to those pieces of shit and sticking to Frankie. You had learned a lot about him —what he used to do before ending up in prison, how he got there, the reason why he didn't get any visits...

You also told him all of that. What you used to do before ending up in prison, the reason why you didn't get any visits... You might have lied a bit when you told him how you got there, but he seemed not to notice —or at least not to mind that you did. Maybe he wanted to give you some space, and he understood that your situation was complicated. Whatever it was, you thanked him in your mind for not asking any more questions about it.

You became closer to him that you ever planned on. He talked to you every day, seemed to be the only one to care about you in that shitty place, made sure you were doing okay even with the assholes behind you. He even seemed not to want to let you go too far away from him, except when necessary. And even if you hated to admit it, being around him —or well, having him around you— made you feel safer than if you were by yourself. You and him both knew you weren't with him for protection —you could take care of that yourself. But he still made you feel protected, but not weak. And you didn't want to admit it, but you knew you had felt that before.

And it really, really scared you.

Of course, you kept having your disagreements with the group. Many disagreements. But you managed to keep it cool so that they would leave you and Frankie alone, which they surprisingly did. And you didn't get caught by the cops around either, which was also a surprise, but you wouldn't complain. Not when you had managed to keep you and Frankie out of trouble.

Yep, I've fallen so hard, you said to yourself one day. You were scared to admit it, but you weren't doing to lie to yourself about something you already knew.

"Well, hello", you turned around to see him standing behind you on the shower stall, scanning you up and down. You quickly wrapped your towel around your body and started getting dressed, trying to let him see as little as possible.

"What do you want?", you made sure to sound upset this time.

"You got what I was waiting for?", he sat at the bench outside the showers. You grabbed a small bag with herb from inside your pants and tossed it at him. He put it in his pocket. "Good".

He stood there, watching you, but he didn't say anything else. You frowned, trying to decrypt his expression. It wasn't the one he usually had. He seemed to be eyeing you with pity, but had at the same time he had a knowing look.

"Want anything else?", you crossed your arms and leaned on the lockers. He kept his pitiful, knowing look displayed on his eyes.

"Yeah", he looked down for a moment. "I wanted to talk to you about something. It's not about me this time, promise", he moved to the side of the bench and patted the spot next to him so you would sit. You reluctantly did. "You see...", he cleared his throat. "There's one of my dogs that... Well, actually a couple of 'em... that know about your... physical condition", he stared into his eyes.

Your heart started beating quickly, anger cursing through your veins.

"Some of them have been in here for a quite some time now, and... Well, they haven't had fun in a while, and since you're doing me some favors, I thought you wouldn't have trouble doing some to the—".

Your fist crashed against his face, this time harder than the last time you had punched him. Your other fist did, too. One, two, three, four times, you lost count.

"You think I'm some slut you can sell?! Huh?! That's what you like?! Fucking little boys like me?!", you spat on his face, hitting it again and again. "You fucking pervert, son of a bitch, piece of—!".

Now it was his fist what impacted on your face.

You fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He got on top of you, just like you had done with him, and started punching your face again and again and again.

Eventually, you lost conscience of your surroundings. Probably one of his blows hit you somewhere in the brain and left you dizzy. You could just feel more pain in your face and head, even though you couldn't even lift your arms or legs to try and defend yourself. The only thing you got to hear before you fell completely unconscious was how someone pulled him away from you and grabbed you to take you somewhere.

He was in his cell with his cellmate —who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you.

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He had been watching you ever since you got in that prison. And when the group got inside your cell that day, his suspicions about you were confirmed. You were exactly what they needed. Why would a little man like you make the cops think you were dangerous? Simple, you weren't. That's why they picked you out of everyone.

You were right thinking Frankie wanted to protect you from them. Not because you were small —he was sure you could defend yourself just right— but because he needed to, because his heart told him it was the right thing to do. That's why he insisted on approaching you as well.

He knew you were going to be close friends the moment you apologized for talking to him in such a rude way. And he knew he liked you too much for his own good. But honestly, he didn't care. The need to protect you made him not care at all. It actually just made him embrace his feelings more. It never really bothered him to be attracted to someone. He knew he was a bit of a lovestruck guy, and whenever he knew he liked someone he didn't hesitate to admit it —unlike you.

He told you what he used to do before ending up in prison, what he did to end up in there, the reason why he didn't get any visits... He wouldn't usually tell someone that, but it was different with you. He had the feeling that you understood him, that you could empathize with him and wouldn't judge him for just anything. On the other hand, he knew you were lying to him about why you ended up in prison and why you didn't really have any friends —in or out. But he knew it wasn't easy for you —he had already seen how difficult it was for you to keep your feelings controlled, so he didn't want to push things unnecessarily further. He wanted to give you your space, since he knew he had already kind of taken that from you the moment he insisted on continuing to talk with you.

Or at least he wanted to, until he saw that asshole beating the shit out of you in the shower stalls.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary. He stayed there long enough to hear them say you were going to take some time until you were fully recovered, and that you would probably be unconscious for a couple days. He also heard them mention the other guy was better than you, that his time in bed would be briefer than yours.

A cop came to them both and asked them about what had happened. Frankie could only say that he had seen that asshole already beating you when he arrived. The cop could only say he would have to do extra work for a week as a punishment for leaving the other guy unconscious, but at least he understood Frankie just wanted to protect you.

"You did good", he said to him.

Then he went to talk to the other guy. And Frankie could only fist his hands and hope no to break anything.

"I was asking him to help me with something in the shower and he just started punching me!", was what he said.

"What about the wounds on his face?".

"Well, I had to protect myself!".

"Sure", the cop wrote something on a paper, then stood up. "As soon as you're out of bed, you're being transferred to the next block".

A smile formed on Frankie's lips as the guy shouted complaints at the cop. Still, he knew you weren't safe. Not yet. Not even with him away. And he knew his dogs were everywhere —this block, the next, the prison some kilometers away from that one...

But he would still try to keep you out of danger.

The next day, he was in his cell with his cellmate—who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you.

The truth about you.

He grabbed your hand softly in his, examining your broken knuckles and bloodied skin. He should have known better than to leave you alone like that in the shower stalls. He should have been with you. He should have protected you, like he had told himself he would.

"I'm sorry", he whispered.

Distant voices woke you up. A female one and two males. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you didn't need to. You remembered everything pretty well.

You tried to stretch yourself, despite the way your face was hurting terribly. Still, you couldn't move one of your arms. Your hand was being held by another.

You opened your eyes and saw Frankie sitting beside you, his hand holding yours even with his eyes closed. As soon as he felt you move, he opened them and sat up, staring into your eyes.

"Oh god", he breathed out. A smile played on his lips as he examined you. "You okay?".

His question made you laugh.

"Well, I've been better", you smiled at him. "But I'll survive", you looked around. "How long have I been...?".

"Four days. Well, three and a half", he swiped his thumb over the back of your hand, you figured involuntarily. "They've been taking good care of you".

"I bet...", you looked down at his hand on yours. Frankie pulled away as soon as he saw you do it.

"Sorry—".

"No, it's okay", you were the one to grab his hand this time. "I don't mind...", you whispered that last part. Frankie tried to hold back his own smile. Then something he remembered made it go away as soon as it had come. "What?", you stared into his eyes. He kept swiping his thumb small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Will you tell me—", he paused to breathe; "What's the deal with you?".

"What do you mean—".

"I know you lied to me, Lost", he tried to keep it cool, but his eyes gave away how mad he was at you for not having told him the truth and having gotten in so much trouble because of it. "I... I already know... a bit of it, but—".

You turned around to try and find the asshole that had shattered your face, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"They moved him a block away from here", he answered even before you could ask. "He still had the chance to spread the rumor, though".

"Shit", you whispered to yourself. You looked down, biting your downer lip and trying to stop your own tears from coming out, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your face.

"Hey", he grabbed your chin softly, careful not to hurt you more than you already were, and made you look at him. "Tell me what's wrong", he spoke slowly. "Whatever it is, I don't care. It'll still be you no matter what", he caught a tear halfway down your face, his skin grazing lightly against yours. You took a deep breath.

"A... couple years ago... I had someone really close to me", you sniffed. "I... He got me... pregnant... And...", you dried off your tears. "I didn't want... I couldn't..." you took a shaky deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "He also tried to... run away...", you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "He was into drugs... and was told to move... Without telling me...", you sighed in an attempt to ignore the way your breathing was starting to get heavy and your chest was starting to hurt. "I couldn't take it anymore", you sniffled again and looked away from Frankie, unable to maintain your eyes on his piercing look. "I shot him. And...", you lifted your shirt just enough to reveal a big scar that went across your stomach. "I shot the baby, too", your voice broke.

"Oh, Lost", he reached out to grab and hug you. "I'm so sorry", he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down a little. You held tight onto him, squeezing him as close to you as you could.

He kept you in his arms for a while as you cried out your grief. Everything made more sense after you told him the truth. He finally felt like he understood you, really understood you and your feelings. And he finally felt like his feelings were resolved, just like yours.

He had to leave when some cops came to interrogate you about what had happened in the shower stalls a few days ago, but he promised to come back to see you that night. In the meantime, you answered the cops' questions and tried to rest as well as your pain allowed you to.

You got out of bed a week after that. The first thing you did was hug Frankie, since he was waiting outside the infirmary. He took you to your cell, staying by your side and not walking more than two steps away from you. Everyone was looking at you either with a weirded out expression or with hungry eyes. As soon as you noticed, you got even closer to Frankie.

That was the moment you gave up on trying not to look small or weak. Every single man on that prison was now trying to fuck you or fuck you up. Damn, you had never felt so vulnerable.

Good thing I have my brick wall over here, you thought.

Frankie could see the looks the other inmates gave you, and the ones you gave them. If he felt like he had to protect you before, now he felt even more responsible —especially since he had let that motherfucker beat you like that. He felt guilty, and even though you tried to tell him it wasn't his fault he couldn't get that thought out of his mind.

"Look at me", you grabbed his jaw, making him look at you, just like he had down a week before when you were still in that bed in the infirmary —tough this time you were in your bed. "It wasn't your fault. I told you it was my problem and that I'd deal with it, and so I did".

"I know", he stared into your eyes. "But if I had done something, if I had gone talk to him or—".

"You couldn't, Frankie", you tightened your grip on his jaw. "Look, he had threatened to tell everyone if he found out I told you anything. It would've happened sooner or later, I just exploded when he asked me to do that with he and his men", you let go of him. "Think about it this way —if you hadn't come just in time to stop him from beating me to death, I wouldn't be here right now", you patted his thigh. "So you saved me anyway. And I also got you to keep me away from those creeps", you both laughed at that.

"I guess you're right", he sighed. "Still sorry".

"Didn't I just tell you not to be?", you crossed your arms and stared into his eyes with a frown. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his lips.

"But I still am", he crossed his arms as well. "What, am I not allowed to be?".

"Not if I tell you not to be".

"Ooh, getting bossy", he chuckled. "I like that".

"Okay, now you're acting like one of those freaks out there".

"Come on, y'know I'm not like—".

"Shut up, old man".

You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, passionate, nice kiss. Frankie stayed still for a moment before replying with just as much passion. You then pulled away to look into his eyes. You were both smiling.

"Wow", he whispered. "Didn't think you'd take the lead".

"Well, someone had to, and you didn't seem to be going to, so...", you grabbed his hand. "I couldn't bear the sexual tension anymore".

"Oh, sexual tension?", he rolled on top of you. "We can fix that...".

"No! Gross! Get away!", you laughed and pulled him off of you.

"Why?" he approached again, leaning down to leave a trail of small kisses down your neck. "I wanna...".

"Frankie, no", you pulled him off again, this time with a serious look on your face. Frankie's smirk was immediately deleted when he saw you, and seemed to be asking for an explanation. "I... I can't", you looked down. "Not like this, I'm... not ready", you cleared your throat before looking back up at him.

"M'kay", he grabbed your hand once more. "We won't do anythin' you don't wanna".

You smiled at him, thankful. He understood that you needed space and you weren't ready yet to show him that part of you. And he would respect you and your decision not to. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, make you push him away from you. So he put it back in his pants and gave you a comforting smile.

He stuck with you all the time, by your side, not daring to leave you alone. Whenever some guy would look at you with a weird face, he gave him a warning look —or push him away from you both. He didn't let anyone other than the cops get close to you, which you thanked him for in multiple occasions. For once in a long, long time, you weren't afraid of being too small or weak. You weren't worried about your looks anymore. You weren't worried about anything with Frankie beside you. He was your only reason to want to keep going despite being in a place such as that damned prison. The only reason why you wanted to keep going at all.

The only reason why you preferred spending twenty years in prison before being back out in that shitty world.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you

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thisfanisgonesorry · 10 months

Note

Feel free to ignore this request/ Would you write spy x reader having casual sex with him verbally teasing her because of the age gap and her daddy kink 🤧

i am so fucking sorry that it took me so long but i also had NO idea how to start it, to make up for that fact, its rlly fucking long. im not really happy with it but i feel bad if i keep this in drafts any longer. its mostly rlly sweet so i hope it has enough teasing for you. heavily inspired by my heart belongs to daddy + some other songs similar to that. (btw if a hookup kisses your forehead, hes a piece of shit, its only hot when dilfs do it),

tags: smut duh, hes daddy lol so,, hookup/one night stand. age gap obviously. lightly lolita inspired so its up for interpretation if this is a felony or not. ur getting seduced because,, obviously, maybe a virgin? maybe not? kind of implied ur just inexperienced compared to him, unhappy ending oops, soft sex but he gets a little aggro, panty snatcher 9000

tbh hes hard to write dialogue for but i <3 him. (also i wrote enough dialogue for a part 2 except my brain stopped working so i had to cut it short) (beta didnt read all of it so hopefully its okay)

;;

“You have to admit, it’s a little exciting, no?”

“You could say that.” I grinned anxiously as he held my chin to make me look up at him.

“Not a soul can know about this, ma cherie.” He said, lightly kissing my lips. I leaned softly into his touch as he spoke. “I hope you understand.”

And deep down, it was beyond easy to tell that he meant that in more than one way, almost like he had a handful of reasons to not speak about this, for no one to find out. He could spoon feed any excuse to keep this hush hush.

“Yeah, I know.” I swallowed thickly. “You’re very handsome.”

“And you are very beautiful.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” I reached up to touch his face, though hesitated because of his mask.

“Go on.” He whispered.

He took my hand in his and placed it against his cheek, the fabric was soft and well cared for, his jawline felt sharp under the touch and I could only imagine what he properly looked like without the damn thing on. The soft fabric enticed me to stroke his cheek softly which he, after a few seconds of processing, leaned into with a soft hum, clearly interested by how much I was mesmerised by such a simple item. The way we paused for this one moment of tenderness.

“Can I take it off?”

“No.” He said somewhat sternly before softening, he stayed in thought momentarily.

My hand left his face, meeting on his shoulders and both hands trailing down the front of his suit, feeling the expensive fabric under my touch. I nodded softly in understanding, though he could sense the disappointment.

“Maybe another time, ma cherie, right now, this is for both of our safety.” His eyebrows knitted together, and it was clear to tell that he wasn’t happy about it either though, admittedly, the idea of there being another time in the future was almost exciting enough to make up for it.

“No, I understand.” I spoke, not telling the entire truth and it was somewhat evident in my voice that it was, in fact, not okay.

“I want this to be wonderful, my dear. Please don’t be upset.”

I looked around his fancy hotel room, not booked for me but it was still an honour to be invited here, the last hour and a half is a blur and all I’d rather focus on is the man over twice my age standing in front of me.

“This is wonderful.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me close to him and taking us to a very fancy couch in the large hotel room with a faux fireplace. All we need now is a bearskin rug. We basically flopped onto the couch with little to no grace and I was almost fully prepared for whatever will come next.

A short laugh escaped both of us at the short tumble. He repositioned us to sit somewhat awkwardly with him hovering above me as he began to gently kiss and nip at my neck. I leaned against the armrest, the harsh wood pressing into my back.

“You are... heaven.” He spoke, unsure if he was using the right words as he continued to kiss my flesh softly, despite his hands being harshly digging into my hips. “You are perfection.” He whispered, trailing off slightly, losing himself in his thoughts.

“Y’think so?” I breathed.

“How does it feel to be with a man who wants you?” He lightly teased as his fingers slowly lingered off my hips and under the hem of my dress, bunching it up as his hands returned to their original place.

“It’s intoxicating.” I admitted, saying it almost too quickly.

“You are intoxicating.” He smugly smiled, pressing a strong kiss on my lips. “You like getting drunk on a man’s love.” He began to slowly analyse. God, he must be good at his job.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little, but there’s nobody here but me and you in this big and safe room.”

I felt a little embarrassed by his comments, simply reaching up to unbutton his suit, pulling the tie loose and unbuttoning the white shirt. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on a nearby chair, letting my hands take their sweet time on undressing him. The mask was bunched around his neck slightly, hanging somewhat loosely around his collarbones which was usually covered by the neckline of his suit.

“You just love feeling desired, don’t you?”

I stared up at him, his words bounced around in my brain like an infection as I continued to unbutton his shirt. “Yes.” I confessed, though he was already well aware.

“A beautiful girl like yourself deserves appreciation.” The way he said ‘girl’ slowly dripped off his tongue and floated in the air. He was mocking me.

“Thank you, daddy.” I acted boldly, dipping my toes in the water as I wrapped my arms loosely around him, his shirt now only halfway unbuttoned.

He froze, completely still, staring down at me with an unreadable face, and all he did for a few moments was stare with a slightly agape mouth before finally letting out a small laugh.

“That.. was a surprise. You’re really into this. You’re not afraid at all.” He spoke somewhat calmly but with a sense of condescension in his words. We both leaned closer to each other, thoughts running wild.

“C’mon, Daddy.” My lips ghosted over his, my hands trailing down his torso again and landing on his hips, he took a sharp inhale and stared down at me with his half-lidded eyes and a now clenched jaw.

“Merde.” He cursed quietly. “Don’t.”

He quietly snaked his hand around my throat loosely, not applying any pressure but more as a blank threat to stop pushing him and to distance my face slightly away from his.

“I’ll stop.” I lied through my teeth and he furrowed his eyebrows at it, knowing it to be a lie.

His lips twitched, threatening to turn into a smile though he tried to remain stone-faced as he contemplated what I deserved. He kept one hand around my throat as the other stayed glued to my hip, he began rubbing small circles with his thumb as he thought.

“You are in very experienced hands.” He finally said, leaning in to kiss me again.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked sweetly.

“What would you like me to do? What would make you happy?” He spoke slowly with a deep reverence, the way the words fell from his mouth was strangely erotic but you know what they say about french accents.

I took a moment too long to answer, so he freely slid his hands into my panties and felt his way to my clit, much faster than anyone previously. I closed my eyes softly and he could read the surprise written on my face. He began to move slowly, his mouth slightly opening as he watched me keenly.

“God.” I breathed out.

“How do you feel? Do you like being with a man instead of a boy?” He smirked slightly, moving his hand slightly faster and releasing my throat from his grasp. “You must not be used to being treated so kindly, for someone to desire you, to wish to ravish you, to enrapture.” He rambled on, enjoying the view beneath him.

“Never had anything like this before.”

“This is what a real man does. We take care of our women, make sure they’re happy.” He took a shaking breath as he watched every move I made, his hand moved from my throat to gently stroke the side of my face and pet my hair. “We make them feel beautiful, tell me, do you feel beautiful?”

“Yes, I do.” I tried to maintain eye contact and despite the slow pace, he felt really good.

“A mature man does whatever his woman wants.” He hummed. “We have big, strong arms that can hold them up. We can catch them when they fall. Do you enjoy being treated this way, little girl?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He furrowed his eyebrows sternly, despite knowing what would happen when he called me a little girl. It was so clear that it was getting under his skin in such an interesting way, one that I’ve never seen before. “Let me see you.”

I blinked momentarily at his question, which seemed more like a statement, before it clicked. “Oh, yes.” I spoke nervously as I lifted my hips for him.

He still looked mostly emotionless as he slowly peeled away the black panties and also threw it to the side which will be a bitch to find a little later. He admired it for a moment, both hands on my hips, holding me from squirming away and I felt like shrinking under his gaze. He spat harshly on the view. “Such a pretty chatte, ma petite fille.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled softly as his fingers lowered and rested right there where I needed him, threatening to dip into me, rubbing small circles around the hole. I was clenching around nothing, wanting him inside me, letting out small gasps at the feeling, and he rolled his eyes sarcastically, placing his hand over my mouth as he pushed his long fingers deep inside me. I let out a muffled moan at his actions, staring up at him wide eyed. “Don’t you dare say what you’re thinking.” He said sternly, trying very hard to dissuade me as he slowly lowered his hand, resting it gently around my throat.

I nodded at his words. “Fuck.” I whined.

“How would you like me to finger you, ma cherie?” I blinked at his question, it was unexpected to hear. He quirked an eyebrow before rolling his eyes again. “Do I need to show you?”

“Yes.” I responded, slightly embarrassed. He switched between two distinct styles then tilted his head for a response. I took a second to catch my breath and think. “Uh, second one?”

“Anything for you.” He praised as he slowly moved his incredibly and unnaturally talented fingers.

He slowly began to amp it up and I let out pitiful gasps and moans as he went to work, cold-faced besides the occasional smile which he’d try to hide. I wanted to writhe and scream against his touch, feeling electrified.

“Feels good?” He asked softly, leaning forward and kissing my forehead.

“Yeah, it feels really good.” I spoke, biting my lip to restrain myself from calling him daddy.

His free hand fell from my throat and tried to undo the buttons on his shirt but struggled due to his limitations, he withdrew his hand and stuck it in his mouth briefly before continuing to shrug off his shirt. He grinned at the sweetness before placing his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him so I was no longer awkwardly leaning against the armrest and laying flat down on the couch.

He had shallow breathing as he began to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. I kinda took him for a briefs guy. Nonetheless, he attempted to strip himself from his remaining clothes. It was a little awkward to watch admittedly.

I ran my hands up and down his toned stomach momentarily as he shuffled his pants just low enough for him to comfortably free his erection, giving it a few languid strokes before aligning it to me.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled as he pushed in, slowly at first but quick to bottom out to get it over and done with. “Mon dieu, ma petite fille.”

“Ah, fuck—” I cursed out as I grabbed onto his arm harshly at the feeling.

“Hey, Y/n.” He hushed. “Shh, you’re alright.” He spoke through gritted teeth, clearly trying to restrain himself in the slightest.

I nodded. “I’m alright.” I held onto him harshly, still trying to get used to the size.

“God, you’re so warm and soft.” He panted, groaning quietly.

“Mhm. ‘m not tight?” I breathed slowly.

“You feel just like a woman should.” I clenched around him and he let out a guttural groan. “Merde, mais tu es serré, si serré.” He rambled, his hands harshly digging into my hips.

“Huh?”

His head went limp and dipped down into the crevice of my neck. “Gonna need you to relax, can’t—” He grunted. I tried to level my breathing as he placed soft kisses on my neck. “I said you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

I writhe against the couch below him, feeling the slow drag of his velvety skin, despite being slow, it was deep. His eyes were hooded as they looked down at me and I struggled to keep eye contact. “Fuck, hurts.” I groaned softly, pushing at his hips to try to relieve some of the tension.

“Désolé.” He spoke softly, still pressing soft kisses against my skin and trying to rub smooth circles into my hips. “There is nothing better than this.”

The slow drag of his cock was intoxicating, I was devoid of words as his hand softly pressed against my stomach as his thumb reached to play with my clit, the soft fabric of my dress still bunched up at my waist.

“Si vous lisez ceci, j'avais juste besoin de remplissage.”

“Feels so good, daddy.” I finally cursed out.

He grunted with a particularly harsh thrust. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and I could already sense what was about to happen.

“You’re just a little girl. I’ll treat you like one.” He spat as he littered kisses down my neck again, contrary to his words. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re nothing compared to an experienced, well established, refined man like me. Is that what you wanted?” He spoke, dragging out the syllables of every word that left his mouth.

“What are you gonna do, daddy?” I spoke as he looked down at me with all the willpower that was left in his body. His thrust began to pick up pace slowly as I was adjusting to him, he hovered over me, entirely naked besides the mask.

“I’m gonna show you how a man treats a woman.”

“And how am I going to go back to boys after you do?”

“You won’t.” He responded plainly but with a slight grin. “I’ll ruin you for young men. Why would you want to go back to a boy anyway? You won’t have to worry about boys.” He spoke possessively, purring at the feel of my body beneath him.

I let out a pathetic moan at the way he was speaking, feeling putty in his hands and more than willing to let this man ruin me for anyone less than experienced.

He basically growled as his pager beeped at him. “Saved by the bell.”

“Wha— Huh?” I responded in a lust-filled daze as he haltered his movements completely and gave me a moment to rejoin planet earth before he continued.

“I need to go. Work calls.”

“Oh.” I frowned, pulling his face closer to mine to kiss him properly. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed at the sudden end, though by the looks of it, so was he given that his jaw was so clenched you could practically hear teeth cracking under the pressure.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, he placed one last kiss before leaving the situation entirely.

He pulled himself out and unbunched the skirt from around my waist, though we both had no idea where my panties had ended up. He began to put his suit back on slowly but equally so, he had no idea where his tie was.

“You can stay if you wish.” He said solemnly.

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No, I don’t know when I’ll be back but there’s no point letting this hotel room go to waste with no one staying in it.” He looked around. “It was quite expensive.” He whispered softly, there were teasing undertones but it was clear he was trying to convince me into staying, like this was the one service he could provide for me, despite his sudden departure.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back sometime in the morning, then we can get breakfast.”

“You’re gonna come back?”

“It would be rude to leave you, no?” He spoke, looking down at me while he buttoned up his shirt before slipping on his jacket and smoothing his mask below the collar. Without his tie, he left the first button undone on the white shirt and it looked enticing. “How else am I supposed to show you that boys are just a waste of time?”

“That is true. So.. You’ll see me again?” I tried to joke back with him but it hung in the air and he could sense the disappointment and hesitation.

“Yes.” He answered thickly. “I mean, I really shouldn’t but.. I seem to be unable to stop myself nonetheless.” He leant in for another kiss before hesitating and deciding to place it on the forehead instead. “The bed is very soft, ma cherie. I must insist you stay the night, at the very least.” He repeated softly.

“I’ll stay.” I nodded, unsure if I would keep my promise.

“You can order room service if you need.” He spoke again, picking up his pager and sliding it into his suit jacket. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

He nodded silent as he trudged through the room, he picked up his small duffel bag and did a silent salute goodbye before bending over again and picking up something from the ground and sliding it into his pocket, not that I saw what it was.

“I bid you adieu.” He spoke softly from the doorway before disappearing off into the night.

#asks #smut #spy tf2 #team fortress #tf2 #team fortress 2 smut #tf2 smut #spy x you #spy x reader #spy tf2 smut #tf2 spy smut #spy smut #spy tf2 x you #spy tf2 x reader #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 spy x you #fanfiction #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 fanfic

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celabi · 1 year

Note

hi i miss u sm i come here everyday

okay but like when you said scummy heizou.. i got all excited CAUSE IM CURRENTLY HYPERFIXATED ON HIM RN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HES SO PRETTY

anyway, i think rather than being a loser i think he would be someone respected by others, since yk detective stuff, but some people find him creepy BECAUSE he knows a lot. despite being popular af and maybe in student council i think he would actually try to hide his scumminess?? for self image but deep. deep down inside he loves you almost as much as scummy scara would (not AS much no one can replace our lil princess). like he knows so much about you, maybe even everything. hes sneaky too so that gives an advantage. i think he would be able to do those yandere sim rival eliminations too (matchmake, maybe even manipulate someone too) and instead of being like the og babygirl we all want to see oiled up during the "arguing to let a teacher sit with you" i believe that he HAS such a good reputation to the point he can choose the seating charts. and ohoho what do you know? your friends are on the other side of the room to "prevent you from getting distracted" but hey, at least that gacha life fallen angel sits next to you, maybe its a little embarrassing cause YOU? sit next to HIM? dont be silly. fuck it happened. and maybe if you're failing he WILL do everything to be your tutor, just to sneak a few (a lot) of pictures of you on his phone, spend time together and see what you like! <3 (not that it matters. he already knows, hes a detective he knows all your dirty secrets)

MAYBEE out of character cause its early in the morning and my head is NOT RIGHT feel free to change ANYTHING you want cause im not satisfied. anyway sorry this was long and i had to bother you with this 😭

- WITH SPECIAL LOVE TO MY FAVORITE TUMBLR BLOGGER (and cuddling under the stars partner), 🎐 anon

YES BC I WROTE THAT HES IN THE STUDENT COUNCIL WHAT 😳😳😳 liek like liek he abuses his power of a high rank and gets to do stuff like other students can’t, like pull you out off class when he feels like it, or study with you in a private area instead of the crowded library.

But just cause he’s respected, doesn’t mean he’s not scummy. Heizou is always resting his hand on the lower of your back and trailing it down until either it finally lands on your behind, or you pull away before he he has the chance to grope you. He’s so kind and gives you cold bottles of water, but spits it in, so every time you take a sip, your basically kissing tbh. He’s putting what he thinks are love letters in your locker, but they’re actually kind of disturbing from the way he tells you things that he probably shouldn’t know, like “I love how kind you are to your dog, it’s just so adorable.” Or “I see the way people are your job are quite rude to you, maybe you should quit.” It’s just kinda creepy, but he thinks he’s doing a good job.

He’s not shy like scummy scara, instead he’s more proud, and popular. People don’t shove his shoulders when he walks past, but high five, and greet him. He teases you to get a reaction, and I guarantee that whatever reaction you do give him, it’s gonna give him a boner. You look flustered after he complimented your body? Oh you just look so cute that he couldn’t help it. You look annoyed? He likes the way your eyes narrow at him, and couldn’t help it. You look mad, and walk away? Holy fuck that was so hot, and if you yelled at him, he probably would have cum a little tbh.

I really don’t know when I’ll post the proper thing I wrote, but hopefully soon. It’s gonna be long though, like 3k words and I’ve only finished heizou and slightly started xiao and Gorous 🫡

#🎐 anon #🍃 — chatting ☆彡 #scummy heizou :(

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stickstone · 7 months

Text

ok so! my predictions for thunder based on the preview (spoilers under cut of course)

starting off with the prologue. my first thought reading it was that it might be hinting at her being eventually being the leader of riverclan, heavily emphasizing this idea of destiny. i also feel like it’s pretty much confirmed at this point that frostpaw really doesn’t have the special starclan connection, which is honestly a really fun little twist on the usual warrior cats formula and ALSO further makes me wonder about curlfeather and what she was up to

that brings me to the frostpaw chapter, obviously. i love how urgent everything feels here. you can really feel frostpaw’s panic and distrust in this chapter, it’s great. also her decision to make sure only whistlepaw knows she’s still alive is actually very smart. if her attacker thinks she’s dead that means she’ll be able to figure things out and come up with a plan without worrying about being attacked again. i can already foresee some problems it will cause though and i’m Very excited for that

next up nightheart chapter. no secret that he’s my least favorite of the protagonists this arc lol, but this chapter was pretty good. or maybe i was just giddy about squirrelstar (yes i know it’s still up in the air. but look. i really really want it to be real. ok.) im not really sure why squirrelflight decided she wanted nightheart specifically there but i understand that he kinda has to be there for the plot to progress, cause obviously he’s going to end up running into frostpaw. he seems like he might be more tolerable this book, mostly because all of the female characters around him aren’t being portrayed as evil harpies sent to kill him

and finally! sunbeam. i’ll be honest i think she’s my favorite this arc. i love her interactions with some of the thunderclan cats, and am VERY glad that the erins didn’t make sparkpelt and finchlight evil xenophobes who vehemently hate nightheart’s girlfriend. berryheart is such a fun antagonist and the way that she’s actually able to get sunbeam to doubt herself and her relationship with nightheart is so good. especially because she has a point! nightheart has continually put himself before sunbeam and placed her in bad positions, this is not at all a stable situation sunbeam’s in

based on these chapters, i can pretty easily guess where things are going. nightheart meets frostpaw and, for whatever reason, she needs him to help her on her quest (which makes sense considering she is severely injured). because nobody can know that frostpaw’s alive, nightheart either won’t be able to tell sunbeam that he’s leaving OR will be able to speak to her briefly. either way, he’s leaving her alone. again. which is pretty much a confirmation of sunbeam’s worst fears, and sort of proves berryheart right. because of this sunbeam is going to really struggle, not just with her trials, but with the fact that she’s made a massive life change for someone who might not even like her back. Looking Forward To This

last thing! i wasn’t really sold on ivypool as deputy initially but now that i think about it there’s a lot of potential. i really liked her in sunbeam’s chapter, and i’m honestly very eager to see how her opinions on cross clan relationships and clan switching have changed after bristlefrost’s death. there could be a lot of fun stuff to explore there, and also idk. maybe she’ll finally apologize to dovewing. that would be great.

but uh yeah. genuinely looking forward to this book, i’m very excited.

#warrior cats #wc #a starless clan #asc thunder #frostpaw #nightheart #wc sunbeam #berryheart

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cyber-celeste · 2 years

Text

Twst Characters Reaction to a Cosplayer Reader

A/N: (they/them) This is fully my characterization of the characters so please correct me if i get something canonically wrong also this is just NRC students i will be doing staff and RSA. I also took out jack, lillia, ortho, rook, silver and sebek because i either dont know much about them or simply dont want to

Riddle Rosehearts

Doesn’t get why you’d dress up as someone else yet supports it fully

He’ll ask about the characters if they interest him in the design

Very confused, flustered and kinda scared if you show more skin and/or wear more extreme cosplays like Tomie’s true form from junjito or anything more graphic

“Y/N may I ask you more of the people you’re dressing as?” He questions as he walks with you, he had always loved seeing you excited so he makes sure to pay attention and ask questions with a bright smile on his face.

Trey Clover

Doesn’t really care (in the sweetest way) though he may get a little jealous if people stare at you

Enjoys baking with you while you’re in cosplay and/or you just talking about the characters as he does most the work

Likes to observe but I can’t really see him trying it out himself

You sit on the the counter talking about why you cosplayed them today while trey makes the tarts for the unbirthdays only occasionally speaking for questions on the character and asking you to hand something to him “uh could you repeat that? Sorry I was too caught up in fillings” he says now moving on to the next step in the recipe.

Cater Diamond

Really likes to hold photoshoots with you all the time

Supports and loves all your cosplays

Loves posting you on his magicam

“Hold still for five more seconds please!” Cater rushingly shout at you, you were probably in the most uncomfortable position ever but well beauty is pain as you hear the final click of his phone you both let out a tired sigh moving from the positions.

Deuce Spade

Doesn’t care about what you wear and what you do he will always love and support you

Will totally go to cosplay/fabric/any store with you and try his best to help with anything from bags to picking out what makeup you should wear

Defiantly gets flustered when you wear something that shows more skin

“Which one… which one…” you mumble to yourself looking through wigs “I can’t decide between lace-front or regular wigs” you whine for no reason “… well for the character wouldn’t it be best for a lace front because it shows their hairline?” Deuce says holding bags of random items “ yes! You’re so right!” You almost yell gleefully grabbing the wig you finally chose.

Ace Trappola

Makes fun of you (or teases you whatever you wanna call it)

Doesn’t like when you go out in more revealing outfits

“How long is that gonna take” ace says impatiently walking around “sorry its gonna take a second to get on ace” you whisper-yell from the room you’re changing in “well we don’t have a second” he argues back as you finish up and walk out “do I look good?” You ask him while walking “I think you look great” he almost whispers looking away

Leona Kingscholar

Doesn’t care but thinks its a pain at the same time

Only likes the comfy cosplays so he can sleep with you

He despises pokey armor and/or bigger cosplays

“Oi herbivore c’mere” Leona says waving you to come closer “what is it?” You ask leaning down at his lazing form and before you know it he’s pulled you down causing you to yelp “calm down would ya? Im just tryna get some sleep” he says as he pulls you to his chest

Ruggie Bucchi

He thinks it’s adorable!

Might try to talk about who you’re dressing up as

I don’t know much about ruggie sorry

“Hi, who are you today?” Ruggie asks jokingly with a big teasing smile plastered on his face “Oh hi ruggie! Im in *insert character* today.” You say smiling back waving your hand “you look cute” he says rubbing your head “thank you!” You said smiling.

Azul Ashengrotto

He may be a little confused at first but he catches on quick and tries to think of how he can incorporate it into the monstro lounge

If you deny it he doesn’t mind and if you guys are good friends and/or his S/O he will buy you expensive and high quality cosplay items

If you accept he will make it the most comfortable experience he can making your safety and comfort his number one priority

“Hello…” you say as you open the door to azul’s office “oh Y/N just the person I wanted to see, please take a seat.” he says grabbing something from a cabinet “do you know why you’re here?” He questions as he walks to sit on the couch in front of you “am I in trouble or something?” You question fidgeting with your hands “oh heavens no maybe even the opposite.” He says overly exaggeratedly while crossing his legs “I’m here to offer a job to you Y/N.” He pushes the paper towards you patiently awaiting your response, its a job offer for you to work as a waiter/waitress in cosplay, as soon as he sees you put down the paper he asks “so Y/N is it a deal?”

Jade Leech

Finds the hobby very interesting

Likes to sew you little accessories and even full cosplays

Enjoys helping you with makeup

“Hold still dear I just need to do one more thing” he says sewing on the buttons on the back of your costume “all done… how does it feel?” He says after he buttons up the back of the costume “ It feels perfect jade thank you so much!” You say as you get up to leave “bye-bye!” You say as you soon after exit “goodbye.” He says as he puts his sewing supplies away.

Floyd Leech

The worst tease ever

Sometime accidentally rips cosplays because of how tight he squeezes you

“Ahhh~ koebi~chan! You look so cuteeee!” He says squeezing you in a tight hug “Floyd you might rip something!” You manage to squeak out “awww no more squeezing?” Floyd pouts as he crosses his arms “not for a while floyd sorry” you say apologetically

Kalim Al-Aslim

Funds everything you do. You need wigs? He has the most high quality custom made wig for you. You need a new costume? He has every costume of the character ever just for you <33

Loves and supports everything you do financially, verbally and physically

“Aww you look amazing Y/N!!” Kalim shouts, he bought a whole load of cosplays for you to try on its been hours of trying to figure out where random attachable pieces go, seeing if they actually fit and showing off to kalim throughout the whole process he had the same smile plastered on his face the only way you could stop trying these on is if jamil intervened or you finished with all the costumes.

Jamil Viper

He’s like trey almost exactly doesn’t care that much yet again in the sweetest way possible

Only really cares if you dress up showing a little more skin

You try your best to help jamil with cooking in your favorite cosplay nonstop talking about the character “pass me the flour please” he says as he multitasks as usual he does enjoy silence but prefers much more if you have a smile on your face.

Vil Schoenheit

Finds cosplay interesting not in a bad way nor in a great way

He helps with outfits and makeup but he does get a little upset if the characters not fashionable

Overall great help and not good help at the same time

“But with that shade of pink there should be something else to draw more attention to you.” Vil says annoyed with the outfit you were wearing “well sorry but I didn’t make the character so theres not a lot I can do.” You responded sort of upset with him, you get what he’s trying to do to help but its not working “well whatever if you wish to go out like that do it.” Vil says walking away he’s only trying to help but he doesn’t get it.

Epel Felmier

He either doesn’t mind it or thinks its the coolest thing ever

He may or may not ask if you can use your cosplay skills to make him more manly looking

If you cosplay men/more masc characters he definitely watches you and takes notes on your apperence

(I have no idea what to write for epel sorry.)

Idia Shroud

Funds everything you do pt2 + couples cosplays????

So incredibly embarrassed if you do couple cosplays

Enjoys dressing you up himself

“P-please hold still Y/N…” Idia asks as he drags the brush across your face “almost done?” You ask he stops to grab something else “almost please sit still a while longer.” Idia replies focusing on your face, you loved when he offered to do your makeup just sitting still for him while he skillfully applies it though when you look in his eyes he gets flustered and messes up a little.

Malleus Diasomnia

Doesn’t understand it what so ever supports it though

Another one that likes to watch you get ready

“Child of man are you dressing up again?” Malleus asks as he enters your room only for you to hum as answer “may I watch?” He questions as he starts to walk over to you “of course malleus.” You reply as you apply your makeup skillfully, he loves watching you whether its to see whats normal or just to watch, seeing you content makes his day.

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witchersmistress · 11 months

Text

The Basement part 1

Hello my lovies!! its is time for the long awaited basement scene!! this is part two of for rainstorms and hate sex, im know there will be a few unanswered questions.

as per my usual. i do not give permission to copy my work or use my work in anyway without permission. so help me if you do, i will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Trigger Warnings: Clausterphobia, small spaces, foul language, 18+ highly reccomended.

I park on the side of the road a block away even though it’s raining, and I walk to the office , not wanting August to see the car if he’s there. When I step into the parking lot, I have to dart back into the shadows of the trees to avoid being seen. A half dozen cars sit parked in the side lot where Colt got beaten that day, and two guys with umbrellas stand outside August’s car smoking pot, if the scent in the air is any indication.

I huddle next to a tree, praying the rain will drown out the sound of my footsteps. My heart is hammering so hard I can barely make out their voices over the thudding in my ears and the patter of water on asphalt. I hold my breath as a familiar little Tesla comes whipping into the lot and pulls up beside August’s car. Baron and Duke get out, slinging duffle bags over their shoulders. “Ready?” Duke calls. “Yeah,” August answers, stepping away from the Rover. I’m so excited I’m shaking. Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s forty degrees and I don’t have an umbrella. But this is it. What I’ve been waiting for. My one chance to be free, to get the last information I’ll ever have to give my puppet master. I’m not leaving until I get something real fucking good, because I’m done being Mr. D’s puppet, his eyes, his snitch. Once I get this, I’m delivering it, and I’m walking away. Forever. Whatever it takes, I’m getting in there tonight. I know better than to go through the regular channels, though. I can’t go to the Midnight Swans meeting and ask to be a recruit, like a boy might. August will throw me out on my ass. I’ll have to be sneakier than that. I watch as August unlocks a side door and holds it open, gesturing for his flock to enter. He glances around and then steps into the darkness within, pulling the door closed after him.

Only when they’re gone can I let out my breath. I wait a few minutes and then creep forward until I reach the cover of the cars. I’m pretty sure no one else is coming, but you can’t be too careful. After a stealth look around, I race through the rain to the door of the office . I’m not surprised to find it locked. A quick examination tells me this isn’t the kind of lock that can be picked with a bobby pin or credit card. No surprise there, either. I move to the window on the right side of the door, a big glass pane overlooking the lot. Inside, I can just make out a science lab from the scant light spilling in from the hall. Even those are turned low, just the security lights the office leaves on all night. I push at the window pane moving along the wall, I check each window. Each one is locked. I’m not about to give up, though.

I keep moving, checking each window of the next meeting room and the next, until at last, I find one that gives. Jackpot. I knew at least one of the cleaning crew would be too busy and distracted to check every window before leaving each day. I pull the window open, then pry the screen out with my pocket knife. Then it’s smooth sailing. I scramble in the window and drop to the floor, making sure to land on my toes to keep quiet. Then I replace the screen, close the window, and tiptoe into the office . My wet shoes squeak on the tile, so I slip them off and make my way in my socks.

There’s something spooky about the darkened, silent halls of an office , as if the ghosts of our daytime selves somehow haunt the place. I’ve walked the streets of Faulkner on my side of town a hundred times, but I’ve never felt as jumpy as walking down the empty halls of office at night. I’m fully exposed as the only person in the hall, and all the doors are closed and probably locked. If one of the Swans comes out, I’m fucked. I hurry toward the library, my heart thudding in my ears. Even the soft scuff of my socks on the floor sounds magnified, echoing through the long hall and off the wooden lockers. When I reach the library, I find it locked, too. Well, fuck. I kneel in front of the door, shake my wet hair out of my eyes, and examine the lock, relieved to find it’s not as sturdy as the one on the outside door. I give a silent thanks to Lauren, my ex who taught me how to pick locks like a regular delinquent. At least I got one good thing out of that relationship. Five minutes with the metal pick in my pocket knife, and I’m inside. I wince at the squeak when the door swings open, but at least the floor is carpeted in here, so my footsteps are silent as I sneak across the room. I’m almost to the section of the bookshelf that pulls away when it groans, light spilling out a crack along the side. I dive under the circulation desk, my heart thundering in my ears, just as the door swings open.

Fuck fuck fuck. The light falls against the wall in the direction the door opens, but enough of it makes its way to the desk that I know I’ll be fucked if someone looks this way. I hear muttering and footsteps as someone crosses the library. Holding my breath, I slowly ease myself further under the desk, out of the path of the light and into the shadows. The door rattles, and then the footsteps cross back to the basement. “It’s locked,” calls a voice that I’m pretty sure belongs to DeShaun. Then he pulls the bookshelf back into place, plunging the library into darkness. Thank fuck. I close my eyes, melting back against the wood in relief. For once, I’m going to reign in my habit of bludgeoning my way through life and have patience. If I charge into the middle of the meeting, they’ll probably never let me in as a member. If I wait until they leave, I can sneak down there and get a good look around, maybe find some clues about what they’re up to. The one time August went down there with me and then freaked out, he left through another door. Which means there’s more to the basement than the one room I’ve seen. I curl into a comfortable position with my back braced against the underside of the desk, put in my earbuds, turn on Harlow and the Honey Badgers, and settle in to wait. It’s late, but I’m too wired to worry about falling asleep.

At least an hour passes before I hear the groan of the bookcase swinging open again. I fumble my phone out of my pocket, cursing myself for keeping it on. I barely manage to shut off the music and hide the screen before voices fill the library. “The founders would roll in their graves if we let a girl in,” DeShaun says. “Even if it’s not in the rules.” My heart flips. Are they talking about letting me join? “Not her, though,” August says. “She’s a Darling. She’s practically a legacy.” So, not me. Mabel? Did she complete the challenges? Maybe it’s time I paid Colt a visit. If he won’t tell me how to join, maybe he’ll at least tell me how to get in touch with Mabel. She’s a girl. She might be more inclined to help another girl get in. “If you really want to piss them off, pick someone they’d hate to see join,” says another voice that sounds familiar, but I’m not sure if it’s Cotton or Dawson or another one of their friends. I wait for August to say my name, to put me forward as someone the Swans’ founders would hate to join their exclusive, fancy boys club. If his goal is to piss off the old snobs, who better than a poor girl from a trailer park? I’m the furthest a person can get from being a Swan.

“Should I record the minutes and lock up?” Baron asks. “Mabel already completed the challenges,” Duke says. “She’s like an honorary Swan already.” So, I was right. Next task might be tracking down a Darling. “By accident,” Baron says, and I hear the bookshelf grind back into place. “She wasn’t completing them for us.” “Besides, she’d never take the oath,” August says. I’m ready to scream in frustration when they step out of the library, closing me off from the rest of the conversation. I’m tempted to follow them instead of going down in the musty old basement to root around and try to find clues. This is a live meeting, happening right now. But there’s no way I could trail them down the hall without them noticing. Damn it. I wait a minute to make sure everyone’s out, a sense of defeat already heavy inside me. I wanted to hear that conversation. Still, I’m here to get info for Mr. D, not to eavesdrop to see if anyone’s talking about me behind my back. I focus on the task ahead and creep to the bookshelf. The lock is an old fashioned one I’ve never encountered before, but when I tug on the shelf, it gives way.

About fucking time I caught a lucky break. Baron was too distracted by Mabel's talk and didn’t lock the door. I push my feet back into my damp boots and slip through, pulling the door closed behind me so no one will notice anything amiss. The light in the basement is still on, since apparently no one at this office realizes electricity is something people have to pay for. I make my way down the stairs and glance around. Instead of just a couple chairs pulled off to the side, six chairs sit around a low table cluttered with beer bottles in the middle of the room, confirming my suspicion that there must be more rooms down here. Still, the extra furniture isn’t exactly something Mr. D can use. I cross the room, scan the bookshelf for anything noteworthy, and then try the door next to the shelves. That one’s locked, but it’s a newer lock, and it only takes me a few minutes to pick it. The lights are out in this room, so I switch on my phone’s flashlight and glance around. The room is even creepier than the first one, which has a cement floor and a bare bulb overhead. This one has a dirt floor and crude stone walls with cobwebs in the corners. In the middle of the room is a huge stone that might be a table or a slab where they sacrifice people. It’s hard to tell. On the far side of the room is an open door that leads to a dark, dirt tunnel. And that’s where my journey ends. Not about to voluntarily step into something that looks like a nightmare waiting to happen.

I backtrack into the first room, thinking how ironic that this room feels safe in comparison to the other one, even though this is the room where the Walkers stripped me and forced me to suck August’s dick. I shake the thought away and circle the room, checking the bottom of the table and chairs for secret envelopes. Nothing. Fuck. Returning to the bookshelf, I scan through again, this time more thoroughly. My gaze stops on a fancy spine that’s at least two inches wide, with gold leaf printing but no title. I hook my finger on the top and pull it out, hearing a hollow thud inside. My pulse skips, and I flip it onto one side, feeling along the edge of the cover until I find a small clasp. I undo it and pull open the cover to reveal the hollow inside. Inside the box that’s cleverly disguised as a book lies another book, this one black leather, with bent corners and worn edges. I lift it out, my fingers shaking. The pages are thin and yellowed, with lines of handwritten text bleeding into the paper with age. I sit down at the table and flip to the beginning. On the first page in neat, old-fashioned cursive handwriting, are the words The Midnight Swans.

I can hardly believe my eyes. This is everything I’ve been looking for, everything I need.. It’s been here all along, right under the office I’ve been attending for months. I flip through pages of names and dates, recognizing half the names on the first page—Darling, Rose, Montgomery, Delacroix. All old money families, founders of the town, with various things named after them, from roads, bridges, and creeks to hospital wings, elementary offices, and businesses. Beyond the member lists, I find the oath written out in faded ink, and then a section called “Recruits.” My heart hammers as I read the slanted lines of cursive.

A Swan is STRONG

A Swan is BRAVE

A Swan is LOYAL Till the grave.

Each pledge is put To these three tests:

To weed the weak and keep the best.

To show your STRENGTH To show your might

You’ll face a Swan and win the fight.

A show of LOYALTY To move on

Betray a friend For a Swan.

The last virtue is test number three

Face your fear To prove your BRAVERY.

So, those are the three challenges the Silver Swan mentioned. When I asked to join, August really did give me the first task—fight a Swan and win. And in a way, I did. I showed more cunning than strength, but hey, I completed the challenge. Maybe he did bring it up, and that’s why they were talking about letting a girl join. The next page is all about brotherhood, including a line about “a bond forged by a shameful act” that no one else knows about. It kinda creeps me out, but as far as I can tell, that’s the only mention of the gauntlet, as the next page has a list of rules. I skim over them, as most are about secrecy, and then read the code of conduct, which makes it sound like the Swans were once upstanding role models for the office instead of thugs who rule by the power of intimidation.

After that, there are pages and pages of meeting minutes. At last, I go back to the beginning and pull out my phone. I curse myself for listening to music, as the battery is on red already, and considering the stamina of my ancient phone, I’m not sure it’s going to last through photographing every page. I start with the most important ones, which are the minutes from the meetings since the Walkers took over. Since I don’t have time to read them all to find exactly when the olds were kicked out, I find a date about two years ago and work my way forward. I’m halfway through when the light overhead blinks out. I jerk upright, my breath catching in my throat. Is someone in the room with me? No, that’s impossible. I would have heard them going for the light switch. Wouldn’t I? I swallow hard, trying not to panic. This isn’t a small space. It’s underground, and yes, nightmares of being buried alive or the roof caving in are already flying through my head, but I force myself to breathe. My phone hasn’t died. I can find my way up the stairs and get the fuck out. Forcing myself to stay calm, I close the book and grope around, knocking a beer bottle off the table before I find the book box to hide the real book. Whatever. Who’s going to notice a broken bottle?

I secure the Midnight Swans book and use the light from my phone’s screen to find my way to the shelf and replace it. Just as I set it back where it belongs, a shrill whistle echoes from overhead, muffled by the ceiling. It drones on in repeat, the familiar sound of a tornado siren. What the fuck is going on? Did the rain outside turn into a crazy storm? Or did someone set off that alarm on purpose? My mind flashes to that slab of stone in the other room. Maybe my offhand thought about it being for human sacrifices isn’t so far off, because if they somehow know what I’ve been doing, they’ll fucking kill me. I didn’t even look for hidden cameras. One thing’s for fucking sure. It’s time to bail. I ran for the stairs, hoping they only tripped some alarm and didn’t decide to have a little fun burning down the office for their latest shenanigan. Racing up the stairs, I grip my dying phone in one hand, determination keeping me going. When I reach the top of the stairs, I throw my shoulder against the door like I’m escaping a bunch of psychos who just made me blow their leader on my knees. It’s like hitting a brick. Instead of flying open, the door holds fast. Right. I closed it. I take a breath, trying to calm my irrational fears, and grab the door handle. It doesn’t give.

Fuck fuck fuck! I rattle it frantically, as if I’ve somehow forgotten how a door works, as if I’ll find it magically unlocked. Modern locks are one thing, but I’ve never picked something like this, and any second now, I’m going to be doing it in the dark. I shut off my phone’s screen and take a few deep breaths. Panicking is not going to fix anything. I take out my pocket knife and find the pick by touch. Picking a lock doesn’t require seeing what you’re doing, anyway. It’s all about feeling what you’re doing, and I’m perfectly capable of that. I slide it into the lock and stark poking around, trying to find the locking mechanism. That’s when I hear a scuffling noise somewhere below me. I freeze, my blood running cold. “Did you hear that?” asks a familiar, Britished-accented voice. “There must be a mouse down here.” “Or maybe a rat,” answers another, similar voice. A second later, a flashlight beam falls on me. I cringe instinctually, too caught up in my fear to play it cool and act tough. “See?” Baron says. “A rat.” “Whatcha doing there, Jailbird?” Duke asks, a taunt in his voice. “Leaving so soon?”

It takes me a few seconds to get my wits back and put on my game face. Then I straighten on my knees and pull the pick from the lock. “Whatever you think you’re going to do to me, don’t even,” I say. “I’m getting the fuck out of here.” “Are you, though?” Baron asks. “You have the key,” I say. “Unlock the door.” “Yeah, except I don’t have the key.” “Bullshit,” I say, making my way down the stairs despite the blinding glare of his cellphone’s flashlight in my eyes. “You told August you’d lock up.” No point in pretending I wasn’t hiding and spying on them. I’m already caught. He shrugs. “I gave it to August.” “Why would August lock us in here?” Our eyes meet, and Baron’s are alight with curiosity.

“That’s a good question,” Duke says. “He knew we were down here. Why would he lock us in?” “Maybe he also knew she was down here,” Baron says. “And he wants us to have our fun with her,” Duke says, a smile breaking over his face. I can barely make out his bleary gaze in the dark, but his voice gives away how drunk he is. Great. I’m locked in a basement with my least favorite version of Duke, the obnoxious drunk one, and Baron, who’s still a mystery to me, and not the fun kind. Duke steps toward me, but I raise my fists. “Touch me, and I’ll rip your dick off with my bare hands.” “Now, that’s not a very nice thing to say to the guy you’re trying to seduce.” “Let me out,” I say, pointing to the door at the top of the stairs. “There’s another door,” Baron says, not moving from where he stands. There’s a calculated stillness about him, like a snake that might strike at any moment. “You have to crawl a bit, but you’ll get there.” “And be stuck in a tunnel when you attack me?” I ask with a scoff. “No thanks.” “My brother tells me you want to be a Swan,” Baron says, cocking his head. “How badly do you want it?”

“What?” I ask, my heart beating hard. I sense a trap, and I have zero interest in falling into it. “Face your fears,” he says. “That’s one of the challenges.” I roll my eyes. “You think you’re what I fear most?” “Are we?” he asks. “No.” These boys could hurt me physically, but I’ve been hurt plenty of times at the Slaughter Pen. August is the only one of them who could truly hurt me, the only one I fear. August could make me do the one thing I fear most in the world—lose myself. But I’m not going to tell these boys that. We stare at each other for a long moment. Then Duke slings his bag off his shoulder and opens it, pulling out a bottle of beer. “Well, looks like we’re having a sleepover,” he says. “Drink up, baby. You’ll need something to take the edge off. We’ll be taking turns with your ass all night.” “Don’t count on it.” “You know, it doesn’t matter what you say,” Duke says. “We can tell August we fucked you, and he’ll believe us. He won’t even question it. You’re done with our boy. You might as well have some fun with us now.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Why?”

.“Why what?” Baron asks. “Why don’t you want me with August?” “You’re not good for him,” Baron says. “You need to go. August may have many fine qualities, but forgiveness isn’t one of them.” “So you’re going to tell him I fucked you, and make him dump me?” “Now she gets it,” Duke says. “It doesn’t matter if you do it or not. As long as he believes it, it might as well be true.” He takes a swig of beer and stumbles, dropping his phone with a clatter on the concrete floor. He swears and swipes at it twice before snagging it. Straightening, he sways on his feet. I can take his drunk ass in a second. His reflexes are shit right now. Baron’s the one I’m worried about. “The tunnel leads out of here?” I ask. “Yeah,” Baron says. “If the door at the other end is unlocked.” “You just came from that way,” I say. “Is it locked?” He shrugs. “I don’t remember. Duke?” Duke lets out a drunken giggle. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I know I want some action, though. Harper, get over here and ride me. I’ve been waiting to bust in that juicy pussy for months.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I say. “That’s the only action you’ll be getting tonight.” He laughs and downs half the beer in one long gulp, then belches loudly. “I’d rather fuck your face,” he says. “Baron, you want her ass? I bet August hasn’t loosened it up too much yet.” “I think I’ll brave the tunnel collapsing after all,” I say, heading for the other door. “Can’t be worse than suffering in the company of this drunk asshole.” “Hey, you know what’s a fun game for everyone?” Duke asks, his eyes lighting up behind their glassy shine. “We’ll turn off the lights and take turns licking your pussy, and whoever does it better gets to fuck you first.” “Do you ever think about anything besides your dick?” “Sometimes I think about your pussy,” he says, swaying forward and back. “Especially when I’m jerking off in the shower. That’s when I picture my balls slapping that wet, pink pussy and my cum filling it up, giving you a nice juicy creampie.” “Yeah, my disgust for you outweighs my fear of tight spaces,” I say. “I’m going to check out the tunnel. If the door’s locked, I might just dig my way out.” “Have fun,” Baron says, pulling a sucker from his pocket. “Hope your flashlight doesn’t die.”

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill thirst #august walker imagines #august walker fanfic #august walker #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill x you #henry cavill #henrycavill smut

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lostmyremembrall · 1 year

Note

congratulations on 1K! you definitely deserve it! I absolutely adore your characterization for tom, and am always so excited whenever you post!

I would love to join the event if it's still going on! could i request the diadem (👑)? my name’s jennifer, im a slytherin, and i grew up with tom at wools orphanage. im physically affectionate, love to read and explore, and i like to joke around, lightly flirt with, and tease people. i normally keep most people at arms length though, so its rare for me to become close to anyone. when i truly care for someone though, i love to spoil them and spend time with them. i normally seem unapproachable, but im actually pretty friendly. im sure that after enough time has passed, id have fallen for tom, but i don't think he'd be interested, so im sure id bottle it up inside of me.

sorry if thats too detailed! i got carried away thinking about it! would it be possible to do tom riddle era (1930's - 1940's)?

once again, thank you for the fun event, and i hope you enjoy writing for our lord and savior tom riddle as much as we all enjoy reading your stories! 💚

👑𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝓙𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓮𝓻

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! As I was writing this, I kept thinking how perfect of a pair you and Tom would make! But alas, you've asked for a diadem so I'll stick to your storyline of unrequited love.

I am sorry this took so long, and I appreciate your patience! I'm also sorry that this got rly long. I feel like it ended up being more like a fanfic rather than an HC. If you're not happy with it, or feel like this character isn't really you (especially the decision you make to forgive Tom at the end), feel free to DM and I'll redo it!

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed

𝐎𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

You were born the same year as Tom. With Tom's birthday being the last day of the year, you are always older than him, a fact Tom's not particularly fond of.

It took a long time for Tom to come around, but he had plenty of time to observe you and understand you as a person before approaching you for an alliance.

Needless to say, surviving an orphanage in the 1920s brought you and Tom close.

You two had to stick together in these hard times if it meant surviving your childhood. The malnutrition. Cholera. Tuberculosis. The flu. There were plenty of opportunities for either of you to die.

When the two of you were being scolded by Mrs. Cole, you two would hold hands together in solidarity.

Even with your eyes turned to the floor, you knew Tom was next to you, going through the same thing. And that was comfort enough for the two of you.

That meant if either had a chance to steal some food from the local vendors, you were sharing it.

One time, Tom managed to steal a candy bar called 'Milky Way' from America.

As malnourished children, the two of you ate that up in minutes.

It's one of your fond memories, hiding in the alleyway after school as the two lick your fingers clean.

Tom knew you were loyal, a trait he most appreciated about you. He knew that whatever he did to other orphans, you weren't going to rat on the Matron.

Tom displayed his magic first, and of course, he showed it to you and you only.

When you displayed your magic, he was disappointed at first, that he wasn't the special one.

But, as soon as he realised that his magic was superior to yours (and everyone's, the nerve of him), he grew to appreciate that he can share this with his closest friend.

It felt like winning the lottery when you both got the visit from Dumbledore.

The world was your oyster, free to explore and take to your content with Tom.

Visiting Diagon Alley together, and shopping for Hogwarts as you two experienced everything new, is also one of your cherished memories.

A sense of solidarity brought you two even closer, to challenge and learn about the new world together. You two were literally inseparable.

A lot of your time is spent with Tom, exploring the wizarding world, whether through books or in real life.

After spending your first night in the Slytherin dorm, you and Tom met up to discuss. You both agreed that, in order to survive this pureblood frenzied house, it would be wise not to disclose about the muggle orphanage you two grew up in.

𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬

You are an excellent student, always learning and reading.

Professors do notice your teasing remarks in class when someone embarrasses themselves. But, some professors enjoy your comments and are more lenient than others as long as it's not too disruptive.

You're quite good at Care for Magical Creatures.

After having to take care of some creatures during class, some of these beasts really grew on you.

You spoil them by stealing some food from the kitchen or the Great Hall, giving them a taste of "real food" as you say.

In the later years, when you and Tom stopped sneaking into the kitchen, this comforted you and replicated the endearing memories of sharing food with Tom.

Being the high-achieving Slytherin that you are with the actual ability and interest in classes, you easily make it to prefect.

Dumbledore is somewhat cautious of you, suspecting that you might be enabling Tom.

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

You may be intimidating at first, but you end up being quite popular as people figure out that you're friendly and kind, unlike some of the Slytherins.

Your jokes and teases are funny, and everyone knows it's always a fun time when you're involved.

Others may think they know you quite well.

But, you know that they don't know the real you. You wouldn't call them your close friends.

Really, the only person that would fit that category is Tom, who's practically known you for your entire life.

With your fun, flirty nature and teases, some people turn bright red, not used to the direct advances. And they love that. They love your attention and tease.

Needless to say, you get quite a few letters from secret admirers.

(𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝) 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦

The first few years felt just like before with Tom, just in a different environment.

Sneaking out of the dorm at night to explore the castle.

Stealing some late-night dessert from the kitchen to eat on top of the Astronomy Tower, enjoying the sugar that is definitely a luxury back home.

Sneaking into the Forbidden Forest. Exploring Hogsmeade.

Only Tom got your special attention. You would spoil him with your time and love and gifts.

Tom was the same. He truly cared for you and you only, and he expressed his appreciation for you in a similar way.

Before you go to sleep, you'd find a small box, hidden underneath your pillow.

However Tom got into the girl's dorm will remain a mystery.

Sometimes, they're notes detailing the earnest feelings he couldn't confide to anyone else. His anxiety. His fears. His joy.

Oftentimes, they're expensive jewellery, maybe purchased, maybe stolen.

"The prettiest jewellery for the prettiest girl I know"

The note would say in a childish attempt at being suave.

But, starting 4th year, things began to feel different. He's grown tall. His intellectual eyes always looking straight ahead. His sharp cheekbones and jawlines signalling his approaching adulthood.

You began to feel a flutter in your heart every time he caught your eyes in class.

At the same time, you noticed a change in Tom as well. You couldn't quite place it, but it felt like he was growing out of your reach.

Like you weren't just two kids that goof around anymore.

Some would say that's only natural as children begin to recognise the changes and differences between the genders. But, you felt like there was something more than just that.

He would spend hours in the library, researching something.

It no longer seemed like having fun exploring with you was the priority for Tom, as he focused on his studies and his achievements.

His talents were unheard of, and you felt the bitterness that he was going to places you cannot follow.

He would still hang out with you, though it was no longer just you he hung out with. Abraxas Malfoy, Lestrange, Avery, and a few other Slytherins began taking up Tom's time.

It seemed like they were meeting late at night without you. When you inquired Tom about it, he merely chuckled,

He'd lift your chin up with his fingers with a smirk

"Wouldn't want to join some vulgar conversation of teenage boys, do you?"

You'd freeze under his teasing gaze. Who wouldn't?

Taking your silence as a cue for agreement, Tom would run his thumb over your cheeks.

"Now, smile - for me."

Countless times you've thought about telling him, writing to him about how you felt about him.

But, you'd see his large shoulders, hunched over the table as he focused on assignments or creating new spells

And every time, you'd end up swallowing the words, knowing Tom had his mind set on things greater than romance.

It's in the late 5th year when you begin to worry about Tom's mental health.

One night, he comes bursting into your room. Agitated, he is pacing back and forth in front of you.

He knows your loyalty, so he knew he could only come to you to open up about the murder he's just committed.

It finally dawns on you what had been distancing you from Tom this whole time.

It was his hidden obsession with his family line, the Dark Arts, his rage and vengeance: all of the things Tom had kept from you this whole time.

You place a comforting hand on his trembling cheeks as he looks up to you with teary eyes, almost pleading silently, as if begging for your forgiveness. Your acceptance.

As you look into his eyes, his face line still retaining a bit of that youthful innocence, you'd wonder 'where it all went wrong.'

Where did your Tom go? That endearing boy who would steal candy bars for you. That kind, protective boy who would gift you jewellery, calling you his 'one and only.'

You seriously pondered, whether you recognised the Tom in front of you. Whether you were ready to forgive him.

But still, you couldn't get the image of his kind smile out of your mind. The way he used to smile before it all went to shit.

His soft lips curved in a similar way, still. His eyes still shimmered innocently, still.

In the end, you made him promise not to delve into Dark Arts again. It ends here.

And that he'll come to you whenever his rage and vengeance overtook him.

Tom flashed the most beautiful smile up at you. A tear pouring out in relief.

He took your hands and hastily pressed his lips to it, causing you to feel a clenching pang in your heart.

"I promise, Jennifer," he said with a smile. "I won't let you down."

We all know that Tom wouldn't keep his promise.

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