#keep the pressure - on the off chance that even one or two of them cares
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A/N: I’m finally back with this story again! I’m hoping that I can get it wrapped up before July, but no promises.
***
In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 32
Despite the specter of Monica hanging over them, they had a good night. Caleb contributed significantly to keeping the mood light. He was delighted to have uninterrupted time with Kensi and made use of the opportunity. After dinner, he showed Kensi all his new books, as promised, even reading two all by himself.
Kensi seemed just as excited by his reading as Deeks, even though she got to seem him practice his skills every day. He’d come to love these moments of quiet simplicity. There wasn’t any pressure on any of them to be anything but themselves.
He watched Kensi help Caleb decode a difficult word, and he glanced up, seeking Deeks’ gaze, his approval with a wide grin. Deeks grinned back, reaching over to smooth an unruly curl down. It instantly sprung back up. Just like it always did.
“That’s one of the biggest, hardest words I’ve ever read!” Caleb exclaimed.
“I know, kiddo. I’m so proud of how hard you’ve worked on your reading,” Deeks said wholeheartedly.
“Me too,” Kensi agreed. “You’ve made so much progress these last few months.”
This alone was enough to convince that he needed to have a serious conversation with Monica. Up to this point, he’d held back for Caleb’s sake, and maybe because despite it all, he still felt some tiny bit of compassion for her. All that had gotten him was Monica pushing as many boundaries as she could.
He was done. He wouldn’t put his relationship with Kensi in jeopardy. Not anymore.
They spent another half an hour playing and talking before it was Caleb’s bedtime. Kensi decided to leave then, and he briefly imagined a time when she’d stay for a bedtime story and the good nights. He didn’t let his imagination drift too far with that daydream, but it was on his mind as he kissed Kensi goodbye at the door, lingering for a few extra seconds even though they’d both said their goodbyes already.
Once Kensi left, he ran the normal nighttime routine with Caleb: bath, teeth brushing, talking over the day, before a final book—this time read by Deeks. He made sure Caleb was fully asleep before he crept out and headed for the patio, pulling up Monica’s number on his phone.
“Hello, Marty. I did not expect to hear from you so soon,” she answered after a couple rings. “Did you miss me?”
“No. Monica, we need to talk,” he said, not taking the bait. She chucked, her voice fading for a second as though she’d turned away from the phone.
“I’m sorry, but I’m a little…occupied tonight.”
“I don’t care. After the last week, you can deal with some inconvenience. Now, we can either talk now or meet here.”
He could almost feel her debating the consequences of blowing him off for whatever plans she may or may not have. After several seconds, she sighed dramatically, the sound loud in his ear.
“Alright. I’ll be over in half an hour.”
***
Deeks was waiting in the driveway, leaning against his truck, when Monica pulled up to the curb in a black car. He didn’t want to chance Caleb hearing the conversation they were about to have if he happened to wake up.
Monica raised an eyebrow at his position as she approached, but didn’t comment. Uncrossing his legs, Deeks straightened, meeting her at the halfway point.
“This is cozy,” she joked, mimicking his posture. “So, what is so important that you pulled me away from what promises to be a very nice date?”
“Did you question Kensi about our relationship?” he asked bluntly. Monica didn’t show any sign of guilt or embarrassment, her expression blanking for a second before she laughed throatily.
“Oh, so the teacher went and tattled. I was 50/50 on which way she’d go. You know, she’s spunky. I like that—”
“On my god, Monica, stop. This isn’t a game. What were you thinking asking Kensi’s those questions?”
She shrugged flippantly. “Like I told her, I’m just looking out for you. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“That is not your job or your business. How many times do I have to tell you that you no longer have a say in my personal life before you get it? That ended when you divorced me,” Deeks reminded her.
“That may be true, but she’s also in Caleb’s life. And I’m still his mother,” she shot back, taunting him. “I still have a say in his life. Especially when it comes to such big changes.”
“No, you don’t. Not anymore. You’re the one who terminated your parental rights. If you want visitations we can get lawyers to work out an agreement, but this cannot go on. You don’t get to walk back in whenever you want and make demands. I won’t let you do this to us anymore.”
“I thought we didn’t need a contract,” Monica said, reminding him of his own words from a time when he was younger and far more naive.
“I thought so too, until you started interfering in our lives. It’s not fair to either Caleb or me to have you just showing up without warning and expect us to drop everything.”
“A mother should be allowed to see her son.”
That pushed him over the edge. He’d tried to remain polite and in control, but everything that he’s kept back since she left came pouring out.
“Oh don’t give me that crap, Monica. You abandoned him. That’s what it’s called when you leave a child without any warning or way of contacting you,” he snapped, inhaling deeply to regain even a tiny bit of control. He didn’t need the neighbors hearing the entire conversation. “Look, I have tried so hard to move on and not be bitter about any of this.”
He drew his hand through the air to encompass the last five years. “I know people change, sometimes what they thought they wanted doesn’t make them happy anymore, and-and I accept that, but the way you left destroyed both of us when you left. Monica, you didn’t even give me any warning. It took me so long to begin trusting another person, for Caleb to stop asking when you were coming home, and now that we’ve finally found peace and happiness, you come in like some kind of wrecking ball.”
Monica shifted from one foot to the other, and opened her mouth like she was about to defend herself, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.
“I don’t want to hear whatever excuse you’re going to come up with. You’ve manipulated our son, questioned my girlfriend, and violated my privacy.” He shook his head, licking his bottom lip. “There’s, uh, there’s no excuse for any of that. I wouldn’t believe it anyway at this point.”
Her face fell slightly at the last part, but he refuses to feel any guilt. She shifted from one foot to the other, looking down with her lips pursed, then lifted her chin.
“So, what exactly do you want if it’s not an apology?” she asked.
“We agree to put parameters on your visitation and parental rights,” he responded. “I’m going to get a lawyer. I suggest you do to.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect my family.” He let that hang in the night air for a few seconds, then nodded. “Have a good rest of your night, Monica.” He didn’t wait for a reply, heading for the front door again.
***
A/N: I know this is a little heavier and dramatic than most of this story. I hope that’s ok. Monica’s just one of those people who doesn’t know when to stop.
#ncis la fanfiction#marty deeks#kensi blye#Caleb Deeks#lawyer Deeks#teacher Kensi#self indulgent author#drama#in Miss Blye’s Class#part 32#au#ejzah fanfiction
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dan and phil raising over 80K for PCRF in ONE STREAM? kings i'm so sorry if i ever dismissed you...
#also this is what weaponizing fandom for something that matters looks like#ik it's futile to expect your rich and famous faves to do something for you but#keep the pressure - on the off chance that even one or two of them cares#or even just wants to stave off the pressure (looking at critrole)#the money that comes from it is nothing to sneeze at - especially with govs cutting off their funding.
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On Your Knees
ONE | TWO
incel!Seungmin x fem!reader
warnings! MDNI18+, drinking implications (no one is drunk) dubious??, pussy eating, face fucking (m!), hate sex (but no sex) seungmin is an ass (low key misogynistic), reader is kinda mean
note! this is not meant to represent Seungmin or any of the members in any way. I just like the trope :)
2.7k words
The party was getting boring in all honesty. Truth-or-Dare is only fun for the first couple of minutes but gets repetitive. Same old questions on who you're fucking, if you're fucking someone, if you've ever fucked someone. The flat beer sloshes in your red solo cup as you sit on the floor of the living room.
You can tell Han is trying to come up with something interesting to ask Seungmin. Most of the somewhat funny questions were already asked, but Han still purses his lips as he thinks of something clever.
"Okay, I got it!" He claps his hands. "Best pussy you've ever eaten. Go."
Ah, I guess that's something, you think as you divert your attention to the cross-legged man beside you.
Seungmin is awfully quiet at house parties and looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. You don't like Seungmin, but you don't not like him. He's just a guy Han likes to bring around on occasion. You observe Seungmin raise an eyebrow, in surprise most likely. But what he says is even more shocking.
"Never eaten pussy."
"What?!" Everyone collectively shouts at his admission. Now this peaks your interest as you stare wide-eyed at him. "No way," you can't fathom the thought of someone in college never tasting a cunt. "Are you a virgin?"
Your bold question makes Chan choke on his drink, coughing until the bitter liquid finally passes through. "Jeez dude, you just can't ask that."
"It's literally Truth-or-Dare. I literally can," you retort.
The clamor of everyone settles as they wait for Seungmin to answer. Now that he can feel the pressure of everyone's eyes, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm not a virgin," he says. "I just don't eat pussy."
"What the fuck?" You make a confused expression. "You don't eat pussy? Fuck does that mean?" Seungmin finally casts his gaze on you, acknowledging your presence for the first time tonight. "Exactly what I mean. I don't like it."
"You don't like it?" Han sounds exasperated. "You gotta be fucking with me. There's no way you fuck a girl and not want to eat her pussy." Despite Han being an idiot half the time, you agree with him. Every guy you've hooked up with jumps at the chance to eat you out and you know plenty of them would do it for nothing in exchange.
To meet a guy who's never had the opportunity to only means two things, and you're praying it's not what you're thinking.
"I just fuck to cum. I don't really care if she finishes or not."
It's worse than you could have imagined.
The room goes dead quiet and you suddenly figure out why Han doesn't bring Seungmin around too often. His stiff posture, his blank expression, the way he hardly regards you in any manner. It all points to signs of the worst type of man.
"So like what?" You can't help the clipped tone in your voice. "You some type of incel?"
Chan, who likes to keep the peace, says your name in warning. "Don't start." Though he means well, the fact that you're the one getting in trouble for speaking up only fuels your fire. "Don't start? He's the one who started with his dumb incel shit."
Seungmin scowls, "Ugh. I didn't even say anything bad. You're being so emotional."
The tips of your ears burn red and you feel your entire body heat up. You can hear Chan trying to diffuse the situation, but you hardly care about maintaining 'the peace' any longer.
"Oh, fuck off," you sneer at Seungmin. "You can't even make a girl finish. Fucking incel virgin."
Now that does it for him. You see Seungmin tighten his hands into fists as his neck grows red. "I'm not a virgin. And I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to." He enunciates his words harshly, some speckles of spit landing on your face. Both of your jaws are tense, teeth clenching as you glare into each other's eyes.
A vein sticks from his neck and his lips are stretched back into somewhat of a snarl. With a flushed expression, you easily see his cheeks heat up in anger. It's here that you realize he looks good when he's mad. You hate it.
"Okaayyy!" Chan claps his hands three times loudly. "I think it's time to call it a night." Everyone tries to stand and talk about anything else, but Seungmin and you are too busy having your own little conversation to notice.
"Never eaten pussy, can't make a girl come. Why you lying about being a virgin?" You mimic the vicious on Seungmin's face. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, "Whoring yourself out for a fuck. You're everything that's wrong with women today."
This makes you laugh, "At least they make me cum."
If you thought Seungmin was mad before, he's furious now. You must have struck a nerve because he stands suddenly and spins on his heel to leave.
But you're not done with the conversation. You raise on your feet and follow him, never ceasing to stop your vicious spewing, "Just be honest with me, Min. It's okay to have never felt a woman's touch. Not that you ever will, being an incel that is."
Seungmin hurries up the stairs of the house with you on his tail. You can't see his face, but you can feel the anger rolling off him.
He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you effectively bump into his back. "I'm not an incel," he keeps his voice low, but strong. "Eating pussy isn't even all that. You just have an ego bigger than your tits."
You try and play it off with a scoff, but you feel your face heat up. You grope your chest offendedly; you like your boobs. "Not all that? Come here." Pushing on Seungmin's back, you lead him to the nearby bathroom and shove him inside. He stumbles and trips over his feet, shooting a hand out to balance himself on the counter as you close and lock the door behind you.
"Fuck was that for?" He whips his head around to glare at you, but he's surprised to be met with an eerie smile on your face instead. He gulps nervously, "What are you looking at?"
You shrug nonchalantly, "Looking at someone who's going to eat me out." Seungmin looks as though you've slapped him across the face as his eyes widen. "What? Who said I was gonna do that?"
You're already hiking your skirt up to your torso, biting the cloth between your teeth, and showing the pretty little thong you put on in hopes of a hookup. It barely manages to over your clit and you can see the outline of your pussy underneath the material. With one hand, you use the tip of your finger to draw soft circles on it. Seungmin drops his eyes to your clothed core.
His Adam apple bobs.
"Come on," you wiggle your eyebrows playfully. "Get on your knees for me."
For a second, you think he's gonna walk out. He was so persistent about not wanting to eat pussy and his shitty attitude was...well...shitty. You begin to think that there's no hope for Seungmin, but he proves you wrong by bending one knee and looking up at you.
"I'm just going to look," he says more to himself than to you. "Just so you could stop your whining."
His hands grip the plushness of your thighs as he stretches the skin. The lips of your pussy peek out at the movement, but Seungmin is far from disgusted. His ears pick up on the sound your cunt makes when he uses his thumb to pull and push the skin together. Slowly, he moves his hand up to pull your thong down, exposing the very thing he claims to revolt against.
You shiver against his warm breath, his warm touch. You reach your hands down to pull up on the skin of your pelvis to further stretch your pussy. "Getting a good look, Seungmin?" You giggle at the annoyed expression on his face. His lips may be pulled pursed into a frown, but his eyes are wide with lust.
Seungmin is trying his best to hold back, but it's near impossible. Everything about you surrounds him: your smell, your soft skin, the way your voice echoes in the bathroom. He shocks himself with how much he enjoys watching your clit peek from your pussy lips and how the first signs of arousal make your entire cunt shine.
"Shut up," he mumbles.
You're thinking of a witty remark to snap at him, but you're instead pleasantly surprised with his lips ghosting over your core. Your body stills, letting Seungmin explore pussy on his tongue for the first time. He runs his lips over your own, feeling how soft and warm it is. Seungmin already knew how hot a cunt is, but tasting it on his lips is a whole other level of heat.
"Mmm," you hum at the sensation. "What happened to just getting a look?"
Seungmin looks up at you, mouth still attached to your core. His nose bumps on your lower stomach with his hair tousled over his face. Before you can think, you brush the bangs from his face to get a good view of his form. The sight makes you groan, bucking your hips further into his face. Seungmin makes a hmmf! sound as you bury his face deeper into your pussy, but he makes no move to deny you.
It's not until you start rocking your hips that he finally sticks his tongue out. He starts at the peak of your pussy, letting the nub roll over his tongue experimentally. Seungmin notes how your legs shake when he does that. He feels your hips still so he could properly suck on that part of your cunt.
The taste of you settles on Seungmin's tastebuds and he finds his tongue digging deeper into your lips. They dip down to your labia before going back up. He likes how soaked you make his wet tongue, how your hands twist his floppy hair to drive him deeper. He hates how much he likes it.
Truthfully, you're in the same boat. His mouth may not be experienced, but you upsettingly like how he lets you ride his face. "See Sungie?" You say his name mockingly. "Not too bad, is it?"
Seungmin doesn't stay put in your cunt. This time, he pulls away from your throbbing core to talk back. "I never said it was goo- mmf!" As lovely as it would have been to hear his voice, you reason that his words may not have been as nice. You had gripped the back of his head and forced him back to your center, uncaring how he gently slapped the back of your thighs in disapproval.
"Just shut up and stick your tongue out." You're impatient needless to say. Seungmin can tell by how you keep one hand steady on his head while the other gives his cheek light taps. "Open up, come on." You probe the man between your legs until he finally relents, widening his jaw so your entire clit fits in his mouth.
You hum at his mouth taking your core in, "Good boy. See? You were made to eat pussy."
Then you hook one of your thighs over his shoulder and wrap that leg around his body until his face is pushed against you. His eyes widen, screaming at you as if saying this wasn't part of the deal! But the panic only makes you laugh. He can pretend all he wants, but you know the bulge in his pants all too well as you look down on him.
Grinding on his face is easy with you in complete control. You sloppily rub your cunt all over his tongue with his head following your movements. Seungmin groans and grunts in your cunt, but it's far from the disdain he was filled with earlier. His hips thrust into the air at the feel of your essence dripping down his chin.
His jolts make you chuckle breathlessly. "Fuck, just look at you. You wanna cum? You wanna cum, don't you?"
Screw his pride, screw any stupid podcast he's watched, he needs to cum. He wants to feel your pussy clench on his cock, not his tongue. Yet, he can't find it in himself to tear himself away from your clit. If you taste this good already, he can't imagine the savor of you creaming on his tongue.
To not let a second go by without his mouth on you, he nods, looking up at you pleadingly. He's sorry for being a dick, for being an incel. If you let him finish in you, he'll never-
"Sucks to suck," you shatter his dream. "You're gonna make me cum. Don't move."
And he doesn't, but it's not because he means to obey you. You have Seungmin on his knees, mouth enclosing over your pussy while you tug on his hair and hump his face and you're not going to let him finish? At all?
Then there's no point of him being here. Seungmin should tear your grip off him and leave the bathroom, but he can't. Fuck, he can't. It's like you've put a curse on him, glued him to the floor with his jaw unhinged and tongue out as you grind on his face.
It has to be witchcraft because why else would he still be here? Does he really like the taste of you that much? Maybe it's how you look; flushed, sweaty, close to a high Seungmin's never been able to bring a girl to. Seeing you so close to your orgasm makes him eager to stay, eager to please. And god, he loves how your clit twitches in his mouth.
"Shit," you curse. "Gonna cum. Imma cum all over your face. You want that? Want my cream all over your tongue?"
Seungmin would rather die than tell you the truth, so he responds by sucking harshly on your clit. The suction is enough to tip you over the edge, digging your nails into his scalp as you bend the upper half of your body over him.
Your cunt pluses around nothing, but that hardly matters when you hear Seungmin gulping down your release. The very same man who claims to not like eating pussy, to not care if his partner finishes. That man eagerly licking you clean with his eyes rolling behind his head.
You shiver and mewl as you cum, softly grinding your hips to come down from your high. "God- fuck! Put your tongue in my pussy."
He does, finally getting a feel of your walls for the first time. They squeeze and pulse around his tongue and he gives a few testing thrusts that you respond to positively.
Fuck, you taste even better inside.
Seungmin can't stop fucking his tongue deep inside you. Not even as you wrap your leg from him and straighten up. A part of you debates on whether or not to let him keep going. At this rate, he might make you finish a second time, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of that. Plus, you've been gone long enough for the other men to question your whereabouts.
You place the palm of your hand on his forehead and push him away. The shove makes him detach from your cunt with a lewd pop! as he catches himself backward on his hands.
"Geez. You're gonna lick it off," you pick your underwear up and step through the leg holes, ignoring how uncomfortable it feels on your sensitive cunt. Seungmin seems in a daze as you drop your skirt from your lips and adjust the material. Even as you walk closer to the mirror and touch up your make-up, Seungmin stays in place on the ground.
He liked it. Dear god, he loved it. Even with the tent in his pants, he hardly seems to notice how his cock throbs when he can still taste you on his lips. You only face-fucked him to prove a point, but you changed the trajectory of his life forever.
Yet, you wash your hands and use a hand towel to dry yourself like you didn't just make Seungmin question his entire purpose. You throw the rag to the man on his knees, managing to land it on his lap. "Your face is soaked. Clean it before they see how much of a munch you are, yeah?"
a/n: idk why I was at work was thought "yk what would be hot? making an incel seungmin worship you" and boom, this was birthed. I kinda wanna make a part two I have ideeassss
also two fics in one week?? who am I?
thank you for reading!
#smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz#stray kids#skz seungmin#seungmin x reader#stray kids seungmin#seungmin smut#seungmin#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#sub!skz#sub!stray kids#seungmin skz smut
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dave smut plsplspllslslsdss i’ll luv u forever
— forever?? 😌
‧ 𝜗ϱ WAIT WAIT REALLY ? , dave lizewski . . .（ smut ）
big dick! dave who doesn’t know what to do with it.
drabble tags nsfw content. female reader. black reader in mind but anyone can read. he’s whiny n’ slutty. unprotected. creampiiiieee. kissing. swearing.
dave believed he was average. i mean for what he’d seen on his almost daily porn scrolls, he was. he had never actually measured it like all the other boys his age as they were just curious. he never cared to, knowing a girl wouldn’t see it, ask about it or even think of seeing it. he always thought he would stay a little, invisible virgin all his life. but fortunately for him, that changed when he got a girlfriend— a pretty one too.
one with the nicest smile, lips, hair, ass and you treated him amazingly. you almost treated him too well. so much that he didn’t believe you actually liked him until you promised to prove to him after school at his house. you’d been over plenty of times before to study, listen to him ramble, have small make out sessions, watch movies, talk— he believed it was no different than any other time but he secretly hoped it would be more. he hoped every time you came over and he was almost always sadly disappointed.
but with every god on his side that afternoon, his little assumption was right. he watched you in fascination as you wrapped your hands around his cock. your eyes not even giving him a glance as you watch his cock leak pre-cum from his tip. the size of him not going unnoticed by you because of your struggle to wrap one hand around it. “didn’t know you were this big,” you mumble out with a chuckle off your tongue. “w-wait wait really?” he’d stumbled, eyebrows slightly pinched in worry that you wouldn’t like that.
i mean he’d heard woman whining and even crying about how big men are in most of the videos he’d watched. tears would run down their face as he fucked into them. hearing them whine about how they couldn’t take it but they didn’t tell him to stop oddly. maybe they liked the slightly pain he endured upon them, would you like that-his cock stretching you in euphoric pain? his head was so far up into the clouds he almost came when you wrapped your lips are his tip.
his head tasting of his salty pre-cum. you liked his salty taste— so much, that you bobbled your head onto his cock until he was squirting, whining and forgetting all about his question for you as he only thinks about wanting to cum into your warm mouth. his hand rested on your head, guiding you with only slight pressure. with the sweetest intentions, you ignore his guidance and you pull your mouth from around him. “f-fuck just a little- ah longer, baby.” his begging beginning quickly after you had stopped.
you find his lips and kiss him sweetly trying to shush him. “i’m gonna let you cum,” you mumble lightly against his lips. “i just want you to cum with me, don’t you wanna do that? cum with me.” you only hoped he’d say yes, cunt soaking through the panties you were wearing. that hadn’t been his exact thought when he said yes, it being: you riding his cock, feeling your warm cunt wrapped around him as he looks up at you in pure adoration.
“shit! shit! i- uh thought! oh my god!”
he hadn’t expected it to be this overwhelming—with your cunt squeezing, milking cock as the two of you kiss each other to keep the moans down. his hands touching your warm, soft skin around your hips, waist and ass—places he had only imagined touching. smelling how sweet you are when you lean down to kiss him on his already spit-covered lips. hearing you mumbling against them how good his cock feels in you and his cock is hitting all the right places, the sound of your wet cunt making your statement more and more believable. unfortunately, he hadn’t got to look at you much as he would shut his eyes and whine to stop from cumming too quickly.
when he did get the chance to look at you, which was rare, he would take you in like he hadn’t ever looked at you before. eyes going cloudy at the looks of you—especially when you mumble out you’re about cum. you’re cunt pulse around him as you burying your head into the crook of his neck, hips continuing to roll. he’s quick to cum along with you slurring and whining your name as he does.
2023 kausstar.
#⠀ ݁ ੭୧ ᳝ ࣪ ᭡ .ᐟ ⠀#𓂃⊹ kick-ass.#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski smut#dave lizewski#kick ass#kick ass x reader#aaron johnson smut#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson x reader
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(5) a bad decision *** | I got a bad idea series
—> masterlist
southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader
tw: SMUT MDNI, top wanda, top natasha, bottom reader, strap in v (n giving;r receiving), fingering (w giving;r receiving), grinding (w giving;r receiving), overstim, exclusive relationship but no dating title, n is packing whoops sorry yall
a/n: I’ll come back and edit later bc omg idk how this is but I hope you enjoy lmfao
Wanda held you close, a blanket strewn over the two of you to keep warm from the cold. Her attention was on another, a familiar face you recognize as a neighbor down the street from them. Your attention was on the fire in front of you, on how the flames flickered in the wind and the small pieces floating into the sky.
She had a hand propping herself up, the other laid spread out on your thigh. You would remember her placement often when she rubs her thumb across your leg, her hand inching closer towards each time.
You’re entirely too bothered by it which is why you’re trying to focus on anything else as a distraction.
A summary of that night would be, ‘hot and bothered.’ After you climbed into bed, your thoughts ran wild. This time Wanda didn’t stop at her small comforting touch. Her hand got closer, even touching where you wanted her to. Soft kisses on your chest as she grinds her hands into your heat.
It was a dream. You realize soon enough because you woke up. The only realistic element from your dreams was the feeling between your legs. You felt it wrong to take care of it, so you showered with your head on the shower wall, replaying the dream over and over. It didn’t help.
Sure, you three were exclusive. There was a chance you could ask, but the chances of that happening are extremely low. That’s because those chances are gone, you would never ask.
Not to mention, have you even asked how they’re feeling? It’s been a day since your so-called exclusive relationship, one day.
For all you know they could be against moving your relationship further, if they even found you attractive sexually. You kept it from them. Since your dream, your body burned everytime they were near.
You found yourself in a similar position to that night. Under a blanket, beside Wanda, her hand on your thigh. Only difference being you were inside, the TV on with a random old 2000s movie playing. The time spent by the campfire awoke something in you. Since then you’ve had plenty of time mulling over them, craving for anything they give.
“They have a beautiful kid, huh?”
“Oh yes I agree,” you answer, turning towards her.
“I knew you weren’t paying attention,” she grins playfully, leaning to kiss your cheek, “they don’t have a kid.”
You continue to face her after, eyes darting around her face and dropping to her lips. The moment she begins to lean in your eyes are closing shut, waiting. It’s the first one you’ve shared. She brings her hand off your leg, pulling you deeper into the kiss with a hand on your cheek.
A gasp spills from you when her tongue brushes your bottom lip. She pulls away to look at you with your lidded eyes and glossy lips. A mumbled curse sounds from her as she’s slinging you to straddle her. She brings your face down again, kissing you with more ease. This time you’re making an effort to stay quiet. Proves difficult when Wanda trails her attention down your neck, especially when her hands come to grab at the bottom of your thighs.
She’s pulling you until your chest to chest, lips finding yours again. Your minds begin to melt, feeling like you’re floating with each ounce of attention she gives you. You actually whimper into her kiss, pressure building from within you as she moves you to straddle one leg. She breathes your name, a finger tapping your face so you open your eyes.
“Do you want to go further?”
You only give her a nod, frustrating her so she playfully pinches your hip, “words, angel.”
“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”
Her hands are gentle on you as she holds your waist, guiding your hips down onto her leg. It’s all too much. Her hand teasing you a day ago, the dream you had. Now you’re hypersensitive to every touch, soaked already after kissing.
“Ride my leg,” she whispers, jerking your hips forward as an example.
You start a rhythm, taking anything that’s given to you. Head in her shoulder, looking down at where you were grinding so sensually. You keep your mouth shut to muffle your sounds, moving your hips against her with need. She brings her finger to hold your jaw, her breath tickling your ear.
“Don’t hold back.”
That time her pants rub against your clit, the pressure building after causing you moan out loud. Your heavy breathing and occasional whine driving her mind into the same space yours was heading. When you lean your head back, sounds hitting directing in her ear she’s laying you down on your back.
“Wands,” you breathe, getting cut off by the feeling of her kissing you into the couch. The pillows behind providing comfort, pushing you back against her. You bring a hand to grip at her shirt, tightening your hold the rougher she begins to kiss you. You take it all. Every touch, every kiss, every action that brings you into a floaty mindset.
“Can I,” she asks, fingers dipping under your pants. Half of her face is illuminated by the tv screen, random colors showing the deep lust in her eyes.
You mumble your confirmation, lifting your hips to help her drag your clothes off. A hand draws your hip open, spreading you open. You grow shy, scared of seeing her reaction of your body’s eager response to her touch.
When you look over, she’s looking down with a small smile, “you’re so beautiful.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” she gives you a short kiss, using it as a small distraction from her finger sliding up your heat to rub onto your clit. You pull so hard on her shirt you think you’re going to rip it. You swear you hear a ripping sound after she’s pressing her middle finger into your soaking cunt.
She moves slow, giving you time to relax and feel comfortable before she’s adding another and increasing speed. The blankets being discarded, lying half on Wanda’s back and half on the floor. It covers enough when Natasha’s opening the front door, shutting the door faster when she sees you.
You’re too far gone, shaky sounds escaping you, entirely too focused on the feeling between your legs than the presence walking near you. You only notice her when Wanda’s saying her name, greeting her normally.
You’re pulled back down onto her fingers after your attempt to get away. Mind turning numb when she thrusts her fingers in deeper. The scene was filthy. You’re a mess under her while she hold a normal conversation with Natasha.
“Your client any less annoying now? Goodnight, these people are infuriating.”
Natasha agrees, sitting herself down nearby to watch you, “what’s happened while I was gone.”
Wanda looks down at you in all your glory, “couldn’t help myself.”
A much louder moan voicing from you when she rubs at your clit again. Strings of pleas and begs as your high builds. Natasha coos, “she’s sensitive.”
“Should’ve seen her after a single kiss, she was soaked.”
Natasha tuts, coming to stand over you, “such a sweet thing.”
The way she kisses you is overwhelming. Wanda’s kisses are passionate while Natasha’s are gentle, little pecks. She pulls back to tell you how good you are, how well you’re taking her and it’s all you’re wanting. Wanda’s fingers push up against a spot that has your back arching.
“Fuck,” you reach to clench Natasha’s hands, “Wanda, I’m—“
You’re barely able to get the words out, a whine coming from you as you come down from your high. The warmth of Wanda’s replaced by a cold, wet body.
“Why’re you wet,” you question, shaky hands coming to squeeze water from her coat.
“You.”
“You’re insufferable.”
She picks you up, frowning when you shiver at the cold water hitting your skin. It wasn’t long before she’s laying you down on their bed, growing nervous at the sight of her removing her outer layers of clothing. She’s climbing over your body, soft touches running up and down the sides of your waist.
“Are you okay if I touch you?”
You hum, a grin on your face as you brush her wet hair out the way. She rolls her eyes dramatically, pulling her hair into a bun.
“Better?”
“Hmm better,” you laugh, your light sounds covering the room even as she tries to shut you up with a kiss. She tries something else, wrapping your legs around her so she can grind her hips into yours at a better angle. You’re much more sensitive, every touch already pushing you over the edge.
Natasha slides her shirt over her head, the jeans around her waist following. You realize what’s happening, heat rising to your face as you realize she’s strapped. She spreads you further, pressing her hips into you to hear how prettily you gasp.
Her eyes trained on you when she presses in. Your chest feels like it’s being squeezed with each inch. Natasha winces at your nails digging into her biceps, so she pushes your wrists into the mattress. It’s infuriating watching you squirm beneath her, hips pushing up to get more than what she’s giving you.
The pace she sets off to start with is dizzying. Your back is arched off of the bed, loud cries escaping you. Natasha removes her hands off of yours so she can wrap one around your waist and pull you down the last two inches with each thrust.
“What a good thing you are. Taking us so well.”
With your face turned into the bedsheets, you babble about nothing, only her name coming out in repetitive whimpers. Anything she says falls into the back of your mind, attention focused on the way she’s driving her hips into you. You don’t have to say anything because she’s already done it.
The sheets twist in your hold, back arching even further if possible. A choked moan finding its way from you when you topple over the edge suddenly and recognize that Natasha hasn’t stopped.
You gasp, “more?”
Wanda presses on your bundle of nerves and you jolt, “do you want to stop?”
“no! need more.”
Natasha shakes her head to express her answer, droplets of water falling down and onto your body. You pant, breathing fast to deal with the blinding pressure. Wanda brushes the water off your face gently, contrast of how Natasha was handling you.
“Your eyes are still all glossy, angel,” Wanda coos.
“Please,” you cry, “please don’t stop.”
Natasha pulls your hips further up, hitting into at you a different angle. You’re almost thanking her, tears forming in your eyes.
“I know, I know, sunshine. Breathe.”
You’re coming again for the third time that night. You’re quiet, lips slightly parted as you try and take a break. Natasha’s pulling out, letting Wanda you close to her as she brings you to their bathtub. You can feel the soreness in your hips already, a relaxed sigh coming from you when you hit the water as it takes some of the pressure off.
“How’re you feeling?”
Natasha questions as she walks in behind you two. Your head is rested against the wall of the bathtub, “sore.”
Wanda laughs then, light and airy. Natasha doesn’t pay her any mind. You reach a hand out, a pitiful pout on your lips, “join me?”
Who were they to say no?
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#I got a bad idea series#southern!wandanat x reader#wandanat x reader#wanda x nat x reader#wanda x natasha x reader#natasha x wanda x reader#nat x wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda x you#dom wanda#top wanda#top natasha#dom natasha#marvel natasha#natasha x fem!reader smut#natasha x fem!reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha romanov x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanov x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda x reader smut#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maxmoff x y/n
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So I haven't written a lot of meta in a while for anything, but I feel the need to talk about this because I just have a lot of feelings about it.
I want to talk about the two kisses Buck and Tommy have shared on screen. What I like about the two kisses is that there's this wonderful difference between them.
The first one is the one Tommy initiated with Buck. There's this caution and care and easing that Tommy brings, partially because he doesn't know where Buck stands and he's taking a chance on this feeling. He gives Buck the opportunity to move away from the kiss, to not let Tommy guide him into that kiss.
And even when Buck kisses back, Tommy is still gentle; Tommy is soft and he lingers. Tommy soaks in that moment.
And Buck's kiss at the hospital?
Oh wow it's beautiful in a completely different way. Buck has seen this man not only come to a bachelor party Buck organized despite Tommy being on call, but Tommy coming to Chimney and Maddie's wedding at a random hospital as soon as he could after fighting a 24 hour forest fire. Buck has seen Tommy make him a priority when so many people don't do that for Buck.
But here Tommy is.
Rushing to the hospital.
Tommy probably had his coworkers drop him off in their station's firetruck. Tommy didn't even go back to his station to change, he rushed into that hospital with his entire uniform on, still covered in soot.
Tommy was there for Buck.
Because Buck is important to Tommy. Because this was important to Buck. And Tommy had promised he would be there.
And there's this joy Buck has in someone caring about him that much; to date someone who actually thinks about what's important to Buck. This person who keeps being there for him even when work makes it difficult.
And there's a confidence in Buck.
In how he feels about Tommy.
In what he wants.
These two have been going out for weeks, and you can see the difference in how Buck acts in public with his boyfriend now, even if he's not out to most of his loved ones (yet).
That's so clear in Buck's actions. Buck takes control of that kiss in a way that surprises Tommy, you can hear it in the surprised moan. Because Tommy wasn't putting any expectations on Buck, he was okay with whatever Buck could give him. He never pressured Buck.
And this is what Buck gives when he's comfortable and feels loved.
And part of Tommy's surprise must be that no one actually handles him like this. People see Tommy's size and assume that he would be the one who would initiate, who would take control.
And Tommy?
Tommy melts into that kiss. And Buck can tell and he keeps kissing Tommy like that.
And you know, people talk about how Tommy should have warned Buck to wipe the soot off his face, but honestly how would Tommy have the brain cells to do that after a rough 24 hour shift and that kiss? I bet Tommy could barely focus enough to apologize to Maddie and Chimney for being late.
Buck is also so pleased with himself. You can see that when he goes upstairs. He's been making out with that man long enough to where people are casually chatting while eating wedding cake and he is just energized.
I just really love both of these kisses.
#911 spoilers#911 7x04#911 7x06#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#buck buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#tevan#kinley#firebeast#bucktommy meta#the bucktommy kisses
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☼ NFWMB (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; nothing can tear the two of you down. they can try, but you're always one step ahead.
warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehh gore, blood mention.
wc; 5.5k
notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, NFWMB by Hozier. not really noticeable, though.
—
“Here she comes.” You murmur to Finnick, he tilts his head back to get a look.
Katniss is coming down from the tree she scaled a few minutes before. She wanted to assess the situation around the Cornucopia, see how many victors have died so far. By the grim look on her face alone, it tells you all about what won’t be said aloud.
Well, not by you, anyway. Finnick doesn’t care about being sensitive. “What’s going on down there, Katniss?” He asks once she’s made contact with the ground. He’s holding his trident out, casually defensive, as if he’s silently telling her that he’ll fight if he has to. “Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?”
His voice is teasing, because he knows exactly the thought process that she must’ve gone through while she was up there, alone. She likely went up the tree, expecting to find some blood in the water, but not much. After all, twenty-four of you had thrown everything you had at the Capitol to convince them not to send you into the arena, and held hands to show unity among the districts, even if it was a second… She must’ve had herself convinced that there wouldn’t be carnage.
With no pressure to appear complaint with an alliance she had no say in, she could work out her real feelings. Weigh the pros and cons of staying together. It’s led her to think that if you would kill the victors you’ve known and worked with for years, what would keep you from killing her and Peeta, too? How could she reasonably agree to stay?
She can’t.
“No.” Katniss says, responding to Finnick’s pointless question.
“No,” He repeats. “Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance.” He pauses, eyeing Peeta. “Except maybe Peeta.”
He’s standing off to the side, looking between Katniss and Finnick, trying to decide whether or not they’re getting hostile—if he should intervene. This is exactly what Finnick means, Peeta’s too good to be in here. It’s his kindness that almost got him out the first time.
While the rest of you would selfishly kill to save your own lives if it meant survival, he would risk his life to save everyone. He’s got compassion, a quality that the rest of you lack the moment you step into the Games. The only reason why he got crowned was because Katniss refused to let him die, the rest of you fought and didn’t let anything get in your way, mercilessly.
The silence between the two of them is growing heavy with every passing second. It’s as if they’re playing chess, without making any of the physical moves. They’re going back and forth on deciding who will be the one that could come out a fight alive. Who’s the stronger tribute, what move they should make, if they should be the one to make it first.
You know better than to think that Finnick would make the first move. He knows you can’t afford to lose Katniss’ trust entirely. She’s the key to getting out of this arena alive. She’s the one that holds the rebellion in her hands, whether or not she realizes that. Finnick will only move if she does, and it’ll be in self-defense.
You don’t give her the chance, stepping between them, spinning the spear in your hand until you stab it headfirst into the ground. This is to show her that you’re not looking for a fight. She can hold the power in this situation if she wants to, but you won’t let her attack Finnick. She’ll have to get through you, first.
Katniss’ eyes narrow, unhappy that you’re blocking her real target. She won’t be able to kill you, and you know this. Katniss actually likes you, she even suggested having you as her ally to Haymitch, but changed her mind when she found out that you and Finnick come as a package deal.
You give her a little smile, tilting your head. “Did you see how many are dead?”
“Hard to say.” She tells you, still tense. Her fingers flex around the bow, suddenly deciding to lean on her hip, as if she’s trying to see Finnick around you.
Your chin drops, smile fleeting, eyes boring into hers.
The expression is enough for her to take a step back, catching the message. “At least six, I think. And they’re still fighting.”
With upturned lips, you finally move out of the way, allowing her to see Finnick again.
“Let’s keep moving. We need water.” Peeta says.
His eyes are bouncing between you and Finnick, as if he doesn’t know which one of you to talk to. You pull your spear out of the dirt, holding it in one hand as you cross one arm over your chest and one under.
“Better find some soon,” Finnick says. “We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight.”
Katniss presses her lips together, nodding slowly.
“We’ll have Peeta lead the way, then.” You motion.
Peeta doesn’t argue, fixing the machete in his hand before beginning to cut away at the vegetation the same way he had been before taking the break. Finnick tries to push you up next, but you place your hand on his back, forcing him forward. The previous formation had worked before he had a standoff with Katniss. You need to be at the end, now. For everyone’s sake.
The slope is a nightmare to climb, but at least you’re not running. It’s easier to move at a slower pace, knowing that the Careers are preoccupied with the Cornucopia. You won’t be worrying about them until tonight, when the biggest fight is over, and they begin to search for smaller ones.
It must be a mile before it looks like the end of the tree line, as you reach the crest of the hill. Katniss speaks behind you through heavy breaths. “Maybe we’ll have better luck on the other side. Find a spring or something.”
You hope she’s right, because you’re not going to last very long in this heat if she isn’t. It’ll be a waste of time and energy if you go down into this valley and it’s just more trees. By then, you’ll probably be too delirious to keep searching. It’ll be on the mentors and sponsors to keep you alive.
“Peeta, don’t—!” Katniss suddenly cries out, taking a step around you.
A sharp zapping sound fills the air, a blast of air, and then Peeta’s being flung back, straight into you and Finnick. You hit the ground, arms over your head to keep from cracking it on a rock. There’s a dull ache in your ribcage afterwards, but it’s so menial that you forget about it when you hear Katniss calling for Peeta.
You sit up, finding Finnick already looking at you. He touches the side of your face, rubbing away a clump of dirt. “Are you—?”
“Peeta!” Katniss screams. She’s on her knees above him, shaking his body so hard that he’s rocking. She slaps his cheeks, trying to wake him. “Peeta!”
Finnick’s hand falls from your face, mouth open as he crawls a few feet over to Katniss, you move to follow. He pushes her out of the way, needing to be where she’s sitting, “Let me.”
He touches the points at Peeta’s neck, and you catch on to his plan immediately. He runs his fingers over the bones in his ribs and his spine, being thorough. When he stops, he pinches Peeta’s nose shut.
“No!” Katniss yells, hurling herself at Finnick.
You jump, arms securing around her upper body, tackling her to the ground. She’s stronger than she looks, though, because she manages to get out of your grip, and flips her body on top of yours. With both of your hands pinned next to your head due to her knees, she pulls an arrow, pressing it against the bow, and draws back the string, aiming for Finnick.
“Wait!” You squirm beneath her. “Don’t!”
She holds the position, watching your boyfriend. You arch your back, turning your head to the side to try and see where Finnick’s at in the process. You can hardly see him out of the corner of your left eye, due to him being directly behind you.
He’s breathing air into Peeta’s lungs, making his chest rise and fall. Finnick then reaches to unzip the top of the jumpsuit to get access to his skin. And like all the times he’s done it before, he begins to pump the area over Peeta’s heart with the heels of his hands.
When you look back at Katniss, you can see that the intense crease between her eyebrows has relaxed. She watches, captured by Finnick’s actions. When she glances down, she realizes that she’s still on top of you, so she moves off, the arrow sinking to the ground.
You get to your feet, wanting to be out of the dirt and grass. Finnick is so well rehearsed that while you would feel the need to ask anyone else if they’d like to trade off, you don’t bother with him. He goes on like this for several minutes, determination not once wavering.
When Peeta lets out a small cough, Finnick backs off. Katniss flings herself at him, brushing his hair off of his forehead. “Peeta?”
His eyes flutter open, landing on Katniss. “Careful.” His voice is weak. “There’s a force field up ahead.”
The laugh that comes from Katniss is choked, because of the tears coming down her face is a giant wave. Finnick gets to his feet, coming to you to brush his fingers through your hair, combing out dirt and leaves.
“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” He murmurs quietly. “I couldn’t tell.”
“I’m fine.” You assure him. “You’re a quick thinker.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Anything to save the alliance, right?”
He wanders away to recollect the weapons, your eyes linger on Katniss and Peeta.
“Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof. I’m all right, though. Just a little shaken.” He tells her.
“You were dead! Your heart stopped!” She bursts, and then slaps her hand over her mouth.
“Well, it seems to be working now. It’s all right, Katniss.” He touches her arm. She nods her head, but doesn’t move her hand. “Katniss?”
“It’s okay. It’s just her hormones.” Finnick says, dropping the trident, spear and machete into a lazy pile together. He’s looking down at them. “From the baby.”
“No. It’s not—” She’s cut off by her own sobs, glaring through the tears at Finnick.
You stare, unsure of what’s happening. When you look at Finnick, you find him just as puzzled, fae twisted. He looks between the teenagers on the ground, before giving a glance your way. You raise your eyebrows, he shakes his head slightly.
“How are you?” He asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?”
“No, he has to rest.” Katniss insists, pressing the back of her arm to her nose to keep it from running. She wipes the tears from her face, trying to seem presentable again. She then reaches toward Peeta’s neck, picking up the gold disk attached to the necklace. “Is this your token?”
“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match.” He says.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” She smiles.
“So you want to make camp here, then?” You ask, trying to get them back on track.
“I don’t think that’s an option.” Peeta says. “Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly.”
“Slowly would be better than not at all.” Finnick says, reaching to help Peeta to his feet.
You collect the trident and the spear, while Katniss grabs the machete for Peeta. She hands it to Peeta, checking over her own weapons. Once everyone has gathered themselves, she starts forward. “I’ll take the lead.”
—
“Run!” Katniss’s shrill voice cuts through the quiet night air. “Run!”
A hand secures around your forearm, pulling you upright. You squint through tired eyes to find the enemy, reaching to grab your spear. Finnick’s on his feet, trident in one hand, your arm in the other.
The only thing you’re met with is the wall of white fog, descending upon you. You try to get to your feet, realizing that you have to run. Finnick doesn’t have the patience, leaning over you to simply scoop you into his arms. You bounce, wrapping an arm around the back of his shoulders.
“Finnick.” You say, but he doesn’t look at you, attention alternating between the path ahead and the fog that’s closing in on you from the sides.
He holds up the trident wordlessly, you take it from his hand. This allows him to get a better hold on your body. You watch his face for a few minutes, and then you turn your attention to the two behind you.
Katniss and Peeta are struggling to keep up with the pace that Finnick is setting—which is impressive, considering you’re an extra weight in his arms. Peeta is moving slower than he was this afternoon, meaning that the force field did more damage than any of you realize.
Katniss is holding his hand, moving in front of him, picking out where they run through. They’re managing to stay in front of the fog, but not by much. The fog is lapping at their heels, and even through the darkness, you can see their reactions to it.
“They’re struggling.” You tell him.
He turns enough to get a brief look at them. “You can do it, follow my path!”
It’s not enough. Finnick only takes a couple more steps when you watch as Peeta gets his prosthetic leg caught in a patch of weeds. He can’t catch himself, and it’s too late for Katniss, too. He sprawls across the grass, with Katniss struggling to help him.
“Finn,” You squirm in his arms, “We have to get them. They’re going to die.”
He stops running now, panting. He lets your legs down first, making sure that you’re on a solid part of the ground before he leaves you, trekking back up to the tributes from Twelve. You watch as Katniss jerks Peeta forward, causing him to stumble. Finnick gets there, pulling Peeta’s arm over his shoulders. Katniss wedges her shoulder under the other, and they begin to work together.
“Do you want me to help?” You call.
“No, (Y/n)!” Finnick shouts. “Find us a path.”
You give a hard nod, turning and going down the slope, trying to pick out an area that the three of them will be able to take together. However, they’re only able to make it so far before Finnick stops. You watch as him and Katniss talk for a moment, before he points at you.
She stares at him for a long moment, like she’s confused. As soon as you take a step to go back and find out what the issue is, Finnick pulls Peeta onto him. Katniss is running at you, leaving him behind. When she gets close, she grabs a hold of your arm, pulling you with her.
You resist, watching Finnick.
“Go, (Y/n)!” He barks at you.
It doesn’t feel right, letting him take up the rear, but Katniss is pulling so aggressively that once you stumble forward one step, it’s easy to keep dragging you. And it isn’t until Finnick passes you, taking the lead, do you let her pull you along.
Together, the three of you run between bushes and ferns, dodging trees, narrowly avoiding roots and weeds, calling out warnings. Finnick is taking you down a diagonal path, keeping you away from where the fog is walling you in, while also steering you to the Cornucopia, where the water is.
Still, the fog somehow gains distance, moving faster, tendrils reaching for you desperately. It finally touches you, a searing pain blistering across your skin. The jumpsuit melts away from the acid, doing nothing to protect you from the element.
Katniss begins to struggle, her arms twitching at her sides, having a mind of their own. Her leg has become one useless block, refusing to move with her anymore. She’s not the only one, you can see that Finnick and Peeta can’t help their movements, either. It’s a reaction to the fog, it’s attacking your nerves.
You follow Finnick until he collapses on the ground, Peeta on top of him. Katniss isn’t too far behind, she doesn’t stop, despite seeing them. She trips over their bodies, hand letting you go as she falls onto the heap. You topple forward, but catch yourself on her lower back.
“Get up.” You tell her, head swiveling to look at the fog, still approaching you. “Get up, now!”
You pull Katniss off of Peeta, trying to prop her on her feet, but she sways, not being able to hold her bodyweight. She lands nearby, bow falling from her hand. Peeta manages to roll off Finnick, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend, and his half-conscious state.
You ditch the weapons, grabbing onto his wrists, trying to drag him away from the fog. If there’s anyone that’ll survive this, it’s going to be you two. You’ll deal with the repercussions afterward, you won’t let him die.
You get him a few feet, before you can hear Katniss croaking. Her voice acts as a reminder that you’re supposed to save her, she’s the important one in this situation.
“It’s stopped.” She says, which is what she must’ve been trying to tell you.
You look up from her body to where the fog was advancing. She’s right, it appears to be thicker, forced to condense, but the tendrils are gone. It’s like it’s pressed up against a glass wall, keeping it from moving forward.
You let out a breath of relief, lowering Finnick momentarily as you catch your breath. He’s staring up at you, green eyes capturing yours, moonlight glinting off his bronze hair. His lips move, but there’s no sound behind it.
“Mon-hees.” Peeta murmurs.
You look over to see that he’s gesturing up, at a pair of orange monkeys, sitting together on a branch above them. You drop one of Finnick’s wrists, your hand reaching for the knife on your purple belt. Peeta then rolls over to his knees, beginning to climb down the slope, Katniss behind him. The monkeys don’t jump at them, letting them leave.
You ease, grabbing Finnick’s wrist again, as you go back to dragging him out of the jungle. It’s fairly obvious that he’s in worse condition than the other two, because of his drooping face and uncooperative limbs. He took on most of the fog for Peeta, but that doesn’t mean that Peeta’s completely clean.
You get to the beach, pulling Finnick to the shore, before lowering him to the ground. Katniss crawls all the way to the water, letting it hit her face before she jerks back, letting out a noise. She doesn’t let this deter her, placing her hand on the wet sand, water washing over it. She winces, but you watch as the blue water turns a milky white.
It’s coming out of her skin.
“Okay, Finnick.” You murmur, walking around him to grab his feet. He groans as a response. You turn his body around, carefully pulling him into the water. “Work with me, baby.”
You pull his shoes off first, tossing them toward the treeline. When you begin to work the jumpsuit off his body, he tries his best to move the right way. You have to be careful, with the amount of white patches on his tanned skin. The last thing you want is to get any poison on your skin.
Once you’ve got the wetsuit off, it’s easy to work from there. You start with his feet, carefully scooping handfuls of water on, watching as the poison leaves his skin in wisps, disappearing into the air. You pull him in the water, inch by inch, working all the way up to his abdomen, before Katniss and Peeta are well enough to help you.
“Here, you take his head.” Peeta tells you. “We’ll get his body.”
“Be gentle.” You tell him. “His skin is sensitive from the…” You trail off, wanting to say Capitol. From the years of ongoing abuse he’s enduring from them. You sigh. “The um—the Games.”
Peeta nods, because there’s no need to question you. Katniss observes the way you treat Finnick, mimicking that. Together, you manage to get all the way up to his neck, not wanting to dunk his face underneath the water.
“Finnick, you’ve got to do this part on your own.” You tell him.
“That’s the worst part, but you’ll feel much better after, if you can bear it.” Peeta says.
Finnick nods, scooting to sit up. He takes your hand, squeezing tightly, as he purges his eyes, nose and mouth in the saltwater. When Katniss sees that you’ve got this under control, she gets to her feet.
“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” Her fingers pat the spile on her belt.
“Let me make the hole first.” Peeta says. “You stay with them. You’re the healer.”
Katniss shakes her head at him, not saying anything. He heads for the trees, knife in hand, looking for a good one. He finds it about ten yards from the beach. Katniss keeps a close eye on him, considering he’s hardly visible there.
Finnick eventually lets go of you, wanting to go deeper in the water. You let him, because there’s still a spot on your shoulder that you need to rinse from the poison. You dive into the water, feeling the hot pain blossom out from the spot the fog initially touched you.
When you surface, you scrub at the skin, watching the water turn white. With no other place on your body poisoned, you go to join Katniss back on the beach. She seems to have collected her mockingjay pin, now pinned to her undershirt. You stand near her, watching as she combs her hair from the braid. It’s fairly damaged from the poison, as it noticeably thins. If she cares, she hides it well, because she braids what’s left and throws it over her shoulder.
She then starts toward the water, trying to soak it in to get rid of the stiffness in her arms and legs. You opt for joining Peeta in the jungle, but only to grab the trident and spear, before leaving him in there.
Katniss alternates between floating on her stomach and back, getting as much exposure as possible. While Finnick makes laps around the wedge, dives, surfaces, sprays water out of his mouth at you. He even sinks to the seafloor, and right when Katniss opens her mouth, his head pops out of the water.
“Don’t do that.” She snaps.
You laugh a little.
“What? Come up or stay under?” He asks.
“Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave.” She says, wading out of the water. “Or if you feel this good, let’s go help Peeta.”
Finnick pushes his hair out of his eyes, shaking his head behind her back. You hand him his trident, and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from you during the exchange.
He pulls away, humming. “Salty.”
“Gross.” You tell him. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m a new person.”
“That’s good.”
Katniss takes a few steps into the jungle, when she suddenly stops in the middle, forcing you to stop, too. She looks up slowly, you follow her gaze. In the branches hanging above Peeta, are a couple dozen of monkeys, weighing down the limbs. These are the same orange color as the pair that you’d seen thirty minutes ago.
The ones that you thought were going to attack them.
Katniss casually reaches for two arrows, arming her bow with them. You fix the spear in your hand, sharing a look with Finnick. “Peeta,” Katniss’s voice is even, trying to stay calm. “I need your help with something.”
“Okay, just a minute. I think I’ve just about got it.” He says, still drilling into the tree. “Yes, there. Have you got the spile?”
“I do. But we’ve found something you’d better take a look at. Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”
It’s smart of her to keep the monkeys from him, considering they’re not reacting to your presence. They’ve all got their eyes on Peeta, he’ll be the trigger if he moves too fast.
Peeta turns to you, a little crease between his eyebrows. “Okay.” He says.
He begins to move in your direction, not being quiet at all. This makes you tense, but the monkeys still aren’t moving, holding where they are in the trees. He’s five yards from where you’re standing on the beach, when he gets a clue. His eyes cast up, and he must make eye contact, because the monkeys explode.
They move faster than you’re able to comprehend, as the shrieking begins. They come down the trees by the vines, swinging at him. They leap from tree to tree to get a better advantage on him. Fangs bared, hackles raised, claws shooting out.
“Mutts!” Katniss spits.
The three of you jerk to join Peeta in the jungle to protect him from the sheer amount of them. Katniss begins to fire arrows rapidly, taking down monkeys left and right, targeting vital points. You and Finnick work back and forth, trying to keep up with her pace, but she’s got a long-ranged weapon.
Finnick will spear several of them like fish before flinging them off to the side. You take jabs when the occasional one gets too close, Peeta slashing with his knife. One of the monkeys latch onto Katniss’s back, when you stab through the back of its head.
The air is hard to breathe, between the scent of blood, the warm must of the monkeys, and the trampled plants. You all move to have your backs to one another, a few yards between each of you to make this fight easier.
A monkey comes soaring out of the trees, straight at you, right as you aim to kill a different one. You can feel your whole body clam up, preparing for the impact.
“Don’t move!” Finnick shouts behind you. You can feel the wind of the trident whizzing between you and Peeta, slamming directly into the chest of the monkey, and the two behind it.
“Worry about yourself!” You tell Finnick.
“Right!” He laughs, you pull the knife out of your belt to hand to him. He grabs it, slicing for a few seconds, before he shouts. “Switch!”
You twist around to take the opposite side, Finnick moves quickly, taking where you’d been standing moments before. There’s more monkeys on this side, forcing you to catch up. When you steal a glance over your shoulder, you see that Finnick has retrieved his trident, getting back on track.
Katniss shoots an arrow, reaching back to grab another. She then switches to her knife, swinging. “Peeta! Your arrows!”
Peeta drops what he’s doing to slide it off, Katniss turning to grab it. This forces you to cover not one, not two, but three areas. Finnick grunts behind you, trying to do the same, but the two of you aren’t enough. A monkey lunges out of a tree, aiming for Peeta. Katniss throws her knife, missing.
Before you can help, Katniss begins to run at Peeta. You reach out to grab the back of her undershirt, she slips from your fingers. She won’t make it in time.
The tip of your spear pierces through the chest of another mutt, when a high-pitched scream fills the air. You look, prepared to see Katniss on the ground, but instead find the female tribute from District Six running at the mutt aimed for Peeta. She throws her skinny arms around it, as it sinks its teeth into her body.
Peeta drops the sheath, which Katniss stoops to grab. He repeatedly stabs his knife into the monkeys back until it releases its jaw, kicking it away, bracing for more. The four of you are panting loudly, for a second, that’s all you’re able to hear.
“Come on, then! Come on!” Peeta shouts angrily.
The monkeys aren’t moving forward, though. In fact, they withdraw, fading into the jungle, called back by the Gamemakers.
“Get her.” Katniss tells Peeta, looking at the morphling. “We’ll cover you.”
Peeta carefully pulls the morphling into his arms, carrying her a few yards to the beach. You follow behind him, spear tight in your hand. Finnick and Katniss come out once your feet hit the sand, ensuring that the monkeys don’t come out behind you.
Peeta brings her to the water, laying her in the wet sand. Katniss cuts away at the wetsuit covering her chest, revealing the four puncture wounds, blood slowly pooling in them, trickling down her skin. It doesn’t look that terrible from the outside, which means the real damage has been done inside.
She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. Katniss kneels next to her, taking one of the twitching hands.
“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says, walking away.
When Katniss looks up at you for help, you turn to leave with Finnick, not necessarily wanting to watch the scene, either. He looks over, making sure that you’re going with him.
“What the hell is going on?” You whisper once you step into the trees.
“No idea.” He shakes his head. “The fog and the monkeys back to back?”
“In the middle of the night, too.” Your face twists. “A weird choice for the Capitol, wouldn’t they want the attacks to be during the day? What time is it, even?”
“It has to be really early.”
You lean up against a tree with the spear, watching the branches while Finnick picks bloody arrows out of the grass. There are a few mutt bodies around, but when Finnick gets close, the vines shift, pulling them away to keep you from inspecting.
When the cannon goes off, you move with Finnick to get back on the beach. A hovercraft has appeared over the water, claw dropping to collect the morphling out of the water. It secures around her, the claw returning to the craft, before disappearing.
He drops the arrows next to Katniss in the sand. “Thought you might want these.”
“Thanks.” She says, gathering them into her arms. She takes them to the water to clean, and when she’s done, she goes to the jungle, pulling moss off the rocks to dry them. “Where did they go?”
“We don’t know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone.” Finnick says, sitting in the sand near you.
He reaches up to scratch his face, where the fog has touched him. It’s seemed that the little wounds have scabbed over already. Finnick’s picking at them, the same way that Peeta is.
Katniss notices this. “Don’t scratch. You’ll only bring infection.”
Peeta sighs, hand dropping. “Think it’s safe to try for the water again?”
Katniss nods, you stay where you are in the sand, letting the other three go in there to get water. Finnick comes out with a shell of warm water, watching you drink it, before going back to grab more. When they’ve satisfied their thirst, they come back out.
“Why don’t you three get some rest? I’ll watch for a while.” Katniss says.
“Are you sure?” Finnick asks, she nods.
Finnick lays down in the sand, staring up at you expectantly. You give him a smile, moving his hair. “I’m not tired, baby.”
He doesn’t argue, simply turning over in the sand, putting his back to you. Peeta does something similar, but opts for laying on his back instead, settling in. You and Katniss sit in silence for a while, watching the waves come to shore, before retreating. Like a game of cat and mouse.
It isn’t until the boys have fallen asleep, when Katniss speaks. “Can I ask you a question?” You look over at her with raised eyebrows. “How are you and Finnick so in sync?”
You breathe a laugh. “Years of practice—trial and error.”
“But you’ve never been in the Games together.” She says, it’s not a question. “How do you two know when to help?”
“Intuition.” You shrug. “Willpower.”
She shakes her head, looking away.
“It’s not something you figure out overnight.” You murmur. “I’ve been dating Finnick for years, Katniss. I know what he’s going to say before he even thinks it. It's just what happens. Besides, you’ve got some of that between you two, too.”
“It’s not the same.” She says.
“Finnick would tear the world apart if it meant keeping me safe, forever. You’re telling me that you wouldn’t do the same?” You ask, she’s quiet. “That’s what you’re doing now, isn’t it?”
She meets your eyes. “Yeah.”
“We’re not as different as you think.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick oneshot#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#fluff#requested#3k celebration
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I LOVED the gitae fic it was so good😔🙏 We need part two where Maybe he feels pity for us and takes us out to eat or smth, you do the magic im bad at writing lmao 🤧
Thank uuu♡♡♡♡
A Planned Coincidence (pt. 1) (pt. 2)
“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”
summary: You’ve been stuck in the same warehouse you woke up in about three weeks ago, and no matter what plan you would make to escape— it’s no use and you’d only get in trouble. One of the times you did try with Gitae around, he had to clean up after you and the topic of your friends came up and so you begged to meet them. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned and you ended up ignoring Gitae for days. Eventually, he decided he’d take you out in hopes you’d finally speak to him.
character(s) included: Gitae Kim x fem!reader
cw: swearing, implied kidnapping, very toxic, same warnings as my first gitae fic (part 1) , yandere gitae, mentions of blood, death, kissing, suggestive, nicknames, cartel mentions, this is FICTIONAL, abuse, mentions of drugs, guns, his axe, implied cannibalism, a bunch of crimes so beware dark and possibly disturbing content
unwrapped on: Tuesday Morning, April 30 2024
wrapped up on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024
published on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024
“You tired of playin’ these stupid fucking games yet, doll?” Gitae said in an agitated tone, as he held your bruised hand and covered it in bandages. Afterwards, he planted a light kiss on top.
You remained dead silent and only looked towards the ground of the warehouse you were trapped in. You accidentally injured yourself in another one of your escape attempts, so here Gitae was, taking "care" of you once again with some condescending mockery.
“Well? Now you’re gonna go and play the quite game with me, huh?” He said with a slightly more irritated expression on his face.
“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” He said and he grabbed your chin to meet eye to eye with him, and you could tell he looked angry. He tightened his grip on your already bruised hand, causing you to yelp in pain from how much pressure was applied.
“Gitae.. I-I—, I was wondering if yo—” You were trying to speak when a few rounds of open fire suddenly interrupted you. You flinched and a visibly frightened expression was evident on your face. Gitae saw this and took you into his arms to face him, while on his lap so that he could straddle you and stroke your hair.
“Sorry about the noise, little girl. Just part of my men’s duties, I’ll let them know to keep it down though,” he said in a less irritated tone.
“Back to where we left at earlier.. Why do you keep tryna fucking escape?” He said in a slightly more raised tone.
“To leave..? Isn’t the answer to that question already kind of already a given?” You replied.
“Leave?” He scoffed, “and just where exactly would a little girl like you go? If I can recall, the friends you came to Mexico have gone missing.. And technically, you’re now known as a missing person, just like your four other friends.”
“Gitae, I hate to have to ask but— Did you have anything to do with those disappearances by chance? You’re speaking as though you know all about it and from what I’ve seen in the past few days..”
He cut you off and laughed, “did I? I thought that was already a given from when I took you here, was it not?”
“I think I get it now, I’m next.. Aren’t I?” You replied.
“What? When the hell did I ever hint something even close to that? I was talking about your little friends, they’re alive, but let me just tell you now that they won’t be for very long if you keep continuing this bullshit of trying to leave me.”
“They’re alive—? Where are they?! Can I please, pleaseee see them, pretty pleaseee??” You begged with your usual pouty face.
“It’s hard to say no when you say it like that,” he said as he held your cheeks together with his hand, “if you’re good for the rest of the day, I might consider it. How’s that for a deal, doll?”
“Deal!” You exclaimed and he tapped his cheek with his finger a few times while saying, “but first~?”
You then tried to give him a kiss on the cheek but he swiftly turned his head so that your lips would land on his instead, and it worked. Despite your situation, you turned into a blushing hot mess and Gitae simply laughed at your reaction, thinking “how cute.”
A little fast forward into that same day, the sun was finally setting, so you may finally get to see your friends again. You waited patiently in the warehouse, sat on top of some boxes, reading the books Gitae gave you to pass time while he was out doing who knows what.
Some kind of bell or alarm started to ring and from what you’ve been observing in the past three weeks, that alarm means that it’s around 8 or 9 in the evening, where most of Gitae’s “men” go out to do unspeakable acts that you’ve witnessed at some point.
Usually, This was around the time you’d try escaping the warehouse because everyone was way too busy to watch over you and most of the men there have left the warehouse, getting on some sketchy vehicles with all sorts of equipment, weaponry, and drugs. The remaining people were either asleep or high in the clouds.
But when you start to see the men leave, you’d usually start to see the second batch of men arrive with Gitae. You’ve noticed a pattern where half of the men go out with Gitae during the day and the rest of the men go out during the night and what similarity both batches shared was that they all came back bloody, smelling really odd, and sometimes Gitae would bring you what he calls a souvenir,— human flesh from one of his victims. Anytime Gitae would do that, you just ignored him for the next hour or two, depending on just how much his patience is willing to endure from you being a so called “brat.”
But, it was around 8 in the evening when the bell had rang, and now it’s past midnight. Yet you haven’t seen or heard from Gitae at all.
Reluctantly, you finally resorted to asking the men around to which they only replied with stuff like, “just give him another half hour and he’ll be here. He’s probably just ran into some trouble with a gang fight or somethin like that.”
One of the men was nice enough to give you some paper that you used to make little bookmarks for the various books you had.
Gitae usually takes you to sleep with him in one of the compartments of the warehouse that led to a bedroom, but since he wasn’t here and you had no idea on how to get in there, you fell asleep on the floor beside some boxes.
You woke up the next morning when you overheard a bunch of men who sounded like they were arguing. And weirdly enough, you were on the bed in the hidden compartment of the warehouse, with Gitae fast asleep beside you. His breathing was steady and he looked tired so you decided to just look around and take mental notes of what the room looked like. It was very different from the rest of the warehouse and was pretty cozy. Gitae’s usual leather jacket was hung on a chair nearby and you noticed some of his belongings on the table. One of which, was a gun. It had you thinking if you wanted to risk your entire life, jumping off the bed to get the gun which was on his side of the room, and shoot him blank.
But that was stupid, what about all the men outside? Gitae told you he isn’t a fan of silencers on his personal guns. They’ll definitely rush over thinking that you in fact, did something— because they all know that Gitae wouldn’t dare hurt you to such a foul extent.
So, you scratched that thought and looked at the door, where does that lead? You thought to yourself. Before you could even continue thinking as you were sat up on the bed, you heard Gitae suddenly start speaking in a raspy morning voice, “what are you up to, little girl? Shouldn’t you still be asleep in my arms?” You turned over to see Gitae, with messy morning hair, not in his usual state of a few loose strands with his hair slicked back.
“Nothing, I was jus-” You stopped for a moment when you saw Gitae sit up and reach for his gun, “doll, could you riddle me this,” he said.
You nodded in response and he spoke as he loaded his gun, “did you try to escape in any form and at any time yesterday?”
He looked you dead in the eye while readjusting compartments of his gun, you lost focus and started to stare at his hands fiddling around with the gun to which he suddenly snapped his fingers, “my eyes are up here, what did I tell you yesterday?” His eyes narrowed and you responded with, “to always look you in the eye when you speak..?”
“Correct. Now, answer.” He slowly finished prepping his gun.
“I didn’t, you could ask the men out there for proof of that.” You said.
“I already did, they told me you were finding me last night? Is that true, my pretty doll?” He said as he caressed your face.
“Well, you were taking much longer than expected to arrive.. A-and you did tell me that if I was good for the rest of the day, I’d get to meet my friends..” You said hesitantly.
“Right.. About those little friends of yours,” he spoke as he placed the gun on the table and your eyes widened, “what about them..?”
“Hoho, do you wanna find out for yourself?” He said with a smirk on his face.
“Gitae.. What do you mean..?”
“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”
“Fine then,” you replied.
Gitae stood up from the bed and so did you, it was still about 4 in the morning so it was cold outside of the bedroom, which is why Gitae put his leather jacket on you since you weren’t wearing much.
He unlocked the door with some sort of key that he took from a high shelf you couldn’t reach for yourself. Before he even swung the door open after unlocking it, he took a blindfold and placed it on you first, something that typically happens whenever you guys were going to leave the bedroom. From there he just carries you to the main open area of the warehouse to which he then takes the blindfold off once you’ve arrived around the usual boxes you stay at.
“So.. Where are they??” You asked visibly confused, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at Gitae.
“Silly girl, they aren’t here.. They’re at some other location we’ll be driving to,” he replied as he looked at one of the men who usually drove you and Gitae around. To which that man immediately left, starting up one of the cars that were outside.
“Awh, but it’s so early.. It doesn’t even look like it’s 5 in the morning, why would you suggest we go now..?” You pouted as you looked at Gitae, because of how sleepy you were he had to hold you with one of his hands to keep you from falling.
“Don’t worry, sleeping beauty— It’s a few hours to get to where they’re at, so you could just sleep on me in the meantime.” He replied as he carrier you once again and took you to the car.
He positioned you on his lap to face him and you settled your head in the crook of his neck, slowly drifting away. He gave you kisses on the top of your head and stroked your hair while you gently caressed his shoulders. You fell asleep easily and stayed in the same position.
Eventually, the car parked at some hidden area which appeared to be in a secluded part of a forest. You were still asleep when you guys arrived so Gitae started pressing kisses all over you. You started feeling ticklish from all of it and woke up.
Not even sure how you guys got here because you didn’t see a road to drive on but you didn’t question it.
“Good morning doll~ We’ve arrived, would you like to finally meet your little friends?” Gitae asked you, who was still sleepy and had woken up from a good dream, still not processing anything.
You simply nodded and clung onto Gitae’s shirtless body because you were too tired to even try getting up and walking.
Gitae carried you with ease and walked towards what appeared to be a pretty run down building, but what it specifically looked like was a blur to you because of how out of it you still were at the time.
An awful stench was evident from the exact moment you were in the building. A loud screech coming from a girl was heard all throughout the large building, echoing amongst the floors. The voice sounded a little too familiar, almost as if it were one of your friends producing a vile screech, a desperate scream for urgent help. The echo suddenly came to a stop without repeating the rest of the noise. Gitae tried to assure you that was someone else but it was no use, you were in an environment you’ve never been in before, hearing all sorts of things. You were terrified and started to both panic and cry, while you were still in Gitae’s arms. He started to get irritated with how your current state was, he even threatened to hit you if you didn’t stop screaming and crying, trying to get away from him. You ran off into some other part of the large building, hiding from him. At first, he was annoyed but decided to play your little game of hide and seek. But, couldn’t find you and so he started to punch different walls, some of which collapsed in an attempt to find you easier and to get you out.
He couldn’t take it anymore and pulled out his axe, he said that you had exactly 5 seconds to reveal yourself or this wouldn’t end well.
“This is a stupid fucking game, Y/N. 5,” he started his countdown, “4,” and you knew better than to disobey, so hesitantly “3,” you started to leave your hiding spot to reveal yourself, “2,” before he could even reach 1, you were on your knees behind him, sobbing.
“Gi-Gitae, please..” You sniffled, “I already have gotten a good idea of what you did with them, so please.. I don’t need to see it for myself.”
He scoffed, “after you just ran and hid from me? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” He grabbed you by your hair harshly and dragged you to the basement floor. And that’s where you saw another nightmare right in front of you, from the scene of the group of men who attacked you, to your own closest friends, all dead.
Except one of them, she was your closest friend in the entire group and she was completely unharmed. But had to closely witness all that was done to the other girls. She was tied up with chains and from what you know, her voice was the noise you heard earlier.
Which had you wondering, why did her screaming suddenly stop? But instead of focusing on that, you looked over to Gitae who has never looked so angry before. His grip on your hair was only becoming tighter as you tried pleading with him.
You were terrified to know that in any second, Gitae could literally crush your skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Gitae suddenly let go of the grasp he had on your hair and looked down on you, “I’m letting you know in advance that what happens next is thanks to you being such a brat.” He then struck his axe at your friend, multiple agonizing times while the one man that was there forced you to watch, holding you at gunpoint and purposely turning your head in the direction of both Gitae and your friend.
Gitae looked back at you after he struck your friend with his axe so many times that she’s no longer recognizable, you were a sobbing, pitiful, and distressed mess. You were screaming at him, begging him to stop, all the while trying to break free from the man’s harsh grip on you but it was no use and you couldn’t do anything at all.
I won’t go into too many details but it was extremely gruesome and gut wrenching. By the time Gitae finally decided he was finished, he threw the axe at your direction, purposely missing by just an inch to slightly scar your neck (since you were moving around a lot, it just barely scraped the side of your neck).
You yelped, Gitae then took a part of her flesh, and bit it— but unlike the last time, he ate this entirely and licked his fingers clean. He then spoke out “clean this place up, (insert name of man who was holding you).” To which the guy nodded and finally let go of you, you fell immediately to the ground and continued sobbing, you were twitching at this point from how terrified you were.
Gitae then looked over to you, he’s seen you upset but he’s never seen you this upset before. He looked back at the girl he had just mauled and at the other girls that were laying dead on the floor. That’s weird, he was starting to feel— bad for you?
Gitae spoke with someone on the phone and after, he carried you to the car. You never stopped sobbing and you were trembling as Gitae had you on his lap, facing his blood scattered face and body. He was trying his best to comfort you but you were ignoring him. Eventually, the car started to move and you knew this was gonna be a long ride, but you just kept on sniffing while your head was nestled in between the crook of his neck. He took the hint that you really weren’t gonna talk to him at all, so he stroked your hair with his unstained hand while you silently sobbed, clinging onto him so tightly that it left marks on his body. He also bandaged up the tiny scar you got coming from his axe.
A few days had passed and you still hadn’t spoken to Gitae no matter how many times he tried or how much he threatened you.
He was fed up, but he had an idea that might just work. He decided he’d take you out for dinner at one of the places that had gambling addicts so no staff would care. He hadn’t told you all about his plan yet but he had some guy book a reservation and he went out to buy you a little gift. You didn’t know of any of this because you couldn’t understand Spanish so you were just reading books in the corner.
He went out to buy you some clothes that he was badly hoping you’d like. He bought you more sleepwear and a cute outfit that you could wear on your little date with him. He bought some more things you mentioned you like, like some more books he knows nothing about.
He arrived back at the warehouse at around 5:30 in the evening and asked you to come with him, he blindfolded you and brought you to a bathroom. It was much nicer than the usual bathroom and you were assuming that this was another compartment of the warehouse.
He told you to shower, and you nodded in response. But, he was just standing at the doorway, staring at you. So you just stood there.
“Well?” He rose a brow, “I thought you wanted a shower, what are you doing just standing there?”
You gulped and finally spoke for the first time in days, “d-do you really.. have to watch..?”
He looked you up and down, “either I watch or join you, take your pick.” You remained silent, you didn’t want either of that.
He scoffed and put the blindfold on you once again, you could hear him fiddling with his belt and clothes rustling. After, he started to undress you as well, disposing of your clothes in the trash.
He turned on the running water in the bathtub and while it filled, he was doing some things but you couldn’t see so you had no idea. He took you into his arms and the next thing you felt was pure water, you haven’t showered in a while so this was a bliss. He took your blindfold off and to your surprise, you were on top of him in the bathtub. He gently sunk you into the water, and laid you on his figure, showering your hair with water.
He then applied different products on your hair and massaged your scalp. after he finished washing your hair and body, he started fondling around with your body.
“Your skin is so soft, doll,” he said as he played with your boobs. You lightly moaned from what he was doing and he smirked, “you like that, don’t you?” You subconsciously bucked your hips in response which caused him to twitch down there. You could feel his dick on you and he started aggressively kissing you. Things escalated and you ended up having to take a second bath.
“Doll~, I forgot to mention it because you riled me up so much earlier that I lost the chance to— butt, we’re going out tonight and I bought you some clothes.” Gitae said as he took out some unfamiliar clothes from the shelf and started to dress you while he was still in a towel.
After you were fully dressed, he smiled at you and commented, “you look adorable, just like a doll.”
Afterwards, he got dressed and was finally wearing something other than just jeans. He was wearing black pants and a formal shirt. You thought he looked handsome in his outfit so you commented, “you look handsome, Gitae,” you giggled. He chuckled and planted light kisses on the top of your head.
You guys then went out and arrived at some nice and flashy building. It was weird at first, you couldn’t possibly fathom why he would do this. Either way, you just went it.
“Well?” Gitae suddenly spoke as you were sat across from him, in a nice restaurant.
“Thank you,” you replied as you looked around the secluded spot you guys were sat at.
Gitae sighed, “still not happy?” He frowned.
You simply looked at him, pouting. To which he pouted back at you mockingly.
The food eventually arrived and Gitae wanted you to try some of his rare practically live ass steak, so he fed you some of it with his fork. You made a dissatisfied face and he laughed at your reaction. He loves the way you react to absolutely anything, he finds it adorably irresistible.
“Thank you,” you said as you were about halfway done with your meal.
“I don’t care for words, you silly little girl. How about you just show me your appreciation after dinner?” He said with a smirk.
You didn’t take the hint and so you asked, “how?”
He laughed at your response, “I’ll give you a better idea once we’re in the car, and once were back in bed, you continue wherever we left off in the car.” Your eyes narrowed until you finally understood what he meant to which you looked at him with a pout while you were chewing your food.
“What kinds of food do you like?” Gitae suddenly asked as he looked at your food then at you.
You shrugged, “I’m not really picky, but I do have my preferences and dislikes.. For instance, that steak you’re eating or any sort of steak.”
He looked at his food, “it’s delicious, how could you not like it?”
“We have wayyyy different diets, I’ve seen you eat raw meats of all sorts you bastard.”
“Awh, how am I bastard?” He pouted, but deep inside he was amused and enjoying this.
“Because of your question about food! I suddenly had a flashback about my friend, whom you took a bite of!” You said, somewhat sarcastically because you know how moody Gitae is and you didn’t want him to get angry at you again.
He just laughed, “I remember that, she tasted alright too, I should’ve had seconds.” You rolled your eyes and he was only more amused and said, “but because of your whining and puffy eyes, I had no choice but to leave as soon as I finished the job. Such a pity.”
“Hey, would it kill you to have some remorse?” You said as you picked up some meat with your fork and lifted it up to his mouth.
“I don’t really like this, but it seems like something you’d like.” You said as he was chewing what you just gave him. He would never admit it, but you feeding him made him feel something.
“It tastes good, I thought you said you weren’t a picky eater?”
“I’m not,” you said as you grabbed more of that meat on your fork and fed a bunch of it to him. He was genuinely so happy inside and his amusement turned into butterflies because for once, you weren’t scared of him and he for some reason, cared about that pretty badly.
Your guys’ dinner date went on like normal, exchanging words and actually getting to know each other.
Eventually you felt the need to use the restroom so you mustered up the courage to ask permission to go.
“Gitae,” he turned his gaze over to you and mumbled in response.
“Could I use the women’s room, please?”
Gitae looked around, “I’m trusting you don’t need me to make sure that no stupid attempts of leaving will happen?” He asked sternly.
“Yes, I promise.”
“Fine then, go ahead but don’t take too long.” You nodded in response and excused yourself from the table.
And just as you said, you did go to the women’s room. And just as you promised, you came back right after. While you were making your way back to the table, you saw that Gitae was approached by two guys who he seemed to have known from somewhere.
You got back to the table and the two men that Gitae was talking to looked over to you. They looked to have been working in the casino area of the building.
One of them turned back to Gitae and said, “I see now why a guy like you is brought to a place like this. I’m guessing she’s your girlfriend, right?” You all looked at Gitae who replied with a smile, “yes, she is.”
“Damn, you’re one lucky guy. She’s gorgeous from top to bottom!” One of the guys exclaimed as he placed his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it intensely. Gitae stared at his hand then at him.
How dare he lay his hand on something I own? He’ll pay for even daring to look at what clearly isn’t his. Gitae thought to himself.
“Well, we’ve gotta get going now.. But you two enjoy your night, especially the pretty lady over here,” one of the guys said as he stroked your hair and then proceeded to walk away.
You turned over to Gitae who looked like his veins were popping out of his skull and his aura seemed to have changed. He then looked back at you and smiled, “don’t mind them, I’ll make sure to deal with them some other time. But not tonight, tonight’s supposed to be our night.” He tried to keep his composure.
“Right.. Who were they anyway? And must they be so touchy..?”
“They’re friends with some of the people I know, but they won’t be for long.” He said as he took the final bite of his food and placed his fork down.
It’s safe to say that those two were never seen again, and the police didn’t even open an investigation about the disappearances when it happened. Soon, the news about those two guys went cold and if anything, any trace or information of them was wiped out entirely.
notes: I did more than the request and added way more before the actual dinner date because im gonna be busy in the next few weeks so idk when I can post again, and because i have a bunch of Gitae requests, I thought I might as well and this is long asf, also i’ve got another gitae fic in progress 😭😭
- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own
I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs
Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for a request, and l'Il be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request!!
#lookism#lookism fic#lookism manwha#manwha#webtoon#anime lookism#lookism anime#lookism fandom#lookism imagines#lookism webtoon#Gitae Kim#kim gitae#yandere gitae kim#gitae lookism#lookism gitae#gitae kim x reader#lookism gitae kim#lookism gitae kim x reader#lookism x reader#suggestive#lookism spoilers#webtoon lookism#manwha lookism#gitae kim x reader lookism#gitae kim lookism#foryou#foryoupage#fyp#unreleasedwrites#dark
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hello!! i’ve always wondered what kind of traumas vasco holds himself. i know machete can be very particular (e.g. touching/personal space) , but what are some things maybe machete does to make vasco more comfortable out of just their pure love for each other? like, for example - assume vasco maybe has a hard time keeping up with personal hygiene , or maybe machete is just a lot more clean and neat than vasco is , so machete is always folding his clothes to his own standards and reminding him to wash his fur after a while of going about weekly things , since machete himself probably washes every so often just to brush out matts in his fur .
love your art btw!! :3
He really doesn't like being told what to do. His father was keen on molding Vasco into his own image and his mother was overbearing and overprotective. He was their only son (youngest child, he has two older twin sisters) and as such a lot of pressure and unrealistic expectations were placed on him. He has a tendency to rebel against authorities, especially those who use their power and status to make life miserable for people below them. He has hard time accepting advice and doesn't listen if someone shows up to explain him how he should live his life. One of the ways Machete occasionally gets on his nerves is his constant need to be in control of everything going on around him, which means he often ends up attempting to (well-meaningly) manage Vasco as well. Eventually he figures out Vasco isn't very receptive to outside guidance and usually tries to give him room to do things his own way, even if it's not the "correct" way he would prefer to handle them.
Machete has many health anxieties and once Vasco becomes a fixed part of his life he starts to worry about his wellbeing as well. Like many floppy eared dogs, Vasco has a history of dealing with recurring ear infections, especially when he was very young. Antibiotics weren't available yet so the most effective way to treat them was puncturing the ear drum and letting the accumulated fluid and pus drain out. It was painful and scary and left Vasco with a lasting aversion and distrust for medicine and doctors. He's the kind of person that resists seeking treatment even when they're clearly ill or injured and just tries to shrug it off and wait it out. Luckily he's rarely sick and the scuffs and bruises he gets from being an active and outdoorsy person heal fairly quickly. Nowadays he's very careful about drying and airing out his ear canals properly when they get wet, in hopes of minimizing the chances of another infection. He also cleans them regularly, or lets Machete help with that.
He can be a bit disorganized and overly spontaneous, which can manifest as certain sense of chaoticness. Machete does end up subtly and discreetly picking up after him, planning ahead and going the extra mile to make sure Vasco's life goes as smoothly as possible, usually in ways Vasco doesn't even notice. The clothing part was an apt everyday example, Vasco has a habit of disrobing quickly and carelessly and leaving his (expensive and expertly tailored) garments on the floor or draped across furniture and sooner or later Machete will collect them and fold them neatly for him.
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Hey Pooks, I have another self-indulgent request…
I’m coming up on a year clean of SH, there’s no way I could have gotten this far without my friends. I was curious if you could write a fic about Jake/Johnnie either helping the reader during the healing process or celebrating her accomplishments during recovery.
I’m sure that you have a lot of requests at the moment, but I absolutely adore your work.
-🫠
Recovery - Jake Webber
Summary : Recovery is an incredibly hard process, but your best support system are your friends <3
Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (platonic)
Warnings : mentions of self harm, read at your own discretion!!!!
Word Count : 829
A/N : this was such a heartwarming request :( i'm so proud of you anon!!! as someone coming up on two years of being sh-free next week, i know firsthand how difficult this can be!! you're doing great, keep going!!! <3 to anyone struggling or needing someone to talk to, my anon box is always open, and so are my dms. you're never alone!!
Addiction is so difficult. It is arguably one of the hardest things that a human can go through. And with that, recovery becomes nearly impossible in a lot of cases.
You had been struggling with a self harming addiction for a long time, and had finally gotten onto the stable path of recovery. You knew firsthand just how difficult this was, and had fallen into many relapses before you had gotten to the point that you were at right now. If someone had told you a couple of years ago that you would be here, right now, you probably would’ve laughed in their face.
You knew there was no way that you could’ve gotten to the point that you were at now without your closest friends. They had been your support system through everything, not turning away or ever making you feel bad about it when you had been deep in addiction. They had always been caring and loving, making sure that they were there whenever you needed or asked them to be.
You could think of so many times off of the top of your head when they had genuinely be the best people in your life. Your family wasn’t incredibly supportive, blaming you more than anything else, so that had left you with just your friends. Grateful didn’t even come close to covering how you felt for them.
There had been a time when you had been relapsing, badly, and trying to hide it, feeling that there was the chance of your friends being upset with you, the anxiety and shame of what you’d done completely clouding your judgment. In your panic, you’d forgotten that Jake was due to be coming over that afternoon, and when he let himself in, you freaked out.
However, instead of the angry reaction that you had been anxiously expecting, Jake had been gentle, kind, and overall more than you had ever hoped for. You’d never had someone sit down with you, letting you cry your feelings out, and help you clean up. He sat in the bathroom with you, keeping gentle pressure on your wounds, halfway hugging you in between adjusting his hold, and making sure that you were sitting steady. He’d gently helped you bandage up the cuts, making sure that all of them were clean.
His hands, despite being large, were incredibly accurate and soft. You didn’t feel any excessive pain, but that may have been due to how out of it you were. You’d stopped crying by this point, but you were now exhausted, and didn’t feel good. Jake cleaned up the blood with no complaints, waving you off when you tried to help him. After that, he had pulled you into another hug, before gently settling you on the couch, cuddling with you for a while and making sure you ate something.
He refused to leave your side for many days after that. He stayed next to you, making sure that you were aways comfortable, had something to eat and drink, and took your meds, because he could tell that you hadn’t been taking them. He ordered food whenever you needed some, and never made you do more than lifting a finger to do anything. He had been your biggest supporter for years, but this week really brought the two of you even closer than you had ever thought you would be.
There had been another time where you had called him over, desperate for someone to distract you, and you swear he had never driven his car faster. He had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, getting there as quickly as possible, and had wrapped his arms around you, sitting with you to make sure you couldn’t do anything drastic. There were a ton of days that you would swear he saved your life, and both of those incidents fell under those days.
So that lead you to now, tears on your waterline, threatening to fall as you stood inside your front door, seeing a large balloon blown up in the shape of a “1” in your kitchen, Jake standing there with a huge smile on his face and a cake. He had promised you months ago that he was going to celebrate your year anniversary of being clean when you got there, but you hadn’t thought you would ever get there. You hadn’t thought that he would remember either, so you were shocked when you walked in to this.
He immediately hugged you, making sure you didn’t cry, and began to cut the cake. It had “One Year!” written on it in curly red icing, and he passed it to you with a small card. It had his scrawly handwriting on the inside of it.
“I’m so proud of you!! One year down, many to go. You’re incredible.”
You had a huge smile on your face by this point, incredibly proud of yourself as well.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668 @mystic-maniac @maddytheweird @707xn @jasperthefriendlyghostt @camille-1019 @anaavolibila @not-phone-guy
~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!
~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3
#johnnie guilbert#johnnie guilbert fanfic#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert fic#johnnie guilbert fanfiction#johnnie and jake#fanfic#jake webber fluff#jake webber fanfic#jake webber fanfiction#jake webber#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert age regression#jake webber age regression#jake webber agere#johnnie guilbert agere#little johnnie guilbert#little jake webber#caregiver jake webber#caregiver johnnie guilbert#jake webber authors#jake webber fic#jake webber angst#jake webber aesthetic
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thinking thoughts about how nona was so obsessed with crown, and crown specifically- not coronabeth. crown, with her boots and her cargo pants and her guns and her hair tied back, with all her charm and strength, all her rage and determination.
was that really just nona? or, walk with me here- is there a chance that that was actually alecto, too, bleeding through and rising to the surface?
alecto, seeing a kind of kinship in crown- in this big, tall, strong blonde with a sword strapped to her back, hot and lovely and kind and awful and powerful and perfect. this woman who refuses to give up- on her sister, on saving jody, on BOE's resistance. who's unafraid to throw one hell of a tantrum, if it means being listened to, for once. crown, who everyone thinks of as dumb, who everyone underestimates, who no one ever takes as seriously as they should, even though she's clearly capable of plenty of atrocities in her own right. this woman who's been described over and over again as someone who positively radiates life, and energy, and vitality, and strength. this woman who wanted nothing more than the chance to be herself, to be free, to serve as cavalier and guardian and protector, but was instead sentenced at birth to a life of being a princess and wearing dresses and looking pretty and loving less and staying out of the way and keeping her mouth shut and playing second fiddle to a necromancer obsessed with power and glory. familiar, no? this woman who was betrayed, left behind, left alone, and left utterly in the dark by the one person who's supposed to love her the most- only to then be told that being abandoned was in her best interest, really, for her own safety.
thinking about all the times we've seen ianthe insult crown's intelligence and praise her beauty in the same breath. you big dumb bimbo, what can you do? of all the times we've seen ianthe fussing over crown's appearance. thinking of the sister-lyctor makeover-montage ahead of dios apate minor, and how harrow hated every second of it, and how ianthe treated it like nostalgic second nature. thinking about the third house: fucked-up planet gossip-girl with all its betrayal and espionage and flesh magic and debauchery, three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile. thinking about the pressure that must have come with keeping up the double-necromancer ruse, about ianthe having successfully played the part of two necromancers from the age of six. exactly how much practice must that have taken? thinking about the casual, automatic, possessive, offhanded, violating nature of ianthe playing god and giving harrow a full head of fast-growing hair without asking, without even telling her, just to make harrow prettier, just to piss her off, just because she could. how she did it so easily, and without hesitation, almost as though she's maybe done that sort of thing before.
thinking about preservation. about a perfect body frozen in ice for a myriad, about ianthe spending all her downtime on the mithraeum figuring out how long she can keep an apple core in perfect stasis before the rot sets in.
thinking about corpse puppeting: a deceased world leader here, a trusted cavalier and friend you've known from the cradle there. about i picked you to change, and this is how you repay me? about she took babs. and who even cares about babs? babs! she could have taken me!
thinking about alecto, and hollywood hair barbie, and you have made me a hideousness.
thinking about crown, who's by her own admission boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a swordhand.
thinking about something as simple as stud earrings, and about how much grief ianthe gave her for daring to wear them.
nona loved crown.
something tells me that alecto might, too.
#the locked tomb#alecto the ninth#alecto#coronabeth tridentarius#crown him with many crowns#ianthe tridentarius#locked tomb meta#am i tagging this right? idk#nona the ninth spoilers#harrow the ninth spoilers#to be PERFECTLY clear i love ianthe. and i still think it's ENTIRELY possible that corona will turn out to be Badtwin in the end#but truly who's to say. women's wrongs and whatnot#also ik nona WAS alecto but like. she was also her own person. To Me. a study in 'would i be a different person without all the baggage' et#tridentarii#what a fascinating fucked up little dynamic with those two
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Hi. If you're comfortable with writing this ( if not, please feel free to ignore, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork & I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing!! 💗💗💗💗 ), may i request some angst where Zoro & gn!reader gets into a heated argument with each other which leads to reader wanting to break up with him?
★ WHAT ONCE WAS! roronoa zoro ★
── pairing. zoro x gn!reader.
── summary. change was something you feared. but it had happened before your very eyes as you watched your long-term boyfriend train to take on unknown dangers out on the sea. you can’t even recognize him anymore.
── cw(s). angst. gn!reader. no pronouns used. shitty summary. reader says something kinda mean. zoro being kind of a jerk. takes place pre-timeskip before zoro leaves the shimotsuki village. mentions of kuina.
── wc. 1.2k.
── notepad. i actually been so long since i’ve written something angsty that just stayed angsty. it hurt my soul just enough. so thank you so much for this !! i know the rq says that the reader wants to break up, but this one is kind of a mutual break up
things just kind of happen, don’t they? everything feels fine one moment, but the next moment not so much. people change all the time, even when you don’t want them to. maybe, you were afraid of change. maybe, you were just afraid of him changing.
he didn’t hold you anymore. when the sun had fallen to rest, and the moon had taken its place to shine silvery blue in the cool night sky. not once had his arms draped over your body like they used to. he hadn’t even faced you, as he drifted into the world of dreams. most nights, he did not even come to bed.
instead of lying beside you until sunrise, he found himself striking a dummy a hundred times with the same attacks to perfect them. instead of breathing in your cozy scent, he had pushed his mortal body way beyond its limits.
he didn’t kiss you like he did before, full of passion and love. his strong hands cradled your face as he kissed like every time would be the last one. instead, he had settled for quick pecks to the side of your temple, as he muttered “love you” against your warm skin. hardly even a moment later, he would be out the door. he didn’t even give you a chance to say it back. he never even said ‘i love you’ anymore.
maybe it was a minor thing to gripe about for some people, for it to be those special three words instead of the two. but it meant a lot to you, and he knew that. or at least you thought your boyfriend of several years would have known that.
you made up excuses, anything to keep you from believing that the man you loved more than anything was changing before your very eyes more and more every day. you found yourself thinking questions you never wanted to think about.
does he care anymore? was he no longer attracted to you? did he even love you anymore? had he ever even loved you?
it filled you with so much dread, to the point it was overwhelming. it was getting harder and harder to keep how you were feeling behind the closed door of your, well once shared bedroom.
you couldn’t keep going on like this. going on like everything was fine when it wasn’t. pretending to be fine, as you watched your neglectful boyfriend exert himself to near injury in the name of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman.
now he was talking about leaving the village to challenge dracule mihawk to a duel? you loved him dearly, but you heard one too many stories about “hawk-eyes”, none of them were good. allowing your boyfriend to even set foot off this island was sending him to an early grave.
you believed in him, sure. one day he would be the greatest swordsman. but for once, you just wanted him to be realistic and realize that that day will not be tomorrow, it won’t be next week, it won’t be next month.
why doesn’t he understand you feel this way because you care about him?
“zoro…” you say gently, standing at the door frame of the dojo.
the swordsman was still swinging away at the wooden dummy that was a few swings away from falling apart. of course, he didn’t hear you the first time. he never did.
“zoro” your voice was much louder this time, finally grabbing his attention. “huh?” was all he even said before he went back to swinging at the dummy. he didn’t even spare you a glance.
“can we talk, please? it’s important.”
“just say what you’re going to say, ( y/n )”
“WILL YOU PUT DOWN THOSE LOUSY SWORDS AND LOOK AT ME!”
you didn’t mean that. you knew just how much his swords meant to him, especially the one dawning a pure white hilt. you knew what his dream meant to him. you were just angry. frustrated. tired.
you watched as he sheathed the swords, and did as you said. his expression was stone cold. it was like looking at a whole new man. never had he ever looked at you like that. you knew what you said hurt his feelings.
“if you’re still trying to talk me out of leaving, forget it. if i don’t do it now then…”
“THEN WHAT?! you’ve never been out of the east blue! and you’ll be a DEAD MAN if you challenge a shichibukai!” you couldn’t stop yourself from yelling. “you don’t know what lies ahead of you in the other seas, zoro! i’m just trying to help you!”
“i never ASKED for your help!” he retorted, clenching his fist around the hilt of one of his swords. he continued, “i never WANTED your help! i never NEEDED your help!”
a silence filled the room, as your face dropped and your heart sank into the dark void of your body. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even form the words you wanted to. you weren’t even exactly sure what those words were.
“if i don’t do this now…then i may never have a chance to do it again. i have to do this, I thought you understood that.” his voice was full of disappointment, as he turned his back to you, as if you had meant nothing, as if this has all meant NOTHING.
you balled your fists, “i do understand that! but i also understand that there are battles that we are not prepared for just yet! kuina meant a lot to you, zoro. her dream has become yours, and you want nothing more than to achieve that for her. but you are not ready. letting you go would be suicide! kuina would not want that!”
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER!” he snapped at you.
“YOU’RE RIGHT! I DIDN’T! BUT I KNEW SHE WOULDN’T WANT HER FRIEND DEAD! AND I’M NOT GOING TO SIT BACK AND LET THAT HAPPEN TO YOU!”
“then don’t. leave.”
“…what?”
just like that, you felt everything crash around you. leave? what did he mean 'leave'? leave and go where? how could you leave when this was all you knew? HE was all you knew. you were each other’s firsts. how….could you just leave?
how could he throw everything away? everything you were willing to stay and fix.
“leave! you don’t want to be here then go. nobody’s stopping you.”
he made it clear.
it couldn’t be any clearer than that.
with shaking hands, you slowly turned on your heel, putting one foot in front of the other, walking out of the dojo, walking away from your first love, walking away from the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.
you had hoped, he would have stopped you. that he would drop his swords and chase after you, pull you into a hug, and apologize for what he said. you had hoped you just start over, like none of this ever happened. that he would see that you meant well, that you just wanted to keep him safe, that he would stay here with you.
but that didn’t happen. tears flooded your cheeks, as you continued to walk home without him.
it was over, wasn’t it?
© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.
#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.#one piece#one piece x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro roronoa#zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#zoro oneshots#zoro scenarios#zoro imagines#zoro headcanons#zoro angst#one piece oneshots#one piece scenarios#one piece imagines#one piece headcanons#one piece angst
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Anger is a secondary emotion.
m!yandere x gn!reader
TW: obsession, some violence
This'll be my first post! If you have any feedback, I hope you'll share it.
He's trying. Honestly he is. He's putting in the work, biting his tongue and keeping his fists clenched. He'll never pick another jealous fight or cause a scene for the rest of your lives. He'll stop taking souvenirs from your home after every visit. Maybe he'll even go to therapy and unpick the fucked up weave of his childhood to find the origin of his every maladaption. Who knows, he might come out of this rough patch a better human being.
Promises between the two of you are worth something. You always say what you mean, do what you say. That consistency is another thing he loves about you, another one of the countless reasons he couldn't bear to lose you. It was why the look on your face that day had terrified him, as you confessed you were sick of his shit and struggling to be his friend—you meant it when you said you would go no-contact because he was obsessive.
It was bad enough being relegated to a mere friend after two years of adoring you. What was he supposed to do if you left him altogether? As much as he hated sharing your time and attention with the rest of the world, he couldn't bear to lose his humble slice of it. Before he met you, he hadn't cared so deeply about anything or anyone. He hadn't known what to do when he fell for you, except sink his teeth in and never let go.
Just the thought of life without you made him so sick, he fell to his knees on the spot. He fought his shaky voice and managed to utter an apology, begging for a chance to correct himself.
He isn't good with humility or patience or prostration. But he is honest. He does love you. He'll do anything for you, even act right.
You knew him well enough to believe his words. You also (rightly) pitied him. In the end you agreed that if he cleaned up his act, you wouldn't cut him off.
For now, he's on probation, seeing you once every eight days or so. He's not strong enough to go longer than that without being near you. In between those pressure control days, he journals, meditates, and reads self-help books. He'll even exercise more than he ever did before, because studies claim that it helps with emotional regulation. He thinks it's all stupid. He hopes it works and you think better of him. He continues this way for months.
The result? He isn't biting off your male friends' heads anymore. He isn't trying to monopolize your time. He doesn't obsessively check your location and text you like crazy. A touchy friend says hi to you at a cafe, and he doesn't get angry at them for interrupting and hugging you, he just says hi back. It's actually pleasant to hang out together in public again. For you, it's like the friend you made so long ago has actually come back. You don't ever say it, but he thinks you might believe he's actually over you.
He forgives you for that, and for the threat of leaving. He knows your peace is important to you, so you just said what you thought was best. And him...he'll stop with the outbursts, bury all of the feelings he's wrestling with. See? He changes for you. How many of your ex friends and lovers can say the same?
But there's nothing you can do about your missing possessions ex post facto. He still struggles, like anyone with bad habits. There's always an urge to come closer to you, to cradle you to his chest, to kiss you stupid. Just...let him keep the chapstick and the t-shirts, at least. He can tide himself over with the lingering scent of your favorite products.
And, of course, the anger remains simmering under his skin. It comes in waves, he notices, after every doubt and concern. Your casual smile at another person, for a split second, makes his gut churn before the heat of rage washes over him. After he sends a text you don't respond to, his heart sinks, and then it catches fire. He's always scared first. Maybe the journaling isn't so stupid if it can show him these patterns.
The problem is, he can't kill the source of his fear unless he can have you all to himself. That's not happening anytime soon.
So he's still struggling his way through your time together. You hang out like normal people, having dinner at a new restaurant before strolling down the street on a cool summer evening. Almost no one is outside, creating the sense that you two exist in your own little pocket dimension. You decide to go down a little alleyway, a shortcut that never presents any problems.
Somehow, a throw-away comment of his makes you laugh, and he wants to take the sound and inject it into his veins. The glory of your approval is bittersweet. He dreads the way this night will end: with you going to your place instead of coming home with him. It is all he can do, not to break the unspoken barrier between you. He wants to be optimistic. He wants to say that it's enough if you're happy, beside him right now.
As if you couldn't be happy elsewhere. As if he could be.
He can't handle thinking this way anymore, so he looks away. Just for a moment. Just to take some breaths and be something close to functional.
That's his big mistake.
The second you cry out, he turns back. You've been knocked to the ground by some staggering man, who trips over your leg and lands against a trash can. He must have come from the bar down the road because he reeks of bottom-shelf liquor.
"Son of a bitch!" The man growls. "Watch it! Watch where you're fucking going! You think you own the fucking street?"
"Fuck you!" You respond, trying to push yourself up off the ground. You hiss and stop, bringing your hand up to see that the palm is a scraped mess.
The drunk man mumbles some more curses at you and, in a fit of dionysian inspiration, kicks you.
It's not a hard blow. He's hammered, and totally out of shape besides. And maybe he never meant to hurt you at all—maybe he's just being childish and weird, his inhibitions drowned by a night of heavy drinking.
It doesn't matter to your friend.
His body has moved, he realizes, as he stares down at a pulpy mess. It used to be a face. His knuckles are raw, split from overuse. It feels like nothing at all. You're hurt, though, and the perpetrator is still breathing, so he needs to do something about that.
Without a hand gripping his collar, the drunk man splatters on the ground. He doesn't have the wherewithal to protect himself from further attacks, so with no resistance, your friend can just swing his foot into a perfectly vulnerable stomach. He does. He does it again. And again. And in the middle of this, even in his high-running emotions, he finds a sense of clarity that he's rarely afforded. Finally, someone pays the price for touching you. What a relief it is to have something nice and solid absorbing all the rage that he's always stuffing down.
You have apparently been calling his name nonstop. He only notices now as he's being yanked back by the arm. Like a spell is wearing off, he hears your voice. You sound far away, at first, the way you do in dreams. As he becomes aware of his pounding heart and aching knuckles, your muffled voice becomes clear.
"What the hell are you doing? Stop! You'll kill him!"
He's obedient, if you recall, so he stops. He turns to you, panting and shaking out his hand. Strangely, you flinch and back up. Your eyes are wide, your mouth pressed shut.
You've...never looked at him that way. He's irritated and embarrassed you, but nothing he's done has ever scared you.
He should worry about this, but he can't help smiling. You're so cute when you're frightened. You belong in his arms, where he can keep you safe.
He pulls you into him and squeezes you tight. As much as you do tremble, there's not an ounce of resistance from you as he does this. You are having the same epiphany is him right now—that he would never hurt you, that anyone who did would pay sevenfold.
But while he is imagining himself as your knight, you're thinking of all the strangers and friends who may be unkind, however briefly, to you. You're thinking of how sharp this man's memory is and how casually you complained about exes or classmates or coworkers when you thought everything was okay.
"It's okay. You're safe," he whispers into your hair, relishing the close contact.
He's going to stay good for you. It'll be easy now, knowing where to put all the excess energy.
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an evened score
jake jensen x fem reader
part two of a helping hand
words: 1.3k
warnings: jake motherfuckin jensen, explicit sexual content so **18+ ONLY** pls and thank, guided masturbation, use of vibrator, dirty talk, brief unprotected sex (don’t do that), crying during sex, multiple orgasms… uhhh, i think that’s it? but let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: this one is for you @bigtreefest 🫡♥️ i have no excuse for this except for the fact that i’m whipped for this man and can’t stop thinking about him. not proofread so any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated 🥰 xo
❀ part one
“Jake, please.”
Your voice is thin and weary, nearly a whine, as your chest heaves for breath.
Time has ceased to exist and has left you to spiral into a mindless, pleasure filled haze. Yet, even in the midst of the overwhelming good you’re feeling, there hasn’t been a chance of following those tingly, sparkly sensations to completion. No hint of satisfaction yet.
Perhaps you created a monster when you offered to lend a hand to your sweet Jakey, all those weeks ago, when the two of you easily slipped into more-than-friends. He’d been so shy still during the first few weeks, always taking what he was given and only sometimes asking for more, until you sat him down and told him you liked when he asked for more, when he took more. After that, he got a little more confident. More assured.
And now, in the present, you’re putty in his hands. He’s got you in the same position you first had him in; your chest resting against his back, settled between his muscled thighs. Jake asked you to show him how you get yourself off and it sent a new type of thrill down your spine, so you eagerly agreed.
Oh, how naive you’d been.
“Keep going, baby, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs in your ear, his lips brushing the cartilage tantalizingly.
You do whine this time, needy and drawn out. You’ve got three fingers in your pussy, thrusting them at an uneven pace, face full of heat at the audible squelching sounds it creates. In your other hand is a small bullet vibrator that you’ve been lightly grazing on and around your clit, not wanting to put too much pressure on such a sensitive spot, especially when you’ve already come twice. You’ve been torn between begging to stop and begging for him to fucking do something already, especially since he’s—
“Just thinking about how warm you are inside,” he says, gruff, his chest rumbling beneath your back. “How your pussy squeezes me so tight. Never felt anything better in my life.”
As if it’s responding to his words, your pussy clenches around your fingers, and you bite your lip to hold back your whimpers. He’s been whispering all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he finds you sexy, everything he loves about fucking you, and you’re reaching your breaking point. You can feel his cock, so fucking hard and pulsing at the small of your back, but he won’t do anything, fuck, you’re almost crying out of pure frustration. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat as you struggle to keep your legs spread.
“I’ve had so many fantasies about you,” Jake confesses next, softer in this admission in a way that highlights his lingering trepidation of being so bold with you, but all it does is make you finally let out that whimper and have your head falling limply back onto his shoulder. “Wanna… wanna try so many things.”
“What—“ You stop and gasp when the vibrator hits such a perfect spot, body locking up before you force yourself to relax. “What kind of things?” you manage to get out several seconds later.
He hums, dragging his lips across your neck, stopping occasionally to lick and nip at it. “Thought about seeing how many times I can make you come on my tongue only, in one night. Thought about fucking you against the windows, so everyone could see how well I take care of you. Wanna bend you over the couch, or the counter, or any other flat surface so I can watch your ass bounce while I fuck you. Wanna—god, I wanna spank your beautiful ass and leave my handprint there like a fucking brand.”
His hands finally begin to wander your skin, his own breathing picking up as he voices his imagination. Your fingers have since stopped moving, mostly because your arm is tired, but also because everything he’s saying is making you lose your goddamn mind and you can’t focus anymore.
“Wondered if you could keep my cock warm in your pussy while I finished up some work. Or maybe in your mouth. You’d be such a good girl for me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” you cry, nodding and turning your face into his neck to desperately mouth at whatever you can reach. “Jakey, please, I need more.”
He coos, kissing your forehead. “Your fingers aren’t enough, are they?”
You shake your head and whine, because he’s right. Your fingers are nothing compared to his. They’re thin and kind of dainty, where his are thick and so good and long. But even his fingers don’t compare to his cock. Oh, sweet merciful jesus, his cock. You’d write and perform sonnets about it if you knew Jake wouldn’t combust from embarrassment.
“Okay,” he relents, “c’mon, you can have my fingers.”
The moment the words leave his lips you’re removing your own and lifting them to prod at his mouth, which he opens immediately. He groans, guttural and greedy, as he sucks every bit of your taste off of them. Yours still trapped between his lips, he wastes no time plunging two of his fingers into your dripping wet pussy, moaning when you flutter around them straight away. Your jaw slackens from the switch, hips fucking forward into his hand before you even register that you’re moving and your own fingers slipping free from his skilled tongue.
“Keep being good for me,” he instructs, “keep using your toy on your pretty pussy.”
Tears gather in your eyes when you touch your clit with the vibrating tip of the toy. It’s so much, too much, and it’s not nearly enough either.
“Jake,” you cry, bringing your knees up and fighting against the urge to close them.
“Look at you,” he muses, free hand gliding down your torso and back up to pinch and tweak at your nipples, then sliding downward once more to wrap around your hand and guide your movements, applying even more pressure to the vibrator that has you jerking and sobbing his name louder than ever. “So fucking perfect. Fantasy can’t hold a candle to reality, baby.”
Your tears spill over as you cry and beg and writhe, for more, for everything. Jake shushes you gently, curling his fingers inside you to rub incessantly at the spot that makes you sob pathetically, keeping those vibrations directly on your clit.
It’s sensory overload and your orgasm rips through you almost violently. Every bit of your being trembles and spasms, lungs aching as you sharply search for your breath, pleasure pulsing through you from the top of your head all the way down to your curled toes. The fingernails of your free hand dig into his meaty thigh as he coaxes you through the hardest orgasm of your fucking life.
It seems like it drags on and on and on. Your vision starts to go fuzzy and the noises pouring out of you become quieter and smaller, legs shaking as tremors wrack through your body. Jake continues murmuring sweet praises in your ear as he slowly stops moving his fingers and removes the vibrator. Like the strings of a marionette being cut, you fall back into his embrace, fighting to keep your eyes open.
“Baby,” he’s whispering urgently, and the last functioning brain cell you have takes note of the way his hips are twitching upward into you, “baby, please.”
You hum softly in assent and he’s carefully, yet eagerly, scrambling to get you flat on your back.
“I’ll be quick, I promise, I just need you,” he mutters as he lines up his gorgeous, thick, huge, fucking perfect cock and thrusts inside. You let out a pitiful cry and he kisses you. “I know, I know,” he croons, setting up a rough pace from the start, “we’ll take a rest after this, okay? But then I have more plans.”
You’d hit him if you had the energy. You’d protest and call him an insatiable fucking monster… but you both know you’d be begging for him within minutes, so instead, you let him wipe away your tears and suck on his tongue while he fucks the breath out of you.
#haha i’m in danger#jake jensen x reader#jake jensen x you#jake jensen smut#jake jensen fanfiction#jake jensen fic#jake jensen#HE IS INSATIABLE I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!#AND THAT IS A-OKAY WITH ME!!!!!
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The Thorns In My Throat Are For You
Description: a Hanahaki Disease AU, Reader is in love with Dazai and has been for a long while. They were in the port mafia but they left with Dazai
Word Count: 2263
Part 1
Next Part
TW: Character Death, blood, mentions of sickness, coughing up stomach contents, head over the toilet
~~~
“Odasaku!”
Everything was at a standstill. Oda’s body fell to the floor just as Dazai reached him. It took another minute for your body to react, sprinting to Oda and occupying his other side.
Dazai gasps at the blood on his hands. “I can’t believe you. You’re such an idiot.” He says, tears welling up as he speaks, but they remain brimming along his eyelids.
You’re quick to apply pressure to the wound on Oda. A gasp threatens to escape your mouth as you feel the deep wound and the blow flowing effortlessly past your efforts. Regardless, you keep your hand planted there. “Why would you go off on your own like this? Why didn’t you wait for backup?”
Oda grunts, raising one hand to rest atop yours, and another hand to Dazai’s, who rests his hand on Oda’s cheeks. ���There’s something I need to tell you both.”
“Not like this!” Dazai yells out.
“Wait to tell us after we get you a medic.” You say with a softer tone, not having the heart to yell. You also know that what you said was a lie. Oda was slipping away, and there was nothing that anyone could do for him.
“Quit it both of you!” Oda looks at Dazai. “Remember how you told me that you committed yourself to violence and bloodshed in hopes of finding a reason to exist?” He then turns to you, not giving Dazai a chance to reply. You see the pain in his eyes. “And how about when you told me that you thought you found your purpose in life by serving the mafia, even though you hate their tactics?!”
“Who cares about that now?” Your lips wobble.
“Neither of you will find what you’re looking for.” You and Dazai let out soft gasps in shock. “You’re both smart enough to know that. It doesn’t matter what side you’re on. Nothing in this world will be able to fill the nothingness inside you. Try as you might, but that darkness will always be there.”
A few breaths is all that passes your lips for a moment.
“Odasaku.”
“Tell us what we should do.” Dazai’s voice gives away his grief.
Oda grabs a hold of both yours and Dazai’s in one grip. “Protect people. If both sides are the same, then become good people. Protect the vulnerable. Help some orphans along the way. I know that the concept of good and evil doesn't mean much to you, but at least it’ll make your worlds a little more beautiful.”
A sob breaks from your mouth, tears cascading down your face. You can't control them, and by the looks of it, Dazai’s about to break his composure too.
“You can’t know that.” He says, voice deep as he tries in vain to hold back his tears.
Oda scoffs. “Of course I can. Because I know my friends better than they do.” He looks at you. “I know what they hide from each other.”
You stare, wide eyed. He’s known. You don’t know how long but he knows your crush on Dazai, there’s no other explanation for that expression of his. You turn your gaze to Dazai, who continues to stare at Oda as he begins to take his final breath.
That night, when you left the mansion, you both agreed to follow Oda’s advice. You left with the memory of Oda, and his last words carving their way into your heads as a promise. You didn’t return to mafia headquarters. Avoided all territory that the mafia had laid claim to. Coats and accessories were left with Oda as a final goodbye to Mori.
Weeks went pass in a blur. The two of you stayed in an underground facility, designed to house though without a home. Truthfully you could afford a house, but you didn't want to leave any paper trail behind for Mori to pick up and hunt you down from. You picked up community chores for some change every now and then, to blend in with the community and to pave your way to fulfilling Oda’s wish.
One day, as you were coming back from completing a task, you began to cough. It was normal for people to cough, especially considering the air underground wasn’t the best, but what came out of the cough is what surprised you.
“What?” You stare at the petal in your hand. It’s small, a baby petal that didn't get to continue its growth. It came out of your mouth.
Questions flood your brain but you push them back, pocketing the petal out of sight.
When you enter your home, you see Dazai adorning a soft smile.
“Hey. You seem happy. What’s the reason?”
Dazai hums. “Oh, I had a chat with someone today. I asked him if there are any job offers out there that can have us help people. He suggested a detective agency in Yokohama. It sounds like a nice place. And to top it off, they have a skilled business permit, which means free use of our abilities!”
You let out a breath of relief. “That’s great!”
“Though there is a slight problem with that.”
You tense up again.
“We have to remain undercover for another 2 years in order to clear our records. But he said he’d put a good word in for us.”
“Oh. I mean, at least it's something to look forward to!” You try to lighten up the mood. Walking up to the kitchen table, you take out the money you earned for the day. “We can do it, it’s not like we’ve been doing it for a few months anyway. What's another couple years for a clean slate?”
Dazai smiles. Your heart flutters at the sight.
“That’s the spirit!” He walks to the door. “I’m going to take a stroll. Don’t stay up for me.” And with that, he's gone.
You take out the petal from your pocket, examining it further.
“Why now?”
~~~TimeSkip~~~
You’re sitting at your desk, typing when Dazai approaches you. “What do you say we have a celebratory dinner for our acceptance into the agency? Just you and me.”
Your heart stammers, but you mask it with a playful smirk. “Dazai, are you asking me out on a date?”
Dazai chuckles. “Of course not!” Ouch. “I just want to celebrate the start of a new chapter in our lives!”
With a nod, you stand and follow him out the door. He ends up taking you to a small restaurant. Nothing too fancy.
As you gaze at the menu, wondering what to eat, you can't help but to flick your eyes up at Dazai, taking in his mesmerising features being lit up perfectly by the dim lighting of the restaurant. Unsurprisingly, he notices.
“Is there something on my face?” He questions.
You look up at him properly, a confused expression plastered on your face for a brief moment before it's replaced by a smile. “No. I’m just taking in how much you’ve changed in the years. You look more happy, natural, like you belong here.” You put down the menu. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re… shining.”
Dazai stares blankly in silence, processing your words. He then barks out a laugh. “What flirtatious words!”
You didn't even intend them to come out that way, now you’re fighting a blush from forming on your cheeks.
“I didn’t think I had changed that much.” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table and his face propped up by his hands. “Well I think you’ve changed as well. You’re not following any orders now, you aren’t a duckling who willingly follows its mother. You are paving your own path now, making your own choices.” His voice dips a bit lower. “You are becoming your own person, not the one people want you to be.”
Out of everything he could’ve possibly said, you weren’t expecting that.
“You really think I changed that drastically?” You ask.
Dazai nods. “Back then, you followed me like a lost puppy. If Chuuya hadn’t taken up the mantle, I would’ve started calling you my dog.” You scoff at that. “You obeyed without question, a simple pawn in everyone else's game. Honestly, I didn’t think you would survive long on your own with me. I thought you would’ve continued listening to me without question. But you didn’t. You took initiative. You picked up a sword and started fighting your own battles. You became independent in such a short amount of time I was beginning to think you had been kidnapped and replaced by a doppelganger. But being in the agency, I’ve come to realise that you’ve grown up. You stepped up to the role you needed to take without any guidance. And for that, I’m proud of you.”
Tears shined against your eyes, and you were certain that Dazai could see them, but you fought them from sliding down your cheeks. You were speechless, trying to form any word of a sentence in your mind, but nothing came to. Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish.
Thankfully you weren’t left in embarrassing silence for long as the waiter came by to take your order. The two of you ordered your food and drinks before going back to silence. Although it still felt a bit tense for you, it was comfortable.
Dazai soon struck up conversation, discussing the details of his exam and his opinions of the agency’s members, going on an annoying tangent on Kunikida.
When the food and drinks arrived, you dug in, enjoying the freshly prepared meal that wasn’t cheap nor was it expensive. It was a nice change from the food you endured the past couple of years. It was refreshing.
You were nearing the end of your meal before you started choking. You cough violently, covering your mouth quickly so as to not spit everywhere on the table. Dazai looked at you with concern. You wanted to assure him you were fine, but your stomach came to interrupt.
Abruptly, you stood up and bolted for the bathroom, hand firmly clasped over your mouth.
You slammed open the door, dashing into the nearest stall, barely being able to lock it before turning around and spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You hover your head over the toilet for a few agonising minutes, gagging over the toilet with the occasional violent cough. Finally, you feel something in your throat give away and splutter into the bowl.
Having the time to breathe, you open your eyes, catching sight of the contents in the bowl. You’re accustomed to gross sights and things that make you question your sanity, but you weren't accustomed to the sight of the pristine petal laying gently on top of it all.
It looked to be a bloomed petal, snowy white scattered with droplets of blood. It was beautiful yet dangerous.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
A frantic knock at the door sounds from the bathroom door before you hear it open.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?” A female server asks.
Without thinking twice, you flush the toilet. “I’m okay!” You stand up on shaky legs, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe your mouth. You notice a swipe of blood appearing on the fabric and you quickly scrub at it, trying desperately to make it disappear.
“Are you sure? Your friend said you rushed off without warning. Are you feeling sick? I can call an ambulance-”
You open the door. “No need to be that dramatic. I’m fine, just a wave of nausea.”
The server looks at you with worry. “Has our food been cooked incorrectly? I am terribly sorry, I’ll inform the manager and give your meal for free-”
You rest your hand on the stressed servers’ shoulder, calming her. “No need to stress. I was feeling a bit nauseous before arriving, so I don’t believe it to be your food, I think I may have tried to force myself to eat too much.” It’s so natural to lie, yet it feels wrong to do so. But you don’t want anyone to worry about you.
The server nods timidly. “Well your friend is waiting outside the bathroom for you. He seems quite concerned for your health.”
“Thank you.” You bow slightly to her before taking your exit.
“(Y/n)! Are you okay?!” Dazai bombards you almost immediately, getting close to you yet also giving you some space.
You sigh, a hand on your stomach as you fight the feeling of post-nausea. “I’m fine. I think I just tried eating too much.”
“You sure it wasn’t the restaurant's food?”
You shake your head. “I’m sure it wasn’t their fault. I’m not blaming them, their food was delicious, I think it’s just been simmering up all day. I might head off for the night, try to sleep it off.”
A few moments of silence pass. You can practically hear the gears in Dazai’s head turning, trying to decipher whether you're telling the truth. After what felt like ages, he relinquishes.
“Okay then. Let’s get you home. I’ll tell Fukuzawa tomorrow morning that you aren’t feeling well. I’ll have him give you a couple sick days to recover.” He moves to your side, offering support and guiding you out of the restaurant where he calls a cab.
You can’t focus for the rest of the night, you don't even notice when Dazai tucks you into bed and leaves you alone in your dorm. All you can think about is the white petal decorated with twinkles of fresh blood.
“What’s happening to me?”
~~~
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated <3
#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#hanahaki disease#dazai osamu x reader#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai
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Dough-verload
-pokes head thru doorway after being gone for months-
I’m thinking about donut stuffings, as always, but not an ordinary donut stuffing. A hot, GREASY donut stuffing. I’m talkin’ Krispy Kreme, I’m talkin’ state fair stalls, I’m talkin’ melt in your mouth fried dough that sits in your stomach like concrete.
I want someone lounging in bed or on a soft, cushy sofa, a stack of fresh donut boxes either sitting next to them or on their lap/belly. When you’re that comfortable, a mindless show or movie on in the background, it’s sooo easy to shove donut after donut in your mouth, not caring how much melty icing gets on your hands and face. They melt into sugary, oily pools on their tongue, eventually clogging the back of their throat with all the sugar, so NATURALLY they have to get (or have someone else fetch) a glass of milk or an equally sugary drink to wash it down. The cycle continues, donuts disappearing almost faster than they can be grabbed, so soft and warm they practically slide down the character’s throat.
When you have fresh, heavenly donuts like that, you can NOT just leave them to get cold. The stack of boxes looked intimidating at first, but the doughy morsels go down so easily and so quickly, the stack doesn’t stand a chance. At one point, the character is piling the donuts up by twos, threes, even fours and smashing them into their mouth to get the greasy goodness into their stomach faster. Their belly, meanwhile, is in distress. The donuts are incredibly rich, the syrupy glaze irritating their stomach and instantly bringing bubbles and burps to the surface. When they’re shoveling donuts down that fast though, burps are having a hard time actually making it up their gullet. Through a mouth packed full of dough, the character lets slip a gurgling belch, followed by a sharp hiccup. It’s only then that they pause to grab their struggling gut with a sticky hand, cupping the distended side and feeling the roiling gurgles. They have another hand however, so the donuts keep coming. They’re still warm at this point, but now the glaze is starting to harden, giving the dough a crisp shell that crumbles when they take a bite, falling down their chin and onto their bloated stomach. The donuts are also starting to catch in the character’s throat…they’re running out of room, and steam.
Mouth so full there’s bits of dough poking past their lips, the character slumps and moans. They can barely breathe through both the pressure against their organs from their swollen stomach and from the sugar and oil caught in their esophagus, huffing pathetically through their nose. There’s one donut left in their hand, and it’s dangerously close to slipping from their sticky grasp and onto the floor. Their other hand is desperately clutching at their swollen stomach, rubbing at the sensitive underbelly as the crest of their stomach emits nonstop whines and rumbles. Grease and dough fills every nook and cranny of their stomach, threatening at any moment to crawl back up their throat. They’re hiccuping every few seconds now, which not only upsets their churning belly but also pushes sickeningly sweet sludge closer to their gaping, gasping mouth. Weak, breathy burps fill the gaps between the hiccups, doing nothing to free any room in their packed, swollen gut. They’ve rubbed the stretched skin so much that it’s coated in enough glaze to make their belly look like a massive donut hole.
When the sugar coma wears off, they’re in for a world of hurt. Cramps, cramps, cramps, deep inside their intestines as the greasy dough gets churned through their guts. Every time they burp, they’ll taste oil, probably for days after the fact. The visible layer of fat that’ll wind up on their sore belly might make it all worth it….
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