#not to mention the silhouette??? the chain???? fuck yeah
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finally my obsession with zoot suits becomes useful
#spider man: across the spider verse#spider punk#spider noir#hobie brown#noirpunk#DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT ZOOT SUITS#they’re fascinating the history is just. ouujhghghghhh i love it#not to mention the silhouette??? the chain???? fuck yeah#plus… green carnation… wink wink#green carnations as a subtle queer symbol also fell out of use round the 20s i think but i like it so#also zoot suits are technically a late 30s/40s thing if i remember right but leT ME HAVE THIS#theyre going on a date to a langston hughes reading <333#yknow how every spidey seems to have a borough?? like miles has brooklyn and gwen has chelsea#well. noir has harlem#IMAGINE IT. NOIR RIGHT IN THE THICK OF THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE#I NEED IT TO BE REAL#im so happy i get to incorporate my interest in the roarin 20s#into this magnificent ship. fucking fantastic for me#poem on hobie is love again blues by literally guess
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Still Yours ( Toxic Jack )
Collab with @jackssneakylinkk I hope y’all love this and I loved working with my friend 🤍😌
It’s been about 3 months since the last time you’ve spoken to Jack. The two of you broke up due to the fact that he was just toxic, you were tired of feeling insecure in your relationship with Jack and tired of being alone.
Jack didn’t take the breakup well seeing as he was calling you non stop when the two of you broke up but eventually he stopped calling and texting when he realized you no longer were going to entertain him.
Druski’s been your best friend since diapers so he invited you over to his new place for a party. Once you arrived to Druski’s place with your friends he immediately grinned seeing you and hugged you.
“What’s up little player? I haven’t seen you in a minute it feels like. How have you been?” Druski asked as he pulled you in for a side hug.
“Well you know I’m here, I guess that’s all that matters.” You while shrugging your shoulders. Druski knew how painful and hard your breakup was with Jack but he decided that tonight he wasn’t going to bother bringing up Jack but he did forget to mention that Jack was inside.
Once you arrived inside you immediately stayed close to your friends Gabbie and Nomi just deciding on hanging with your girls. You really weren’t in the mood to be as social anyways.
“Hey isn’t that Y/N right over there?” Sunni asked Jack and nodded his head to the kitchen you were spotted at, taking shots with your friends.
Jack turned his body towards the kitchen and grinned seeing you in the kitchen. He licked his lips and mentally moaned at how good you looked. You had on some black booty shorts with a black crop top and to watch your black and white dunks. You even had the chain that Jack had gifted you for your birthday on.
“She looks so good I don’t even know how you fucked shit over with her.” Urban said and Sunni and Clay nodded in agreement.
“Said our relationship was toxic and draining and in a way I guess it was but she knows she belongs to me and that she’s still my girl.” Jack said matter-of-factly. That’s the thing Jack didn’t realize though, you weren’t his girl and had no intentions on becoming his girl again but he thought differently.
“I’m gonna go talk to her and see what’s up with her.” Jack told the guys they nodded and that’s when Gabbie noticed Jack walking your way.
“Don’t be scared but here comes el Diablo.” Gabbie said and your eyes rolled knowing exactly who it was.
“What’s up Gabbie, Nomi and Y/N.. I was actually going to see if I can talk with you real quick Y/N? Outside or something.” Jack said with his hands deep in the pockets of his sweats, he rocked on the heels of his shoes waiting for your answer.
“We have nothing to talk about Jack, please just leave me alone.” You told him he sighed and grabbed your hand softly making you stiff under his touch.
“Please baby, I really need to talk to you.” He begged and before the way he begged and pleaded with you would make you putty in his hands but you knew better now.
From my peripheral vision I can see the silhouette of someone walking up to me and Jack, as they gets closer I get a better view of the person who happens to be Druski “is everything good?” He questions looking at both of us with a red solo cup in hand and I don't take my eyes off of jack.
“Yeah” I tug my hand out of Jack's grasp, feeling my body relax a little as I release myself from his touch. My gaze turns to meet Druski’s before I turn to walk away“ I’ll see you around dru”
I look over to find Gabbie and Nomi who are only about 9 feet away with their eyes already set on me making sure I was okay in Jack’s presence. I sit on the bar stool next to Gabbie and they look at eachother and back down at me “what did he say?” Nomi breaks the ice.
“Nothing, I didn’t let him talk... Can we just enjoy the night, it’s been a good minute since I’ve seen druski” they all agree and we grab drinks before going to look for druski somewhere around the house.
The night takes a turn and I actually start to enjoy it, catching up with druski and other mutual friends that I haven’t seen in a while. It also helps that Druski doesn’t fail to make us laugh.
The time passes by so fast when you’re enjoying the moment so by the time I look at my phone it’s close to 3 am and decide to call it a night saying bye to the people around me.
“It’s really been a minute since I last saw you. The last time I saw your crazy ass you were dat-“ I give him a look before I cut him off.
“Now dru, You better be choosing those words wisely”I take a sip of my drink and everyone around laughs.
“Alright now calm down, I’m glad to see you’re doing good. You better be around more often” I hug him.
“I will”
You walk out with both Gabbie and Nomi debating who’s driving back and you make it clear that it’s not gonna be you so walking ahead you sit in the passenger's side waiting on them to get in but Jack had other plans.
“Gabbie, Nomi,..” he called out to them, making them stop in their tracks and you sit in the car distracted by your phone unaware of what’s going on outside of the vehicle.
“You guys have to give me a moment with her” he gives a look of desperation making them give in.
“You get 2 minutes” nomi responds before Gabbie can get a word out.
Jack races over to the car opening the driver side door and you being distracted on your phone you don’t look up assuming it's either Gabbie or Nomi.
“On the way back can we stop at- what are you doing here?” You're taken back by seeing Jack sitting in the driver's seat where one of your friends we’re supposed to be seated.
“Baby, I just need a minute” he reaches to hold my hand but I pull it away out of his reach.
“Don’t call me baby, Jack, it’s been 3 months. There’s nothing to talk about” I look outside the window ignoring his presence.
“Please baby, you know I didn’t mean any of that shit” Jack grabbed onto your thigh softly giving it a squeeze, his hands trailing upwards towards your core making you shut your legs tightly making him smirk.
"See you really wanna forgive me ma stop acting all tough and shit." Jack told you before you scoffed pushing yourself up against the car door.
"I'm done with you Jack. I don't see things getting better between the two of us. Its over, it’s been over.” You went to reach for the car door but Jack was quicker than you. He reached over you and slammed the door before grabbing your face softly but he still had a firm hold on it.
"Who gon' leave who?" His baby blue eyes looking at you intensely which scared you.
“Get the hell off me Jack what’s your fucking issue we are no longer together nor will we ever be together.” You spat at him and Gabbie quickly opened the door making you finally relax knowing she was here.
“It’s time for you to go Jack and to never come back or bother Y/N again.” She threatened and Jack rolled his eyes before looking back at you one more time before getting out of the car and leaving.
“You okay babe? I’m sorry we shouldn’t have let him talk us into coming in here.” Nomi said and you shrugged your shoulders and hugged yourself.
“It’s okay guys let’s just not talk about it I just wanna go home.” You whispered and they nodded before pulling out of Druski’s driveway.
Once home you showered and got changed before going to bed you checked your phone and looked at your phone in confusion seeing a message from an unknown number.
“I meant what I said Y/N you’re not leaving me.” Your eyes winded not believing he was this insane. You quickly blocked the number and tried your best to sleep that night but it was hard you had a feeling someone was watching you.
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Dear Billy: how did you end up with such a fucking stranglehold on this show? Rest in Pieces you fucking dweeb.
1.) These agents are terrible at talking to teenagers.
2.) I wanna brush Jonathan’s hair. Just because it looks like he hasn’t done it in a while.
3.) I am glad Max is admitting it as soon as she figures out that she’s cursed. I think everyone at this point is tired of the ‘got bit by a zombie and hides it’ shit. Like yeah, she hid headaches and shit, but those are normal trauma things.
4.) Yeah, you wield that lamp, Steve.
5.) I know it’s mostly for the audience but Dustin saying they have bigger problems and then looking at Max should be absolutely incomprehensible to Lucas at this point.
6.) Erica is painting a mini and I love her. Oh Jason is talking to her. Erica, kick Jason’s ass. But also, ERICA, DON’T FUCKING TELL PEOPLE THAT SHIT. GODDAMN IT.
7.) I adore Steve’s ‘a little humility’ line and then sitting down like that. Lmao
8.) Murray is right. You can’t be late to a ransom exchange. That’s kind of dire. Also, you’re in Alaska. They’re in California. What the fuck are you gonna do for your kids from here?
9.) I haven’t mentioned in a while that stranger things or Netflix or both filmed in a holocaust site and then turned it into a tourist airbnb. That’s fucked up, y’all.
10.) of course the boring feds are watching boring golf.
11.) Mike, you literally can’t even tell Will that you need to tell El that you love her. How are you gonna tell El that you love her?
12.) Jonathan’s got PLANS. PIZZA PLANS.
13.) Does Argyle give that pineapple spiel every time?
14.) Lucas, Steve, and Dustin are all idiots if they didn’t immediately recognize these as goodbye-I’m-dead-we-failed letters.
15.) since when does max know a good lawyer. Is it Saul Goodman?
16.) Robin can not walk in heels.
17.) Robin to the rescue with an infodump filled with some laws. It actually works. I’m in love with Robin. Does anyone else think Nancy fell just a tiny bit in love with her after that speech? Loved the low five, btw, babes.
18.) ???????????????????????? Ok Yuri.
19.) Actually I’ve done a rapid turnabout. I love Yuri. He’s a goofy little cartoon man.
20.) Hopper with a stick vs guard with a gun. Who will win? Obviously hopper. Oh god, not the gross foot again. And now the sequel, Hopper with a chain vs guard with a gun. Well, a guard with a gun and then a wrench and then a gun again. Damn that gun was loud.
21.) Hopper did you not put your shoe back on?
22.) THat fucking explosion was hilariously big.
23.) None of these Russians can. Aim for shit.
24.) Hey, kids, I know one of you is cursed, but could you wear your seatbelts?
25.) I love Max so much and I’m gonna rip Vecna apart just for hurting Max. But also why did her mom just kind of leave her there zoning out???
26.) Robin and Nancy are a dream team.
27.) oh they fully copied Silence of the Lambs for this shit. Lmao
28.) Is that Robert Englund? I recognize him from his voice and silhouette. Oh hell yeah it is him. Casting Freddy Krueger in a role like this is actually very fun. Also the way they did his makeup/prosthetics is once again way cooler and more interesting and dare I say creepier than literally all the Vecna corpses combined.
29.) [emotional, tender music playing] over Will and Mike’s little talk. Friends. Best friends. Sure.
30.) Oh damn. People with guns. Honestly this is too much stress to put a fun stoner under.
31.) Okay Hop has a bit to go to get to the fucking church. Oh nvm. He’s like, there already.
32.) This escape is brought to you by JIF’s creamy peanut butter. When you have a busted foot and are on the run from Russian guards, there’s only one type of peanut buttery goodness that will keep you going.
33.) HEY. DUFFER BROTHERS. IT’S NOT SHOCKING IF YOU HAVE EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PLAN IN THE SHOW GO TO SHIT.
34.) The timeline of this season is extra stupid.
35.) Flashback time. “This was a SPAWN OF SATAN!!!’ It killed a rabbit. Like yeah later it turns into hallucinations but at first it was literally just killing small animals. Virginia’s death is so fucking goofy. Oh, Victor Creel was a war criminal. Super not understanding why Henry Creel did all this shit.
36.) Oh, my girls have been found out.
37.) March 29, 1967 to July 4, 1985. Here lies a dipshit.
38.) Max, I love you, but this dream is a tiny bit stupid.
39.) I don’t think the Duffer Brothers have ever mourned someone they hated. Especially not a family member. If I ever rewrite this scene, I’m going in a very different direction.
40.) Steve’s Overprotective Dad Senses are tingling. And he’s RIGHT. Also, I just realized that their eyes don’t go white, they go milky. Their eyes aren’t even rolled back. They go milky and bloodshot for some reason.
41.) Can we talk about how Billy the Racist Shithead got to be in this show and come back way more than LITERALLY EVERY OTHER DEAD PERSON COMBINED? Fuck this douche.
42.) Okay I’m gonna be real with you, but if Billy turned into Vecna, I’d laugh my ass off.
43.) Robin is the one who figured out the music.
44.) I love the music thing but I think there should also be the option of beating Vecna if you just fucking forgive yourself.
45.) Me walking through Vecna’s nightmare mindscape: Hey, have you ever seen that one melting clocks painting? Fuckin’ wild, right? I think you’d be into it. Anyway, I’ve done worse to myself, you ABSOLUTE FUCKING AMATEUR.
46.) Like for real, have the Duffers ever truly hated themselves? Because these Vecna visions have been kind of tame in comparison.
47.) The montage of moments actually is very cute.
48.) I bet some freaks on ao3 have done weird tentacle porn about Vecna.
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The Night, The Flame
Summary: You come home to an unexpected visitor.
Word Count: 2,114
Warnings: femme!reader, sub!reader, dom!Henry, pussy eating, pussy worship, cigarette smoking (y'all already know lmao), degradation, edging, overstimulation, brief mention of consensual somnophilia, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, kinda dub-con if you squint I guess, possessive!Henry, insecure!Henry because it's me & I have to do that shit-- fuck, I think that's all, but let me know if I need to add anything else!
A/N: Uhm. Cannes. That is all.
Your apartment is dark and silent when you arrive home. It’s late, and after a night out with your friends, all you’re thinking about is a shower and straight to bed. You don’t notice that things are a little off—the door to the coat closet slightly ajar, a half empty glass sitting abandoned on the kitchen island, the small decorative glass ashtray usually kept on the coffee table missing.
You don’t notice until you spy movement from the corner of your eye, out on the balcony. Your heart leaps into your throat for a brief moment as you freeze in place, but then a split second later you recognize the lean silhouette, as well as the tell-tale orange glow of a cigarette.
Henry.
You sigh in relief, and just a little bit of annoyance that he’s startled you. You hadn’t been expecting him. Walking over to the sliding glass door, you open it up to peek your head out at him. He’s sitting in one of the patio chairs, long legs resting on the balcony’s edge as he overlooks the view of the city. He’s wearing nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs, wavy hair blowing in the slight breeze; you wonder, idly, where the rest of his clothes are.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you finally say when he fails to acknowledge you. He takes another deep drag of his cigarette before reaching one long sinewy arm out towards the patio table, where the ashtray sat. He taps off the excess ash; you notice that the little container is already half full. How long has he been here?
“How did you get in?” you ask, not quite knowing what else to say.
He hums, the sound low and quiet; still doesn’t look at you. “You gave me a key.”
You blink, but then—yeah. You had given him a key. A “just in case” key he hadn’t wanted to take. Just in case what? he’d asked, making a face at the object like it offended him. You hadn’t really had an answer. Just in case you want to see me. Just in case you need me. Just in case you want something more than this.
Henry had been giving you the best orgasms of your life for four months straight, but the man was so broody and flighty that you didn’t dare bring up a relationship. Didn’t dare ask him to stay. The only outcome would be disaster, this you knew. So, instead, you’d said: in case you’re antsy after a show and want to come fuck me while I’m asleep. And oh, how his eyes had gone dark and hungry.
He’d taken the key.
But, of course, you’ve forgotten about that. Because it’s been two months since then and he hadn’t used it once (at least, that you’re aware of, and doesn’t that send heat down your spine?)
You stand there for a moment, watching him smoke; somewhere in the distance a police siren cuts through the low hum of night time traffic. Henry stabs the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray and promptly lights up another, the flame momentarily bathing his face in light. A deep breath, then he’s leaning his head back, letting smoke curl up towards the heavens. His dark hair falls over his slim shoulders, ones you knew were decorated with freckles you couldn’t see.
Why was he here? What did he want? You try to think, to remember if he told you something about tonight—he’d had a show. A new set of some sort, a new venue. And now here he was, three in the morning, half naked and chain smoking on your balcony. Your gaze traces over his form, recognizing the tension in his jaw, his back.
“Bad night?” you ask softly, gently. You want to reach out and caress him, to soothe him, but you aren’t sure if it will cause him to flee. You compromise your urge by moving closer, but not too close, settling in your own chair across from him. He doesn’t answer but at this point you don’t expect him to—he was in one of his moods. You gaze out at the cityscape with him, waiting for him to finish, for his inevitable leaving. Maybe he’d just needed a place to clear his head.
After a while you feel yourself starting to get a little sleepy—you’re beginning to consider grabbing that shower and telling him to let himself out when he’s done with whatever it is that he’s doing—when he stands. You jerk your head over to look up at him, arching a brow in question. He brings his cigarette up to his plush lips, studying you, eyes dark and wild. It makes you feel cornered; makes you feel like prey.
Henry always seems to have this effect on you.
Silently, he grabs the throw pillow he’d been reclining against, and then leans down to stub out the rest of his cig. You track the movement, watching the soft glow of the embers scatter close to his large fingers. There’s a brief moment of suspense where neither of you move, blink, breathe—and then he’s stalking towards you, a lion going after it’s kill.
He tosses the pillow onto the concrete floor in front of you, and then he’s kneeling on top of it, right between your legs. You feel your face start to flush, and you instinctively press your thighs together as you look around furtively. “Henry.” Your voice trembles, breathless already; he hasn’t taken those eyes off of you. “Henry, don’t.”
He ignores your warning, strong hands gliding up your calves and under your dress, gripping your thighs and prying them open. You gawk at him, but he’s not focused on your face, not anymore.
“Henry, someone will see.” You try again, pushing against his grip; he pushes right back, keeping your legs spread for him. His eyes roam over the sheer white lace of your underwear, and his lip curls up into something akin to a sneer.
“What’s this? Hoping you’d find someone to show these to tonight?” His fingers press into your skin as if to accentuate his words. You frown at him, and start to speak, to tell him no and to stop being an asshole. You don’t get the words out. Anything you’re about to say flies out of your brain when he presses his face between your legs, planting his mouth over as much of your cunt as possible.
You squirm in your seat, letting out a little whine. He works his jaw, sucking on you through your underwear, and you know the fabric will be sopping wet in no time with how messy he’s being, letting the lace capture his saliva. He presses his nose right up against your clit—inhales deeply and lets out a low groan. It’s possessive. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest.
“Fuck, Henry—“ you curse, moaning softly when he rubs that stupid perfect nose up and down, up and down, taking his damn time, his breath hot where it fans out against your skin. “L-Let’s go inside, please?”
He bites the inside of your thigh in response, and then suddenly he’s wrenching your underwear down your legs. He tosses them over his shoulder and you yelp when they go over the side of the balcony.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap at him, but then he’s shoving your legs up and back until your knees hook over the arms of the chair you’re in. When he looks up at you his eyes are ablaze, his hands pressing at the backs of your thighs, his big thumbs opening your pussy to the cool night air.
“You’re gonna sit right here and let me taste you.” His tone is dark and demanding, and you look down at him in disbelief. Your mouth opens to say something—anything—but then he’s yanking your forward by your ass and burying his face into your pussy. He doesn’t start out slow; apparently, that’s not the mood he’s in tonight. Instead, he shoves his tongue into you as deep as he can, rubbing his nose against your clit—and even still, he’s grabbing at you so hard you think he’s trying to get deeper.
You clench around him and he moans, moving to suck messily at your folds. You’re hyper aware of how fucking noisy it is, the way he’s eating you—slurping at you—and your face feels like it’s on fucking fire. Christ, what if one of your neighbors heard? What if they saw? You clutch a hand into his hair, hips rolling up into his mouth without your permission.
Henry seals his mouth over your clit and sucks hard, tongue beating out an insistent pattern against the bundle of nerves. You gasp, wriggling against him, and he just holds you even tighter, nose pressing into your pubic bone in a way that surely can’t be comfortable.
“Oh shit.” You whisper, voice breaking as you try to stay quiet. You’re already close, somehow, just on the edge, thighs trembling—and he fucking knows it. He fucking knows it because he stops that gorgeous rhythm, presses his tongue back inside and groans at the taste. He starts the process all over again and you’ve never hated him more.
He does the whole thing twice more before you’re making incessant, involuntary little noises, still making a futile attempt to stay quiet. Henry looks up at you as he circles your clit with the hard point of his tongue and for some reason that’s what does it. You clap a hand over your mouth as you cry out, the noise close to a sob. He’s snatching your hand away in an instant, his fingers wrapping all the way around your wrist, holding it tight.
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ muffle yourself. What the fuck’s your problem, huh? Don’t want anyone to hear what a little slut you are? Don’t want anyone to know how good I make you feel?” He’s speaking loudly, voice carrying into the night. He grabs your other wrist, holding them both and squeezing so hard you think they might bruise. “You fuckin’ ashamed of me?”
That seems to cut through the haze in your brain, and you manage to shake your head at him, holding his gaze. Of course you weren’t ashamed of him. Why would he think that? Henry seems to flounder for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected those particular words to come out of his mouth. But then he lets out a growl, and he’s leaning forward, spitting right onto your pussy.
You gasp, clit throbbing as you feel the liquid trail over your skin. Henry uses the index and middle digits of his free hand to push his saliva into you, his fingers following as he stretches you out deep, deep inside. When he looks up at you he’s composed himself, back to his normal guise of control. “Let them hear,” he snaps, “I want them to hear.”
He gives no warning before he’s setting a frantic pace with his fingers, fucking you with them harshly. You let out a shaky cry, and he gives you a sharp grin.
“Louder.” He demands, his own voice rising in volume. “Scream my fuckin’ name.”
You do, you do, lost to the merciless pace of his fingers inside you, to the wet squelch of your cunt as he hammers your g-spot. You can’t escape his touch, can’t escape the intensity of his gaze as you cum all over his hand. Henry fucking laughs, the sound ringing out over everything else. “Listen to that sloppy pussy. You’re gonna bounce on my cock right here until I fill it with cum, and then I’m gonna fuck you again over the railing. You’re mine.”
He doesn’t stop, even when you sob out from overstimulation, body shaking with it. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, and he lowers his mouth to your clit just in time to bring you to a quick second orgasm. Your thighs close around his head as you scream for him, just like he wanted—you don’t even recognize the sounds you’re making.
When your legs finally fall back open to release him, Henry pulls his fingers from you into his mouth, sucking at them as his dark eyes stay trained on your slick folds. You’re panting loudly, all pretense of politeness forgotten as you focus on him. He reaches out to brush a feather light touch over your pussy, humming low in his chest when you twitch for him. “Pretty thing. I bet my cock’s gonna slip right in.”
You bet it will, too.
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taglist friends!
@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @peachyproserpina @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @cornmousequeen @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku
#i have lost my goddamn mind you guys#i wrote all of this at work last night in a feral fever dream#so anyway#henry mchenry x reader#henry mchenry x femme!reader#henry mchenry x female reader#henry x reader#henry x femme!reader#henry x female reader#henry mchenry smut#adcu fanfic#henry mchenry fic#adcu#cw: smoking#cw: overstimulation#cw: somnophilia
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soooo a trailer for The Wolf Among Us 2 dropped-
-and I am giddy.
While I’m mostly a twdg blog, I like to dip my toes in the Telltale pool and talk about other games and I mean, c’mon I can’t NOT talk about this trailer okay. How long have we waited for a sequel twau? Only for them to announce it, but then for Telltale to bite the dust? Now new Telltale is gonna give it to us and the trailer looks super good??
Also I still need to get the bad taste of the Clementine Book One trailer outta my mouth sooo.... here we are, I’m gonna go through this and give some thoughts.
If you haven’t watched the trailer yet, you can here.
Unknown: “You’re listed here as a private investigator. What does that sort of work entail?”
Bigby: “Depends on the night.”
Bigby: “Most nights it’s watching, waiting for a slip up. I don’t know, someone gets greedy. Someone gets brave. ”
Okay! First of all, Adam Harrington is reprising his role as Bigby which thank god. He brought a lot of charm to Bigby in the first season and I can’t imagine anyone else giving a voice to this world’s big bad wolf.
Also the aesthetic... A big draw about the first game was the neon but noir aesthetic. It felt very graphic novel, very detective true crime, y’know? Which yeah, that’s what the game was and Telltale nailed it.
Unknown: “And that’s what you were doing the night of the incident?”
Bigby: “Yeah. Took me weeks to track them down.”
AHHHHHHHHH LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT THAT DAMN SMIRK
Okay but the jacket.
Bigby and Louis share the same taste in jackets I can’t-
Bigby: “They hadn’t cast so much as a shadow.... ‘til that night.”
God, the colors and the shadows... the way Bigby breaks the chain and his silhouette... we’re only 45 seconds in and this trailer has my heart.
Unknown: “You’ve been hesitant to share with us... I assume it has something to do with confidentiality associated with the job.”
OKAY YES... in case you can’t tell yet, we’ve got the goddamn Tin Man and Scarecrow, and maybe Dorothy [though I’m unsure, it could easily be another woman from another fable] but the Tin Man was the cloaked figure running through the rain and fucking Scarcrow is hitting a bong..... I CAN’T
And just when you don’t think it could get better.... it’s revealed that Bigby is in a therapy circle as he recounts this night.
Bigby: “......Something like that.”
I’m assuming this is perhaps an anger management therapy group? going off what the lady leading the group says later. I love this idea.
Honestly, after all the bullshit Bigby went through in the first game, I like seeing him somewhere where he can open up a little bit.... it’s just a shame that it’s not a fable group so he’s gotta hide the fun details.
I just wonder if this particular case is what got him sent here, y’know? Like did Snow send him here because things went wrong and she’s tired of his approach to things now that she’s the boss lady? Or was he sent here prior to this case?
Unknown: “Your boss, Miss White, said things didn’t go as planned. She mentioned that there was some violence.”
This fight though.... God, let this be one of the first fights we get to experience. Let this whole thing be the opening to the game. I’m already asking so many questions: what the hell did Tin Man and Scarecrow do? What shady business is Scarecrow into that made Bigby only arrest him? Why aren’t they glamoured? IS that Dorothy on the couch? Or someone else?? If we’re dealing with characters from Oz, does that mean Buffkin is coming back??
Don’t get me wrong, the opening of the first game was compelling with getting the call from Toad to take care of Woody and meet Faith..... but c’mon, look at this fight!
Also, can I just say that Scarecrow’s teeth freak me the hell out??
Oh and uhhh..... where is the Cowardly Lion?
Unknown: “In the moments when you find yourself losing control...”
Unknown: “...how does the anger manifest itself?”
I don’t know for sure who she is, maybe she IS Dorothy given the braids she wearing and obviously she’s hanging with Tin Man and Scarecrow, but the lady chilling on the couch with the grin? I already love her. She doesn’t give a single fuck that Scarecrow is running around on fire or that Tin Man just threw Bigby through the wall. If anything, she’s amused by they whole thing and loving the sight of the big bad wolf.
Tell me more about her. What’s her involvement? I need to know.
y’all
Y’ALL
I’m trying to tone down my excitement but like.... I adore this trailer and I have all of my fingers and toes crossed that the actual game is good. It’s set to come out next year, it’s still gonna be in episodes, Bigby is in therapy, Wizard of Oz characters are in it, Snow is coming back and hopefully I like her more this time around than I did in the first game.....
The music here is great, too. Just... everything is good. I can’t tell if I’m overwhelmed with how good this is because the Clementine trailer broke something inside of me but who cares! I’m excited to play this when it comes out!
What do you guys think? Lemme know your thoughts/predictions for this!
#non-twdg#twau2#i'm excited#again i'm trying to tone the excitement down#it's still a while away#but still#long post
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Homebody (Ch. 15)
Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...
Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thic OC
Warning: Language
Side note: I fell off big time I know so forgive me for that and this is a short chapter because I decided to make the next one long.
*Location: Providenciales, Turks and Caicos*
Walking into the lobby of the famous Palms Resorts, Amiyah looked around stunned at the beautiful interior. Greeted by the Turks and Caicos citizens and employees of the hotel she received a fresh alcoholic beverage from a silver tray. The colorful and cooling drink made her mouth water. Taking a sip she closed her eyes as she visited paradise.
“Welcome to The Palms Resort! Where we hope your stay is everything you’ve dreamed of.” The woman on the other side of the desk smiled acknowledging them.
Amiyah, Kelley, and Durk walked to the counter. All three with their complimentary drinks in one hand and pulling on to a weeks worth of luggage in the other. Their flight had landed over an hour ago and it took them a little less than half an hour to get to the place where they would be staying for the week.
“Thanks! I have a few rooms booked under the name of Derrick Lewis.” Durk smiled speaking to the clerk and pulling out his I.D.
She returned one back taking his card and went to her computer to type in his name. It took her less than a minute to see the reservations before handing over their room keys. Durk gave her a slight head nod thanking her and then turned towards Amiyah and Kelley who were standing next to each other with wide grins. It was nothing but pure excitement clouding over their faces.
“Alright listen up. I only got two rules. Don’t go breaking shit in the room and don’t go getting nothing out of the refrigerator or mini bar that they have in there. Not tryna have y’all running up my card.” Durk spoke calmly pointing the room key in their faces.
Kelley kissed her teeth. “Durk she is grown and it’s her birthday tomorrow. If she want to get a drink from our bar that’s in our room then she can.” She went for the key but Durk moved it out of her reach.
Looking her up and down at least two times Durk chuckled before turning towards Amiyah.
“Miyah you wanna tell me why your friend, who ain’t pay for shit, speaking for you? That’s what I’m confused about.” He replied sarcastically.
Amiyah grinned stepping in between them. She politely took the room key from Durk and handed it to Kelley.
“Alright okay. We get it Durk. You paid for everything so we’re gonna respect your rules. Okay? We’re all just here to have a good time.” She smiled rubbing his arm.
“That’s all I want, is some respect. At least someone gets what I’m saying.” He directed his speech towards Kelley who simply rolled her eyes at him before walking away towards the elevators.
Durk shook his head watching her leave and laughed.
Amiyah pushed him lightly by his shoulder.
“Durk can you please not act like an asshole to her on this trip? That’s my best friend and I really want her to have just as much of a good time as me.”
He waved her off. “Ain’t nobody thinking about that girl. She got a problem with me for some reason and I been feeling her energy since we arrived at the airport back at home.” He went back towards the entrance and checked his phone.
Amiyah sighed knowing what he meant. Kelley did have some sort of dislike towards him. Mainly because of the time he put her out knowing that she had no where else to go. Before then Kelley never cared too much or know much about him besides hearing his name ringing throughout the streets and discovering that her new best friend was his younger sister. But the moment Amiyah went to Kelley’s door crying she knew that she wouldn’t find herself getting along with Durk at all.
Following behind him Amiyah stood on his side. Scooting closer she leaned her head on his shoulder and holding on to his left arm. She smiled looking up at him before speaking.
“I really appreciate this Durk. None of it would be possible without you.” She glanced at him looking into his eyes to let her know that he was very much appreciated.
Durk smirked trying to nudge her off but failed
“Get off of me girl. Damn.” He snickered.
“I will once you come with us. We’re tryna see our rooms and you’re waiting out here for what?”
Amiyah wondered why he has still yet to move. There was no need to stand at the entrance unless he was waiting on something or someone.
“I’m going I just have to make sure he gets here first.” Durk answered checking his phone for the third time.
Confused but curious Amiyah asked. “Who’s he?”
“Oh yeah I forgot to mention that Erik was meeting us.” He replied nonchalantly.
Within an instant Amiyah felt the butterflies invade inside her stomach. This was an off guard moment that she didn’t know how to receive or handle. Why wasn’t she aware of him tagging along on her birthday trip? Did he asked to come? Specifically for her? She had so many questions and thoughts running around in the back of her head but she simply pushed them to the side not wanting to make it weird for her to ask them aloud.
She sent a small smile. “Why? Why is he coming?”
Durk shrugged. “He wanted to be here to celebrate your birthday tomorrow. As well as other reasons but yeah.”
Amiyah nodded her head. “How did he get here? I didn’t see him on the plane or at the airport.”
“Since our flight was booked my mans had to drive another state over to another airport just to make it here around the same time. I know for damn sure he came out of pocket trying to get a tick at the last minute.” Durk chuckled.
Amiyah joined him as she was flattered to hear about the effort Erik put in just to be here. She hadn’t seen him since the night he came over to speak with Durk. In the inside Amiyah was hoping that this trip could not only get them back together but to come out and tell her brother about everything. Maybe it was a good thing that he decided to come after all.
Interrupted from her thoughts she heard Durk shout out.
“About fucking time. Welcome to Turks and muthafucking Caicos!” Throwing his arms up he walked towards Erik who was getting out of an all black sprinter with other guests.
Amiyah took in his appearance. He was wearing a short sleeve navy tropical print collar button down shirt that was opened showing a wife beater underneath. With his famous gold chains hanging around his neck. For his bottoms he wore white drawstring shorts and a pair of white forces to finish the look. He sported a black Nike book bag off his shoulder as he went up to Durk greeting him with a dap. When he smiled Amiyah could see the gold on his teeth peeking past his lips.
“Aye a nigga happy to be here.” Erik laughed going in for their brotherly hug. Glancing up he spotted Amiyah standing behind him next to her luggage.
Amiyah flipped her freshly done knottless braids to the side with her drink still in one hand as she held eye contact with him. It was different and intense. It was a look that she hadn’t seen in a while. In fact it was the same way he looked at her the whole night when she went to his place for the first night. Even a blind person could see that the look behind Erik’s eyes was pure desire and need.
When she came to realization Amiyah glanced away ending the staring competition.
“That’s a fact. So where’s shorty at?” Durk pulled away gaining Amiyah’s attention.
“Right here!”
Following a high pitched voice, all hope that Amiyah had in her body completely went out. There was Harmony standing next to him with the prettiest glow she had ever seen. Her hair was gorgeous as she rocked the goddess locs. Her silhouette showing past her floral maxi dress. Nails and lashes done to perfection. Of course she was his guest for the week. It only made sense. They had to be a couple.
Feeling a sting in her chest and burning in the back of her eyes Amiyah wiped away the feeling of defeat and walked over towards her brother.
“Hey Erik. Harmony. Nice to have you guys here.” Amiyah put on her best smile. She didn’t really mean it but for the sake of keeping peace on her trip being cordial was the best option.
“Thanks for letting us join you guys.” Harmony spoke up. She went in for a hug.
Us? So she must be speaking for the both of them now.
Amiyah thought returning the kind gesture.
“It’s no problem. So I’m gonna head to my room and change and probably go to the pool after. I’ll let you two check in.” Smiling she turned on her heels walking to her baggage. When she gave a glance back she saw him staring into her eyes with sorrow. Amiyah shook her head and went towards the elevators.
-
“Girl I have to give it to him...this room is the shit!” Kelley stated opening the door to let her in.
Amiyah viewed the room. First thing she noticed when she walked in was the decked out kitchenette that opened up to the livingroom area. Across from that was a bathroom and bedroom on the other side. The door was opened and bags were already placed on the bed so Amiyah figured it was Kelley’s room. Walking past the livingroom there was another door that was closed. Amiyah opened it. Her mouth dropped as she entered the master bedroom that had a balcony facing the water.
“Yeah I figured you would want this room.” Kelley said as she helped her with her bags.
“I love it, but you know I would have been fine with either one.” Amiyah smiled walking to the glass sliding door. She opened it and stepped out on the balcony. The scent of the ocean hitting her nose.
“Well you’re only getting the finest shit while we’re out here because you deserve it. Happy birthday sis.”
Amiyah turned around to see Kelley holding up four miniature bottles of alcohol. She smiled shaking her head at her friends stubbornness.
“Kelley where did you get those bottles?” She giggled lightly taking the two that was being handed to her.
Cracking open her drinks, Kelley shrugged. “Where else? The mini bar out of the fridge. Now drink up.”
They collided their bottles together taking one after the other. Amiyah made a face towards the bitter drink. She could feel the liquor warming her body up. After the long flight all she wanted to do was wash up and put on a bathing suit to go take a dip in the pool. Going back inside of her room she threw the empty nips away. Grabbing her suitcase and putting it on her bed she unzip it and searched for one of the many swimsuits she packed. Her favorite color caught her eye.
Pulling out the light purple two piece set she also took out a sheer white bottom covering. Amiyah grabbed her toiletry travel bag and went to the bathroom. When she came to she stole a glance inside of Kelley’s room as she saw her getting ready as well.
After an hour of continuous switching in and out of the bathroom the duo was finally ready and leaving out of their room suit. They strolled towards the elevators in silence and only pulling out their phones to record snapchat videos. Kelley hit the button that goes to the lobby while the two waited for the cart to come up to their floor level.
“Hey by the way Erik is here just to let you know.” Amiyah spoke up coming to the remembrance of his presence from earlier.
Kelley’s brows knitted. “The hell. Why is he here?”
“I guess he wanted to be here to celebrate my birthday.” The doors opened allowing them to walk in.
“But that’s not all. He brought his friend, Harmony, here with him. You remember the girl from the Valentines Day bash?” Amiyah stated jogging her memory.
Kelley nodded folding her arms. “Okay now why did she have to tag along? They together or something?”
Amiyah shrugged her shoulders as her reply. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure if they were but from her coming on this trip with him it only had her thinking that they were. Why else would she be here with him? It probably was a baecation for them. Amiyah sighed as she stressed herself with all of her questions.
The doors to the elevators opened as Amiyah and Kelley made their way outside towards the pool area. Already filling up with the other guests it was beginning to get crowded. Finding an empty spot on the lounge chairs Amiyah and Kelley decided to sit a few feet away from the bar.
“I’m about to get a drink. You want something?” Kelley asked standing up pulling on her pink neon swimsuit.
“Yeah get me something that’s fruity but sneaks up on you.” They laughed in unison.
“Okay, I’ll be back.”
Amiyah watched her walk away. There was a line that was already formed so she knew it would be a while before Kelley came back.Taking of her sandals she kicked her feet up to lay back on the chair. Their spot was right by the shade so the sun wasn’t beaming on her so much. Amiyah’s gaze scattered around, watching nothing in particular, but at all of the guests having a good time.
Enjoying the good music along with the warm breeze that blew every few minutes Amiyah relaxed into the chair. Her eyes closed to get the full vacation experience which she found to be peaceful was just as quickly interrupted by a shade blocking her from the sun. Her eyes jolted open to find out what was the cause.
“Sorry to intrude on what seems to look like a blissful moment but I couldn’t help but to come by and introduce myself.” A tall dark and handsome man spoke with a hand out directed towards her.
“I’m Ryan.�� He waited for her to shake his hand.
Amiyah gave him a few blanks before introducing herself as well.
“Amiyah.” She replied softly. His hand much larger but soft cradle hers gently before bringing it to his lips to kiss her skin.
Blushing she looked away towards the bar to see Kelley still in the long line. She wasn’t looking at her for help but just to see if she noticed her being approached by the stranger. Amiyah quickly turned her attention back on him.
“Beautiful name miss. You’re from The States right?” He asked with a southern accent that she caught on to.
“Yeah I am. What about you?” She smiled politely.
“I’m from Georgia. Decatur to be exact.” He gave his soft pillowy lips a smooth lick.
Taking a seat on the lounge chair next to her he placed his towel that he was holding down next to him.
“So what brings you to Turks and Caicos?”
“Birthday. It’s actually tomorrow and I’m out here for the week celebrating.” Amiyah’s hands became clammy under his stare.
“Oh Happy Birthday. Mind if I ask how old you’re gonna be?” His voice was soothing and calm but dangerously low just how she liked.
“Uh 22.”
“That’s what’s up. So you like to party Amiyah?” A smirk grew on his face.
Sitting up a tad bit in her chair she looked at him confused.
“Somewhat. Why you ask?” She giggled out of nervousness.
Ryan shrugged. “A pretty girl like you I figured you would. But you can’t possibly be out here alone. You must’ve come with someone right. Like a friend?”
Before she could answer Amiyah heard a deep voice interrupt.
“Yeah she came with me my nigga.”
Looking behind her she saw Erik now in a pair of all black swimming trunks and Nike slides on his feet. He had a bucket hat on to cover his eyes from the sun. He was holding a Corona beer in his free hand as he sipped not taking his eyes off of Ryan. Seeing his abs glistening from what seems to appear as body oil Amiyah clench her thighs as his muscles flexed effortlessly.
Ryan glanced between the two. He looked at Erik before turning his gaze back on Amiyah.
“Damn and you was gonna let me talk to you knowing you had a nigga. That’s fucked up ma.” He shook his head.
“Hold on that’s not my man-“
“Baby just cause we had that little fight back in the room don’t mean we not together. Stop acting like a brat.” Erik cut her off sitting on her chair. One of his hands went to touch her inner thigh catching her off guard.
Ryan grabbed his towel and held his hands up in a surrender position.
“I don’t know what the fuck y’all got going on but that’s between y’all.” He stated and walked away.
Amiyah quickly slapped Erik’s hand away. She watched as he took a sip of his beer before folding over his lap and laughing.
“What? Why you looking at me like that?” He asked through his chuckle.
“Because you lied talking about some fight that we had in a room. Really Erik? Why would you say that?” She folded her arms.
Erik waved her off leaning on his left elbow facing her. “It’s not like you would have like the ugly ass nigga anyway. I was doing you a favor.”
“He was not ugly.”
“Well he damn sure wasn’t your type.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then what’s my type since you think you know me?”
“Nobody else but me. I’m the only nigga you should be fucking with.”
Amiyah couldn’t tell if it was him that was actually talking or the liquor. All she knows is that he was making very bold statements for someone who invited a female friend on a trip with him.
“Erik have you forgotten what you did? Bringing Harmony out here and yet you expect me to not meet or have anybody. You lost your mind?” Amiyah shook her head not believing the audacity that he had.
Erik sighed sitting up. “Amiyah it’s not what it looks like. I only did to throw your brother off. That night I came to y’all crib he was asking questions and getting suspicious. Next thing I know he asked me to come with you guys and I invited her.” He paused touching her hand gently.
“I promise it wasn’t to hurt you.”
The genuineness in his voice sounded sincere but Amiyah still couldn’t help but to be confused on why he would invite her knowing how she felt about Harmony. Her feelings were pretty clear the night of the party.
“Erik I know you’re not trying to intentionally hurt me but seeing her here with you just made me feel a certain way. We’re supposed to be here for my birthday week so excuse me if I’m having a hard time adjusting to this new person that came out of no where.” Standing up Amiyah started to walk away until she felt a hand grab her wrist.
“Miyah don’t hold this against me. I was really hoping we could talk. To straighten things out.” His stare became apologetic.
“I don’t know if-“
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A light voice shouted catching their attention. They turned to see Harmony walking towards them in her light orange bikini.
Amiyah’s eyes averted to her white painted toe nails. It was going to be a tough week to get through with her being around. But she couldn’t blame Harmony. Erik was the reason for her being here.
Erik smiled and nodded his head. “Yeah I was just out here talking to the birthday girl.”
Harmony sat her belongings down and wrapped her arms around Erik’s torso. Standing on her tippy toes she leaned up to kiss his lips. Erik caught off by the action pulled away and chuckled nervously. When Harmony noticed she made a face before turning towards Amiyah.
“Hey girl! You ready to celebrate your birthday tomorrow?” She smiled trying to start a conversation.
The moment Harmony was invited by Erik to go on this vacation with him she was shocked but thrilled about them taking the next step in their situation-ship. But when she found out the reason behind it she immediately had a bad feeling about going. Harmony wasn’t much of a fan of Amiyah. On the night of the Valentines Day bash she could feel the tension between Erik and Amiyah. It felt as if they had history and were trying to ignore it. She wasn’t suspicious until she seen them leave the V.I.P section one after the other. That’s when she put two and two together.
“I am. Tomorrow is gonna be great actually. I have a few things planned out for us. You know like Jet ski-ing, tubing, snorkeling, stuff like that.” Amiyah spoke through her forced smile. A relief came over her when she saw Kelley walking back with her drinks in her hand.
“Here you go. They said this was highly recommended.” She handed over a slushy drink that was in a cut out pineapple.
Amiyah happily received it and played with her straw before sipping. “Thanks.”
“Well all of that sounds fun and I can’t wait. I’m glad Erik decided to ask me to join you guys.” Harmony stated tugging onto him.
Kelley rolled her eyes and looked her up and down. Her gaze then shot to Erik’s who was wearing a guilty expression all over his face. She shook her head slowly and gave him a look.
“Yeah and I hope you enjoy your time being here.” Amiyah could feel a little bit of both hurt and jealousy coming over her. Putting on a poker face was the best way to hide her feelings.
“Durk told me that we were also doing a big dinner for you out by the water.” Erik finally spoke up.
“We are, you thinking about inviting anyone else?” Kelley asked him with her eyebrows raised.
Erik ignored her as he focused on Amiyah. He read her body language knowing that she was uncomfortable. He was starting to regret on making the decision of bringing Harmony along. He was only doing it to cover face instead of thinking about how she would feel.
Amiyah lightly brushed against Kelley hoping she would catch her drift. It was her way of signaling her to chill out.
“Yes Erik we’re having dinner and you both are welcome to join.”
“We appreciate the invitation girl.” Harmony smiled before turning to Erik. “Hey, let’s go to the beach. Please?” She pouted.
Erik chewed on his lower lip out of habit. “Yeah I was heading there anyway.”
“Perfect. Alright ladies, we’ll see you later.” Taking his hand she pulled him away towards the beach.
Kelley and Amiyah stood in place and watched the two walk away.
“Can’t believe the nerve of that nigga. That’s okay because we are gonna find you a new man for the week. Like the one that came and talked to you earlier.”
Amiyah turn towards her to see a smirk covering her face. “So you did see him?”
“Girl I noticed his fine ass the minute we came out here and I just know Erik probably fucked it up for you the second I seen him.”
Amiyah giggled nodding her head. “He told him he was my man.”
Kelley rolled her eyes. “Typical. But I spotted him on the other side by that grill and bar place. You wanna go see if he’s still there?”
Amiyah smiled knowing that her best friend was willing to do anything to get her back into good spirits. Taking a long sip of her drink she allowed the liquor to linger through her body making her relaxed.
“Let’s go.”
If Erik could have his fun then so would she.
______________________________________
Please excuse any mistakes! (Needs to be edited)
I know this chapter is short but next one is gonna be long and I’m pretty sure y’all know why...👀! Yes the wait is finally over in the next chapter!!
Tag-list (Let me know if you want to be tagged for next chapter in comments)
@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket @ladymac82 @efonteno @shalynn-m @joanna-doe @xsweetdellzx @beautifullmelodyxx @browngirldominion @rbhp @richonne4life @luvwitoutlimit1
#homebody#black panther#erik killmonger#erik smut#erik stevens#erik x plus size reader#killmonger fanfiction#killmonger x reader#truglori#black panther killmonger
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|FEVER| M|
Pairing: Namjoon X Reader
About- Namjoon just has a kink for letting you do whatever the hell you want with him...Whether that be putting him in a hot pink suit shirtless! Or, telling him he’s a good boy as he fucks you into oblivion!
OR- Namjoon and yourself hooked up 5 months ago when the boys were in London on Tour, and you were the creative director for there British GQ & Harper’s Bazzar Cover! Now, months later he’s prepping to release his second mixtape “RM vs Rap Monster”. Opting to go a complete 360 from his first release Mono in all realms. So, with that being said BigHit thinks he needs someone with a little more... “umph” Take a wild guess as to who they call...
WC:1.2k (Sneak peek)
WARNINGS: Switch OC (Top & Bottom...but there's no real dom/sub tones here) Service top/power bottom Namjoon, praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex(Back shot), come play, dirty talk, light choking, light overstimulation, (This is lowkey a little softer than it sounds) The OC kinda leads this, but Joon isin’t the cliché “sub” he just likes letting her take control.
NOTE- Just my take on the OG cliché Artist X Stylist AU (Though she’s more of a full package, Art Director/Stylist/Photographer ETC) I have tried to add some minor elements to make it a little more realistic. I will say I typically stray from “Idol-verse” just because if we’re being real, the cultural difference alone sometimes stunts my creativity...BUT I just had a little fun with this one...so I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I don’t go into much physical details but in my mind regardless of race, aesthetic wise the OC is a huge contrast to what he’s use to which is part of her appeal. I picture a tatted Barbie of some sorts...
SIDE NOTE: No shade, but shade, I was lowkey inspired to write this bc I have very strong opinions about the creative team at BH....
*** Let me know if you guys want the full thing or not...I kidna flaked on posting because it is such a cliché lol
SONG- FEVER DUA LIPA FT ANGELE
~~~~~~~
“Well, it’s a yes for me” Eyeing him in this Hot pink-fitted Burliti suit, which you paired with a very sheer black Arnar Mar turtle neck. The minute you saw the piece on the runway you’d been dying to get it on someone with melanated skin, and it just so happens, the boys are fresh off the US leg of their stadium tour! So, lucky for you, baby boy’s been in the sun a lot, and Namjoon’s currently a sinful shade of brown and you're totally here for it…
Then to top it off, the mesh material of the turtle neck creates the perfect silhouette around his offensively toned chest, outlining the muscles sinfully. Eternally snorting at the way the fans are gonna thank and curse you out all at the same damn time once they see the looks you’ve pulled for this man!
And yes, you had your crew bring extended shades of foundation and concealer, because his face and neck will match if your name is going to be attached to these damn photos!
Head tilted to the side as you silently observe the way he rakes over his reflection in the mirror, it’s a sixth sense you’ve acquired as a stylist at this point. Half of your job is essentially being a hype man/self love coach, real shit, a lot of these artist aren't always as...confident as one may think!
And just like clockwork Namjoon runs his palm down his thighs, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on his pants for the umpteenth time in the span of oh I don’t know 30 seconds? Which in turn prompts you to say….
“You look good Joonie...” Musing over your second glass of Don, the compliment was genuine, tone warm, soothing even, not a hint flirtation insight because that wasn’t your motive. You weren’t trying to get him flustered you’re just trying to gas him up a little, you wanted to see Namjoon get alittle cocky and feel himself!
Ears perking up like an overgrown puppy, head whipping in your direction “Yeah?” The way this man’s eyes just lit up like the soul skyline. I just-goddamn, an almost bashful smile toys on those plush lips of his, and you can’t help the way your chest flutters with nothing but fondness.
“So fuckin cute” Flutters off your lips, as you hide a smile of your own behind a half empty whine glass. The delivery was so faint it almost go lost in the background music floating through the air. However the slight flush hitting his cheeks let you know Namjoon heard you whether he wanted to admit it or not!
”Mmmhmm, the color looks fuckin insane against your skin, not to mention, the way everything's going to pop once we tone your hair a little! “ Eyes drinking him in from head to toe, though there was nothing suggestive playing within your iris. Very much aware of time and place and right now your genuinely looking respectfully! Seeing if any alterations are needed, making sure you like where everything sits along his frame. Making notes in your phone of places you want to pin and adjust later...snapping a couple shots here and there.
Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the lapels on the blazer “But like-I mean-I- dont’-It doesn’t look like I’m... trying too hard or anything?” Brows furrowed in the center of his face, jaw tight, wincing slightly at his own words, almost as if he was afraid of your response. The vulnerability within his delivery was more than evident, and no matter how common this is with artist, it’s still just as devastating! Regardless of how much he tried to play it off as if he was just making casual conversation, you can see how blatantly uncomfortable he is . Gazing back at you wide eyed, and uncannily exposed, pointing at the outfit in question. Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the the blazer, switching posses subtlety trying to get a better feel for the suit.
You stayed silent for a minute, taking the time to actually process before speaking which is rare, not gonna lie. Gaze piercing as you hop off the bed, wine, and accessories in hand, swaying closer. “It’s fashion”. The baited pause almost implied that’s all you had to say, as if one-word was self-sufficient, and in your mind it was...but you knew better than to just leave it at that.
“Art at its finest Mr. Kim” You smile something a little devious, and he flushes even deeper as you slowly start to invade his space eyes locked with him meaningfully. You can physically see the shift, the closer you get, Namjoon starts fidgeting slightly under your gaze but he doesn't back down.
“It gives you room to play, create...it’s something that let’s us connect to people without saying a damn thing.” Suddenly the hand that wasn’t holding your alcohol has become a prop, flailing around haphazardly as you spoke, pointing at the various pieces hanging on clothes racks in your suite! The penthouse has essentially been transformed into your own personal walk in closet for the next 5 or so days! “It’s a statement. A opportunity to tap into a side of yourself that maybe you can’t always verbally articulate to the world around you! More importantly, it’s supposed to be fun, it’s literally something that can be removed within seconds! I mean we all have to wear clothes so why not just enjoy it?” Head cocked to the side as you appraise him, brow quirked, eyes warm, yet there's a clear challenge playing within your gaze.
Namjoon’s watching you intently, almost as if he’s taking mental notes as you speak...the heaviness within those dangerously honed eyes of his could almost be unsettling to some, but you quite like it. Made you feel as though he actually gives a flying fuck about what you’re saying.
“In my opinion the only time it looks like someone’s “Trying too hard” Making little air bunnies with your spare hand “Is if they look uncomfortable in what they’re wearing, confidence is key, and I know you know that better than anyone RM!” You muse batting your lashes in Namjoon’s direction, and he dimples back at you, eyes sinking into tiny crescents, face rivaling the color of his suit, trying to hide said smile behind his own glass of champagne.
“I could put you in a damn clown suit...” Words trailing off your tongue lackadaisically as you grow distracted searching the bar for a specific chain from John Hardy. “Which” Focus snapping back in his direction making the later splutter a little “Would be fire as fuck if I did by the way, but-” Namjoon ended up cackling midsentence, almost choking on his drink in the process, fist pounding against his sternum.
Yeah..killing the leader of Bangtan wasn’t really high on your list tonight....
“Ayee, none of that shit...” Smacking him in the back a little more so just to be an ass because he wasn’t even choking anymore “Don’t die on me until we at least get this damn photoshoot done, I had to cancel my trip to Jamaica for this shit!”
Now he’s damn near choking and his laugh was contagious, it’s just.. loud, carefree so yes, your cackling, and there's nothing cute about it. But you honestly don’t care, you let yourself get lost in it! Finally able to feel the atmosphere in the room start to shift to something a little less scripted and a little more organic...
Throwing his hands in the air as If he’s waving a nonexistent white flag “I’m sorry, noona” There’s a pout playing in his lips, not exactly aegyo per say, but it’s fuckin adorable “Blame PD-nim, it’s his fault we had to do this so last minute” Wheezes from his throat, in the form of a slight whine, almost rivaling Jimin if I’m honest.
You already know he was laughing more so due to your delivery, specifically, your casual use of profanity over anything else. This is actually something you use to be self-conscious about, especially at your first shoot with the boys, at the shoot for GQ . Well aware it wasn’t as common in Asia for people especially women to use “fuck” like a comma. So you were hoping they wouldn’t be offended, or uncomfortable by your dialect, and, thankfully they didn’t seem to mind. Much like Joonie over here, they found it entertaining over anything.
“Yeah, a huh, sureee...” Eyes rolling to the back of your head playfully as you start lightly altering the suit in question with clips and pens. “Stay still babe” The pet name slipped off your tongue effortlessly, honestly, that's what you call most people in your life. However you were far too focused to notice how wide eyed and flustered the man before you became upon hearing it directed at him so casually.
A faint little “Sorry” muses off his lips as he gnaws on his inner cheek, trying to stay still as you ghetto-rig hems into place until you can get this under your sewing needle.
“ No, but real shit…” You sigh, taking on a slightly more serious tone “If you step in front of that camera like you own the bitch, regardless of what your wearing..., then they can’t tell you shit! If your comfortable there’s no such thing as trying too hard” You shrug nonchalantly like that was the simplest concept known to man, downing the rest of your drink “Alright, that’s all, thanks for coming to my Ted talk” Waving him off as if you’re about to leave the room and he pouted playfully, jokingly begging you not to leave him yet...it felt good to be able to banter like this. The shift continuous shift within the atmosphere was more than welcomed…
Hesitantly you watch his eyes find their way back to the full length mirror, which promptly smacks you back to reality!
Unfortunately you didn't fly all the way to Seoul just to drink, and shoot shit with Namjoon for hours on end, your actually here to work…
Sooo...
“Alright” Placing your arms on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you peer over his shoulder. Meeting his gaze through the glass, chin resting gently against the blade. “Back to the reason you came Mr. “I’m sooo anxiously” Shooting him a teasing little smirk in the process “The suit, yay or nay”
So, here’s the thing technically the official fitting is tomorrow, and as far as his team knows he’s in the studio with Yoongi and Hoseok finishing up a song!
Which of course raises the question as to why he’s here..alone..mind you..no staff or security in site.
Just Kim Namjoon and yourself.....
~~~~
Heyyyy,
Lemme know if you guys want this or not, it will leave kinda open ended because it was supposed to kinda be a 3 part mini series initially. Part 1 ends the morning of the shoot, the full thing is set to be around 6/7k! Spoiler, the company is going to want to keep her around for more than just Namjoon’s solo project....
Also, YES...I did see that they actually put Tae in that Burliti suit (I wrote this long before that shoot was released)...I actually hated the way it was styled it though...I never thought I’d say this but MGK’s team did a better job than BH....
#Namjoon x reader#namjoon smut#namjoon x you#kim namjoon#kim namjoon x reader#kim namjoon smut#bts#bts smut#bts au#kpop#kpop smut#kim namjoon x you
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Awaken the World Part 2 (requested by anon) All for Love
Pairing: Wayv Ten (NCT Ten) x Reader
Warnings: Filth, a lot of kissing, masturbation, unprotected sex, a lot of it...
Word count: aprox 6k
*10043567901;1102033149001. PLANET DYVLONY*
The White walk, as they call it on DYVLONY, supposedly should be one of the most beautiful days in a person’s life. That of course depends on if you find someone to spend it together with. Wedding. A wedding ceremony of different kind, that’s what it is.
Today you were supposed to walk the distance hand in hand with Ten, but instead you found yourself knocked out and only later awake in a different place. You know the place though, this is where Detective Ten interrogates his criminals, and right now you had a feeling, you will be tortured the same way.
-You really are something, - a voice spoke but you couldn’t make out a silhouette yet, - I wanted to see you for myself, and I am very disappointed in Ten. His taste is not as I had imagined. Just tell me, how you did it?
You couldn’t speak yet either, so the voice continued.
-Ah, I wish it was me, you know, - she sighed, you understood now, it was a woman, and somehow her voice seemed too familiar. – I too know how to make a man happy, and before you, he was always satisfied. Did he do it to you? Did he tie you up here with these chains while he fucked you raw?
She pointed to the chains coming from the ceiling and laughed, waiting for your reaction.
-Did he cum inside you, or on your face, hun? – she bit her lip, - you know what he loves about woman is the way we beg, how we get on our knees for him. How I would lick the tip and swirl my tongue around his dick, he loved it when I squirted, he would take me on that table after, one dick in my ass while the other worked in my cunt. Ah, remembering it makes me want to sit on his face, and ride his tongue, he ate your pussy, didn’t he? Dirty bitch, you loved it, didn’t you?
You watched her more closely, but still couldn’t place a name to a face. You definitely had not seen her before. She sat on the table, her hands slowly working downward her trousers.
-Ah, Ten-ah, - she slipped her hand in her pants, a moan slipped passed her lips, while she touched herself, closing her eyes, she whispered, - so wet and ready…
Her moans filled the room, the wet squelching noise was there too, she was occupied with her own thoughts, while you tried to make sense out of it all, drifting away many moons ago.
*
-This is different, - Ten spoke behind you, while you ran towards the water at GYPE beach.
-It’s fun, Ten! – you giggled, dragging him along.
-No, - he sighed, - it is not, there is more fun things that I would rather do with you…
You turned around to face him, he had that smile on his face, when he was thinking of something dirty.
-Hey, - you shouted, - I know you, you pervert!
Ten grabbed you by your waist and tickled your sides, while you were down in the sand laughing your head off. His face somehow ended in between your breasts and Ten out of habit did a motor-boat joke, while you playfully smacked him on his head.
-Not here, Ten, we are in public, - you said.
-So what? – he got back at you, - I could take you here, and fuck all the consequences…
In his eyes you could see the truth behind his words. His smile was there again to tease you.
-I might give you something in return for taking me to the beach again, - you said, bartering.
-And what would that be, - he smiled, - remember, it must be so… so good to tempt me enough, yeah?
-Hmm, - you giggled, - how about…
You leaned closer and whispered in his ear.
-I could let you do to me whatever you like.
Ten bit his inner cheek.
-Very tempting, - you saw how his eyes changed, he was a predator, and you were his prey. He devoured you with his eyes, and later he would certainly devour your body, he leaned in to whisper back at you, his hand slightly touching your butt, - how about I play a little…?
You understood the meaning straight away, he fancied trying anal with you, and would slowly move you towards the idea every time you had sex. It started with his fingers playing with your butt, slowly turning into butt plugs, his taste for you was insatiable. Once you even proposed trying strap-on to work on him, which he turned down for “unknown reasons”, and you left it at that, not asking anything else.
-Maybe… - you said and ran towards the water, Ten had confused look on his face but he still chased after you, picking you up, bringing you towards water himself, - nooo, Ten! Not with clothes!!!
His face lit up at your words, and you made a mental note to rephrase all that you say.
-Not like that, Ten, I don’t want our clothing to be soaked, - earning a little pout from him, Ten let you back on your feet.
-Alarm, alarm! – Ten’s phone went off, and he stepped away from you.
-Detective Ten speaking, - on the other side he was greeted with Xiao Dejun from high court.
-Can we speak? – Ten whispered “give me a minute” and walked further away, while you sat down to wait a bit for him.
-Yes, I am listening.
On the other side was heard a sigh, and then a long pause.
-What’s up? – Ten said, - Is it a new case?
Silence.
-You alright over there? – Ten continued talking, - come on, tell me what’s up. Go on, tell me…
He was really dragging the words out of his friend’s mouth. Xiao on the other end was scrunching up his nose thinking of the best possible way to tell what was on his mind.
-It’s Anna, - he said, - she’s pregnant.
Ten would not believe the words he just heard. His face was dumbfounded, eyebrow arched, lips pursed together.
-I don’t understand, - Ten stated.
-Anna is pregnant with my child…
-What? How? Is it even… like how? – Ten abruptly stopped.
-I know, - Xiao spoke, - it just happened, and I am confused, but we are expecting, and I thought I let you know… I mean, this means you gotta wrap it up, can’t let the ninja in with no gear…
Xiao let in a pause.
-You know, it is ok, she feels fine, we already went to see the doctor, so we are fine, - Ten still couldn’t form a sentence. – it’s a lot to take in, I mean, you are a half-breed, how… uhm, can I ask this?
No answer from Ten’s side of the phone, and Xiao continued.
-Ten? You there? I don’t know, like, I mean, your mom… how did she get pregnant, how did they know?
Ten breathed in, putting his hand against his waist.
-My mom?
-Yeah, you know, with your dad, maybe there is something you have to know… before, like in advance…?
-I have no idea, man, honest… - Ten said, letting the information sink in.
“Was this even possible?” he thought to himself, turning around he saw you by the beach. Your hair was let down your back, the dress you wore reminded him of summertime, he saw children passing by, could you get pregnant?
Ten minutes later you were both in car, driving towards where Ten’s parents live. The trip to the beach was cancelled, but you hoped it was just postponed.
-Ten you look worried, - you said softly, - is everything alright?
He didn’t respond, instead, he jumped out of the car when you stopped at his parents. Like a gentleman he was, he opened the door for you and unbuckled your seat belt, taking you by your hand.
-Hello, wasn’t expecting to see you today? – his father greeted you both by the door.
-Can Y/N get pregnant?
His father was dumbstruck to say the least.
-Excuse me? – his father said.
-Excuse me? – you said the same time as his dad.
His father opened the door wider for you both to walk in.
-Honey, can you come downstairs, we have visitors…
His mom came down the stairs, seeing you and Ten she smiled.
-Do you want me to make anything to eat?
-No, love, come join us, - Ten’s father lead you into living room, where you sat down, you and Ten on one side and his parents on the other.
-Y/N, sweety, how are you doing?
-I am… - you started, - confused…
Ten stared at his father. His mother looked equally confused as you.
-What is going on? I am sure whatever this is, we can talk it through. – she stated.
-Ten it’s not that simple, - Ten’s father spoke.
-But it is possible?
-Me and your mother went through quite a bit to have you, so yes and no, but it is not that simple.
-What is going on, Ten? – his mother asked.
-Magistrate from high court called me, his human partner is pregnant…
You turned to Ten mouthing “what?”. Ten didn’t respond.
-I suppose the younger generation is different, - his father referred turning to you, - since technology seems to be more up to date, I assume, some things have changed in that department. Me and your mother used DYVLONY females’ hormones as well as perfect timing with her periodical cycle.
-So, it is possible?
His father nodded. Ten looked over at you.
-You are getting pregnant, - “I will stuff you full of my sperm”, didn’t leave his mouth, not to disgust his parents, and then he walked off.
-What? – you looked at his parents, facepalming yourself on the way, standing up and running after Ten, - TEN!!!
*
-Giselle? – you spoke softly.
She stopped straight away and stared at you.
-How do you know my name? – she took her hand out from her panties, - how the fuck do you know my name?
You were silent. She slapped you. Thank god she hit you with her clean hand.
-You called Ten, I remember your voice, it said on the screen, Giselle is calling, - you stated, and another slap reached you.
-I want him back, - Giselle said, - I WANT HIM!
She shouted straight in your face, grabbing your collar.
-But he doesn’t want you, - another slap on your face. It was the truth, though, Ten had made it clear with her, he had mentioned his partners before to you, not their names, but it made sense now.
Who else would kidnap you on your wedding day, right? But… did she know?
-Listen here you dirty whore, - she literally spat the words out, - I will do whatever it takes to ride his cock again, and no cunt of yours will stop me.
You laughed, receiving another slap.
-Something funny?
-Not really, - you said, - I admire your stupidity.
-Who? Me? Ha, ha, - Giselle straightened herself up, then you realized her height. She was tall and good looking for sure, it was clear, even to you. So why did Ten want you? All the insecurities were coming back, seeping through the pores of your skin.
You watched Giselle walk back to the table, wiping her hands in her shirt.
-Ten used to say, he cannot get enough of my nectar, - she smiled, remembering fond memories of nights with him. Sweating on the same table where she sat on now. She took a remote controller, you remembered it from the last time you were here. – tell me, who are you, and I might let you go, but… if I do, you can never come back here, come back to Ten I mean. You will get out of here and never return, right?
If she would understand that you are a different species, what would happen? She would kill you; she could do whatever just to get back at Ten, and if she let’s you go, is leaving Ten what you truly desire?
NO.
You… you loved Ten, with all your heart. Doesn’t matter that you only realized it now.
-Let us play, - Giselle whispered and pressed a button. Sharp stinging feeling reached your back, tears were flowing down your face, you held back a scream. Pain. So much pain.
*
Mornings with Ten was something else. Tangled together in the bed sheets after sweet love making, or even after a quickie before dinner. He would press kisses to your back, holding you against his own body, holding your hand. How he kissed your lips when you were eye to eye. He would let his fingers through your hair.
-I am serious about the baby, Y/N, - he said.
-Ten, listen, your father said it would be complicated thing to do.
-So what? I would want a baby from you, - he said back, caressing your cheek in sweet manner, your eyes travelled elsewhere. – what is it? Tell me, Y/N, come now, what’s up?
You bit your lip.
-Where I come from, but its not that important, - you lowered your voice to whisper, - I am not saying I want that but... I somehow feel like I…
Ten stared at you. He was trying to encourage you to speak to him, he leaned in to kiss you again.
-We should, - you didn’t look him in the eyes, - we should get married… - you finally managed to say.
Ten didn’t say a word. For his family the wedding happened only a few years after Ten was born. He remembers the day as well, even when he was around five years old. It was a simple ceremony, that included walk from chapel to the engaged couples new home (or the same one where they lived), while wearing white clothing, making wows in front of a priest, and signing some papers.
-You want that? – Ten asked.
-I… - you breathed in, - like I said, we don’t have to.
-But I am asking you if you want that.
You nodded. Somehow it made you feel shy. You were to accept Ten as your future husband, father of your children, if you would be blessed, a partner for life.
-Yeah, let’s do that, - Ten finally said.
-You are serious? – you looked at him with that “spark” in your eyes, that Ten had noticed you have when being excited for something. He nodded, leaning in to kiss your lips again. – hmm, are you saying that because you want a baby…? - you teased him.
-I want to fill you up so badly, you have no idea, - he said.
-I am pretty sure I have a clue by now, - you giggled.
-Are you sore? – he asked when getting up.
-Mmmh, - you nodded. All of the sudden you were on your back, with your legs spread opened. -Ten what are you…?
His lips kissed your inner thighs, you were trying not to cringe. Only after Ten licked up a strip between your folds, you breathed in sharply, your body was still sensitive from previous orgasms. Ten licked up everything, your essence with his cum, diving his tongue inside of your walls from time to time, to gather more of whatever he could get.
-I have an obsession, - he spoke softly. You looked up, propping yourself on your elbows. – I don’t know why, but I love seeing how my sperm drips out from you, I don’t know why… it turns me on so much, - with that he dove back in while you moaned out loud. Ten held your hips down to stop you from moving.
-I want your belly swollen with my child, Y/N, - his lips attacked your clit again, circular motion yet again bringing your body pleasurable pain and stinging. One finger eased itself inside you, your pussy clutching around it, while he massaged the spongy spot on your vaginal walls, with more and more motions with his finger, you were getting closer bit by bit. You could almost taste the mind-blowing feeling.
Ten added another finger, and another, now lost in making you come, moving his hands faster, latching on your abused bundle of nerves, sucking, till you swallowed your moans and came with a force so strong, it knocked the air out of your lungs. He thrusted more of his fingers while riding out your orgasm, when you started to open your eyes again, he was looming over you.
-Just like this, - he whispered kissing you. You could taste yourself on his lips. – I am ready to have family with you.
*
-Nnngghghhghhg, - you were holding it in, you needed to hold on, Ten probably was on his way to finding you, you just had to hold on a bit longer, he was a detective after all.
-Scream, bitch, - Giselle laughed over your pained expressions.
At that, the doors on your right opened, Detective Ten running in full S.W.A.T gear on him, gun in his hand. He was accompanied with other officers and a … priest?!
-Drop the remote and stand away from the girl, - Ten announced in a low voice.
-I don’t want to, you know, - Giselle poked her tongue in her cheek, - this bitch needs to die first.
She grabbed a hold of your throat choking you, pushing you more onto the needles in your back. Ten was acting fast, and soon Giselle was knocked down on her belly, her face pressed at the floor. Ten turned around to let his partner tie Giselle up, while he helped you. Once of the chair, you were taken to his car, soon in the hospital, Ten’s father by your side in the emergency room.
-She will be alright, you know, - his police partner said, Ten was pulling on his hair, pushing his fingers through them from nervousness.
After a couple of hours, Ten was greeted by his dad, who came to see him.
-She is ok, Ten, she just needs some rest, she got scared more than she got hurt, she is tough you know, - he leaned in, whispering, - humans tend to be like that…
His father put his hand on Ten’s shoulder, tapping on it lightly, unexpectedly, Ten’s hands reached around his father’s shoulders in a hug. He was crying. His father didn’t say anything, he let his son cry.
From the corner of Ten’s eyes, he spotted the priest. The priest who was supposed to lead the ceremony of White. Ten stepped away from his father, wiping his tears away.
-Sorry, - he apologized, priest came closer.
-I am sorry to disturb, - he smiled and walked closer, - I am sure you are quite shook at this time, but we should arrange another time for your ceremony, if you could take a look. We are busy at this time of year, so, it would be better to know… even approximate date will do.
-Thank you, pastor Kun, yes, let’s re-arrange.
They sat down on the chairs not too far away, Kun passed Ten paperwork, which he signed, sighing.
-About the date, I don’t know, really, - he whispered, - maybe in two weeks?
-Alright, - Kun said smiling, - I will write you down for Thursday in two weeks, if by any chance something changes, let me know, yeah?
Ten nodded, pastor Kun got up and walked away. Ten noticed a red strike on Kun’s neck, not too red to be a fresh scratch, but something else.
“What could that be?”
Later on, the nurses were trying to keep Ten out from your room, long story short- they failed. Ten was by your bed, holding your hand, kissing it, waiting for you to wake up.
-I’m ok, you know, - you whispered, and Ten got up.
-Do you need anything? – he asked, you nodded a “no”.
-Really Ten, I am doing good, the doctor says so, you can go home…
-No, - was his answer, short and simple.
-Give me a kiss? – you asked, and he replied with a simple smooch over your lips. – that’s not a kiss, Ten, - you laughed, encouraging him, pulling him closer to you. Your lips touched, and you deepened the kiss when Ten wanted to pull away.
-I am truly sorry for what she did to you Y/N, - Ten said between the kisses, - I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.
-I know, - you simply stated, - do not worry that much.
Ten sat back down on the chair. He looked lost.
-That bad huh, - you whispered.
-You don’t know how much I love you, - he stated, - I fucking love you so much, I cannot imagine my life without you in it, - Ten sighed, - I love you, Y/N.
-I love you too, - his lips crashed on yours again, - now go home and get some rest.
-Will do, - you could see the struggle, he didn’t want to leave you, but you mouthed a “good night” and he finally slipped through the door.
*
-I do.
-I do, - a quiet giggle left your lips after saying your wows.
-I pronounce you husband and wife, you can kiss your beloved now, - pastor Kun said, and Ten leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss that really sealed your marriage.
You started your walk then. Hand in hand, while looking at each other from time to time. Ten was smiling, and you were happy, some moments he let go of your hand just to hold you by your waist, or grab on your bottom, biting his lip in the process.
You took his hand in yours again and continued your walk.
DYVLONY people you met, greeted you with smiles on their faces and congratulations were in order, some kids even treated you with candies. Tens’ mom and dad disappeared after a couple of minutes and you walked alone.
Giselle was quiet in a prison cell, she heard that you were meant to marry Ten, her hate was a venom, but she realized the truth, which was indeed what you told her – Ten does not want you. She had to swallow that and move on.
Behind you, a bit further down, Xiao Dejun was walking hand in hand with Anna. Her baby bump was now visible, and Xiao’s hands kept massaging her belly with his other hand, he was wearing a smile that would not fade away.
It felt right at that moment.
Everything was where it should be.
Your walk was ending, a couple more minutes and you would reach your home. Ten squeezed your hand a bit tighter, taking it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. Him wearing white was a sin. You were ready to jump the guy once the house was reached.
Ten unlocked the doors, stepping in first, closing the door behind you both, leading you up to your shared bedroom. Once sat down, you made your way to sit on his lap.
-What’s going on now? – Ten asked surprised.
-Hmm, I was thinking, - you started.
-About what?
You were formulating a good answer, before kissing his lips, your hands around his neck.
-Fuck me Ten, - you spoke loudly, ready for everything, - I want your baby.
-What?
-Take me like you wanted to all this time, when you first wanted to impregnate me, - your voice was bold, you were sure of this.
-Fine, but there is no opting out now, do you understand, we are now married, so really you are mine…? – you nodded, Ten was serious, (behind of his serious face was actually a massive dork, who really wanted to fill you up).
-Yes, I am yours, but you are also mine, - you stated and kissed him again.
-Alright, - Ten whispered, - take off all your clothes, there won’t be a slow build up, I will give you all, and you will lie on your back and take it…
-What if I really want to ride you? – you said pouting.
-Nope, not today, - he said, - I have gathered a lot of information on this, so I tend to impregnate you, that’s my aim today, so don’t make me wait.
Somehow it made you hot, the heat creeping up your face. He reached to open the drawer, taking out butt plug and lubricant. You were stripping slowly on purpose and Ten clicked his tongue.
-No, - he said, - no teasing, faster, naked on the bed, legs spread opened.
As much as you would have loved to drag it even more, the staring Ten gave you, made you undress as a secretary – fast and effective. On the bed, you could not open your legs, Ten took off his trousers, looking back at you.
-Legs opened, - he said, when you shied away, he got on the bed, grabbed your legs, dragging you down, till you were on your back, your head on the pillows, his hands on your knees, opening your legs, you couldn’t even say a “whoop” from the unexpected surprise. Without any hesitation, his lips went straight for your core, tongue delving right inside your tight hole. Out of reflex your legs wanted to close, but Ten’s grip stopped you from doing so. He only stopped to lick up your pussy lips, latch on your clitoris, getting you worked up quickly.
He stopped, sitting back on his heels, taking the butt plug, lubricating it.
-Lift yourself up a bit, - he ordered, his two fingers now covered in lube, prodding at your ass hole. When you lifted yourself up, he eased a butt plug inside your ass without any stopping, you choked on a moan, and Ten let you back down. He was watching you, starting from your eyes to your lips, lower to your boobs, as his both hands worked on his cocks.
-You wanna be a good girl? – he offered, you slowly nodded, - touch your nipples for me, massage your breasts, imagine me doing that to you and do it.
To lead him on, you playfully bit your lip, your palms touching your breasts, Ten swallowed, he wanted to eat you whole, your breathing got a bit more rushed, he himself was struggling not to attack you like a man starved.
-You make me crazy, - Ten bit his lip, he was hard now, both dicks ready to enter you, to fuck you into oblivion. Only then you noticed a cock ring and some object you had never seen before.
You watched him place a cock ring on the thickest of his counterparts, and carefully placing a rubbery object (looked like a thinner version of pencil) inside his urethra.
-What is that? – you asked, Ten scrunched up his nose enjoying the feeling.
-It is called a urethral vibrator, I am using it to post pone my ejaculation, because today you are getting what you bargained for… - he leaned in, making space between your legs, kissing your stomach first, then going higher, enjoying how responsive you were to his touch. Attacking your breasts with his lips and hands, your moans led him on even more. Twisting one of your nipples between his fingers earned a yelp from you, as you tried to suppress the feeling of screaming out loud.
-I thought you said there will be no slow build up, - you giggled, a kiss on your lips stopped you from teasing Ten, turning this into serious matter. Kiss was passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth, his lower body rutting against yours. Tens’ hand reached down, aligning his cock with your entrance as he pushed in, you both holding your breaths until he was settled snug inside of you.
-Ahhh, - you moaned, Ten slowly starting up a rhythm, your legs wrapping around his hips. Ten was kissing your neck, moaning in your ear, licking up your chin before entering your mouth with his tongue first. It was filthy, but at this moment, you couldn’t care less.
With Ten by your side, having a child, bringing him/her into this world did not seem like a bad idea, your biological clock was ticking after all, and you loved Ten, the walk of White proved that, not only to you yourself, but to other people living on this planet.
Push after a push, Ten’s cock head repeatedly hit your cervix, with each thrust your body arching from the bed, whimpers leaving your lips. Your hands were roaming his back, your walls clenching down on his dick, sucking him in deeper.
-Ah, I love it when you do that, - Ten moaned out, he changed your position, your legs were now pressed against his shoulders, - cannot let nothing to spill, - he inclined.
This angle allowed him to reach deeper spots within you, that had you crying out like never before, Ten felt his own climax building up, but he intended to make you come first. His hand reached for his other cock, tapping it on your clitoris, then returning back to the rhythmic thrusting, his other counterpart brushing past your clit.
Your core was tightening, it was getting harder for Ten to move, and you climaxed moaning out Ten’s name. your body sending you in a frenzy of aftershocks, core clenching feverously around Ten’s member. His lips found yours as he continued, finally spilling his seed in your body, white, hot fluid filled you up, but Ten didn’t stop, instead he made sure his other cock had enough friction, before he would put it to work.
Your senses were overwhelmed, you nearly missed that Ten’s hand grabbed a hold of yours, gathering the slick from your entrance, to provide his other cock with it generously, then putting your hand around it, fisting his cock, setting in a pleasant movement. His other cock was still providing you with overstimulation inside of you, your moans mixed with Ten’s grunting was all you heard, felt like it even echoed in your head.
-I’m close, - he stated, stopping your hand, he removed the ring and took out the urethral vibrator, swapping over his dicks. The thicker one was now being pushed inside you, your body instinctively moved back, but Ten held you, pushing you back onto him. Your head fell back, your body twisting, your legs were against his shoulders again, and soon Ten was coming, coaxing another orgasm from you, your walls were pulsating, pushing Ten out together with the mixed liquids. Ten quickly grabbed a pillow from behind, putting it under your but, your legs back in the air.
-Cannot waste any, - he said, still catching his breath. He found your lips again. – how do you feel?
-Tired, - you whispered, - you made me very tired, - you laughed.
-Ha, - he laughed back, - this is nothing, we going to do this every day now…
The look on your face dropped.
-Every day?
-Every day, 24/7, 24 hours daily, - he warned kissing you again, - you know what it means now…
-Mmh? – you questioned, he got down to be eye level with your core, seeing how your juices were dripping, he was fast to lick them up, kissing his way up, your stomach, kissing it for a longer time, then going up to your breasts and to your lips again.
-I know you are pregnant…- he said, and you bit your lip. – you have been since before Giselle took you.
You bit the inside of your cheek.
-How did you know? – you asked.
-If it wouldn’t be for you being so tight down there, I would have no clue, but really my father told me when you were in hospital.
-What?
-Yes, so I know, - he whispered.
-Are you happy? – you asked.
Ten nodded and kissed you again.
-But that does not mean I won’t do what I promised, Y/N, twenty-four seven in this bed, - his body crushed yours, your legs wrapping around him, his head a top of your breasts. – thank you.
-For what?
-For giving me all of you…
-All for love Ten, - you whispered, your hand touching his hair in peaceful manner.
-All for love…
#wayv ten#wayv ten smut#wayv fic#wayv x reader#wayv#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#nct smut#nct fic#smut#ten smut#nct ten#nct fanfic#wayv smut#nct chittapon
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A Gangster's Heart - Tommy Shelby x Reader
A/N : I just felt like writing this because I was feeling weirdly emotional when I woke up. Also, I didn't get a chance to proofread it so please pardon me if there are some grammatical shits. I was on a Peaky Blinders hiatus and I just hadn't written in so long, please forgive me if this is bad .
Warnings : Just Angst , Mentions of vulgarity
You glared at the man in the Blinder cap that was leaning against the doorframe of your quaint little shop in Small Heath, Birmingham City. You pulled out a small brown box from one of the drawers and slammed it rather loudly against your desk, sliding the keys in as you twisted it around and the box unlocked with an unceremonious click. You looked at the bills that were securely resting inside, and a hollow feeling filled you up when you realized that you had been saving this to buy your mother that dress at the seamstress shop.
"I always pay my bloody rent. This month the business 's tight. I even told Finn that this month I need a relaxation on the bloody rent and I will pay it all with the next month's rent. Why are you here again asking for the goddamn money?"
"Listen, Miss, we really are in no fucking position to not do what Tommy asks us to, so if Tommy –“ the man you knew as Curly shuffled the weight of his body from his left foot to right, and his palm slid into the pocket of his pants as he pulled out a box of cigarettes.
"So if Tommy asks you to jump off a fucking building, you are going to jump off the fucking building, yeah?' Exasperated, you slammed the box shut, and slid it back into the drawer again.
"I can come back tomorrow, Mr. Shelby won't ask me for the money until 9 in the morning. I can come collect it at 8."
You let out a loud groan of frustration, and involuntarily, your elbows came to rest on the desk as you buried your face into your palms. Finally taking a deep breath, you looked up, and your lips parted, your lower lip almost quivering, "Listen, I - I can't bloody pay Tommy the rent this month, the business is tight, and I barely made enough to pay my apartment rent."
Curly almost shook his head, scratching the side of his face as his hand mechanically flew up to his lips and he took a drag of his cigarette. Finally he nodded, and cleared his throat, "T's okay, Miss Y/L/N, I'll inform Tommy."
"You do that." You nodded and watched him leave. Almost instantly, you slammed your fist against your desk in frustration and let out an unceremonious groan, more so at the sudden onset of a headache at the side of your head. "Great, just fucking great."
An hour later, you grabbed your trenchcoat, throwing your arms through the sleeves in a hurried manner, and wrapped your scarf around your neck to keep yourself warm. These days, you were staying at your shop for longer hours, and this meant that you left from the shop at the odd night hours, mostly after 10. You grabbed your house keys, and walked out of the shop, your boots crushing the faint hue of ice that blanketed the streets of Small Heath, and you locked your shop.
Hugging the side of your arms, you started walking down the sidewalk, keeping your head to the ground, when you heard the sound of hushed whispers that made your head snap up in the direction of the voices. For the people of Small Heath, the men who belonged to the Peaky Blinders always stood out, perhaps it was because of how they dressed, and the unmistakable razorblade caps on top of their heads.
Of course, Tommy Fucking Shelby had sent them to probably collect the rent from you. You didn't know what came over you, but the nearest you could classify it as was a fit of rage, as you found yourself walking towards the men, your nostrils flared, and your fingers clenched together in a fist, balling the side of your coat.
"Listen here, I already told Curly that I'm in no fucking position to pay this month's bloody rent. You can all go and tell your boss that intimidating me by sending you lads is not going to fucking get me to pay the fucking rent."
One of the man took of his cap and stepped a bit closer, raising both his hands in the air, "but Miss Y/N, Mr. Shelby hasn't – "
"Oh, please lad. Don't justify the threatening acts of your boss, just because he runs your razorblade gang, it doesn't mean that I'm scared of him. Where the fuck is he anyway? I would rather settle this with him on his bloody face than stand around in the middle of the street at 10 at night and argue with you all." You huffed, as words shot out of your mouth like bullets raining down on them. The man who had began speaking stood there with his jaw slightly hanging, and no words came out of his lips.
"Well, I'm gonna go and settle this at the betting shop. Talk directly with Tommy." Before waiting for them to reply, you turned your tail, and started walking down the same street again, in the same direction from where you had come. But this time, your steps were confident, your head was raised as you found yourself walking towards the Shelby Betting shop.
•·················•·················•
"Miss, where do you think you are going?" Someone's voice called out as you barged through the front door, and pushed your way through a few men that were already on their way out, ignoring the voice of the man who had called out to you.
You walked up to the massive copper door that held a plate that read TS, and you abruptly knocked on the door. You waited a few seconds when you heard the muffled voices inside the room go off, and heavy footsteps began ascending towards the door on the other side.
You crossed your arms over your chest, and waited until the door finally opened, and you saw John leaning by the door.
"John."
Acknowledging him barely, you pushed past him and stepped inside, until you were striding towards Tommy who was standing by the telephone, speaking to someone. His icy blue eyes met yours and he slowly raised his palm towards you, asking you to hold on to whatever you had to say to him, while John just made his way to where you were and fixed himself by your side, giving you a confused look.
Finally, after about a minute, Tommy finally hung up and placed the receiver back, slowly turning to you.
"Is there anything –"
"Cut it, Tommy. If you think you can scare me off by sending your Blinders to do your dirty bidding for you, then you're wrong. Here– " Your fingers flew to your scarf, and Tommy just squinted his eyes, his confusion evident from his face as he turned to look at John and then back at you.
"What are you– "
You pulled off a gold chain that you remembered wearing almost all your life; ever since you were a little girl. It was that one piece of jewelry that you owned, and that you cherished, because it had been given to you by your father. You literally pulled at the chain, hissing slightly as it detached itself from your neck and you curled your fingers tightly around it, and finally slammed it on Tommy's desk.
"There. I hope this will be enough. I don't have anything else that I can give you. I hope to God that this settles it."
Turning around, not even waiting for Tommy to reply, and without sparing a look at his confused brother, you turned your tail and fuming, you walked out of Tommy's office, without giving him another look. Brittle tears stung in your eyes and your cheeks felt hot. You kept walking, ignoring the way your body was shaking, like an autumn tree shedding its leaves until you were outside and fixed to the wall, the back of your head resting against its surface. Finally, you broke down, your palm pressed to your trembling lips as you were taken over by uncontrollable sobs.
You didn't know how you calmed yourself; but somehow you did. You wiped your tear stained cheeks with your sleeve and looked up at the sky for a bit, staring at the moonless night, as you started walking back home, with your thoughts and your heavy heart. You were angry with Tommy Shelby, you were angry with yourself, and how you had to depend on the Peaky Blinders to run your little shop.
You kept walking, until the familiar silhouette of your tiny apartment was visible, it's dull grey white walls a striking contrast to the red brick buildings around it. A lonely flickering lightbulb illuminated the front door, and the windows of the building looked like they were about to fall off. It wasn't the best place to live, but it was home. You smiled to yourself when you saw your mother standing by the kitchen window, her frail little hands working on the dishes as she scrubbed them relentlessly. And just as quick the smile was, it vanished into thin air at the sight of her.
You lifted your foot, ready to walk towards her when a vulgar leer subjected to you made you freeze on spot, "Oi look what we've got here, eh lads, what a pretty little thing she is." You could only look at them, with bewilderment and fear in your eyes, as two men stepped out of nowhere, and fixed themselves on either side of you.
"Yeah, leave me the bloody hell alone," you mumbled as you tried to manoeuvre your way through the space between them, in an attempt to walk away, but one of them grabbed your arm, and pulled you back with a rough tug, "Now who the fuck asked you to leave eh? Fuckin' whore."
The man stank of booze and sweat, and it made you want to throw up. You threw him a look full of disgust, and anger as you placed your palm where the man was gripping your arm and tried to pry his hand off you, "Get your fucking hands off me. Don't you dare touch me."
"Maybe you didn't hear me, you whore. I didn't ask you to leave. Where's a pretty little thing like you headed when I can show you, yeah, a bloody good time?" He only laughed, while his hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the hem of your coat, his fingers now dragging it up so he could reach your skirt. You smacked at his hand, hard enough for the slap to echo back into your ears and tried to move away.
"Maybe you need to be taught a fucking lesson." The man spat at the ground beside you, and the other man grabbed your other arm, as they started dragging you towards the dumpster by the side of the street, on the sidewalk. You screamed, as loud as your throat could, thrashing your feet and trying to get away, but they were two, and you were a woman, nowhere as strong as their grips on you were.
The men somehow managed to drag your protesting form to the dumpster, and they pushed you over it, so you had your front pressed to it, your body bent over it at an awkward angle. You hissed, your eyes closing as reflex when you felt a slithering hand latch itself to your thighs, underneath your coat and the hand started moving upwards, forcing you to try to press your legs together to stop him from going any further, "Quit whining you bitch, and let me show you what a real lad takes a whore like. You must like it rough yeah? You must love to have our cocks smashin' into that tight little cunt of yours?"
You closed your eyes, your throat now parched from the screaming, but you knew, deep down that no one was coming. You were on your own.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" That voice enough was enough to tell you that the men had their death sentences already laid out. Maybe it was Tommy's voice, or maybe it was the realization who he was, the hands that were seconds back trying to grope you immediately pulled away.
"We were, uh, just having fun."
"Would you still have fun if I decide to fucking cut your throats and leave you to bleed to your deaths?" Finally, he stepped closer to you, and that's when the men saw who he was, and the realization finally sunk in, as the pale moonlight now illuminated his face, his emotionless eyes and the vein that popped over his eyebrow.
"Mr. Shelby, we .. we.. oi, get the fuck out of here, Jack.." He screamed at the man that was accompanying him, and the two of them turned around immediately, pulling you by your arm and thrusting you into Tommy's chest, to buy them time to escape. The minute your body collided with Tommy's, his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand coming to hold you from the low of your back to steady to your feet. Once he was sure that you were okay, he roughly shoved you towards the wall, and his form stepped in front of you, shielding your vision from what he was going to do.
"Look away, Y/N," his voice commanded.
"Tommy, please get me out of –"
"What bloody part of look away do you not understand?" He practically snapped at you and the crudeness in his words made you almost whimper and press yourself against the wall, as you turned towards the wall and pressed your face to it.
Your body shuddered, even more so when you heard the two shots that were fired from a gun, and suddenly it went silent.
"Come on, love," you felt someone place his arms over either of your shoulders , almost pulling you towards him and slowly, numbly you turned around, tears freely spilling down your eyes, the shrill ringing sound buzzing through your ears. Tommy pulled you close, almost into his chest, as he protectively wrapped his arm around your shoulder and nudged you to walk with him.
"You killed them, you fucking ... killed them." Words began spilling from your mouth as tears began spilling again from your eyes, and you didn't stop mumbling, it was like your mind was blank, and your lips were moving on your own. It was only when Tommy's index finger pressed to your lips, that you stopped mumbling those barely incoherent words, and craned your neck to look at him as you mouthed, in a low voice, "you killed them, Tommy."
Tommy kept you pressed to himself, his arm holding you as he began walking down the street, and you moved along with him.
"This is who I am. Yeah, I fucking killed them, and I would do it again, and will not feel a bloody ounce of regret if they tried to do that again."
It was as though your mind had frozen out, you couldn't think straight. You were still shaking from the aftermath of what you had just witnessed. When you didn't reply, he slowly let go off your shoulder, and you stepped away, almost immediately. He didn't say anything though, as his hand slid into his pocket and he pulled out his box of cigarettes, "I'm going to walk you home."
"No, I need a fucking drink. Just walk me to a place where I could get a fucking drink."
•·················•·················•
Tommy Shelby brought you to the Garrison. And now you were seated on a couch, in the private room of the pub that Thomas Shelby owned. You had already drank two glasses of Irish Whiskey and Tommy was pouring your third glass for you, when you finally looked up at him and reached out, roughly grabbing his other free hand that was laying on the table. He immediately looked up, his eyes meeting yours halfway, as you tilted your head and questioned him silently with your eyes, "I appreciate what you did for me, Tommy, but you didn't have to shoot them."
Tommy leaned forward, sliding your glass towards you and he sat back again, his hand mechanically moving up to his lips as he inhaled the smoke from his lit cigarette.
"Listen, there are things that I do, I do them for a fucking reason, I didn't want you to see which is why I asked you to bloody look away." His voice was cold.
You curled your fingers around your glass and lifted it up, bringing it to your lips as you took a small sip of the drink, letting the burning liquid rush down the canal of your throat. When you didn't reply, Tommy leaned forward, his fists clenched and his lips pressed together.
"I can see that you want to say something, Tommy." You almost whispered.
"This is the fucking reason why, I don't like you working at the shop after the sun sets."
You almost snorted at his words, and instantly your glass flew to your lips, and this time you gulped down two mouthfuls of it and placed the glass back, giving Tommy a look that reflected the annoyance you felt at the situation, "Are you telling me it's my fucking fault, that I wanted this to fucking happen?"
"If I wasn't there on time," Tommy almost began, but his voice was incredibly low, and he immediately stopped his words from spilling out, thinking that you hadn't heard, but you had heard him nonetheless, "Where the hell were the boys when this happened?"
"What?" Your head snapped in his direction, as you gave him a look of confusion.
"Nothing. Come on. I'm gonna walk you home."
"Thomas –" You stood up almost immediately, your eyes burning a hole at the back of his head. "What did you mean about the boys?"
Tommy took a last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it into the ashtray as he stood up, and slid his hand into one of his pockets, before placing your gold chain on the table.
"Curly told me of the word he had with you today. And I told him that it was alright." He pressed his palm against the chain and slid it towards you, pulling his hand away. You kept glancing at the chain for a few seconds before you slowly lifted your gaze, fixing it on him.
"I don't understand. Then why were your Blinders following me?"
"They weren't. They were just doing what I had asked them to do."
You stood up, striding towards Tommy until you had placed your palm on his arm, and yanked his head towards you so you could stare into his eyes. "You asked them to follow me. So you could get the fucking money."
The man in front of you shook his head, and pulled his arm away, without uttering a word. You watched as he walked up to the door and fixed himself by the doorframe , his back turned towards you.
"Harry? Where the fuck's Curly? Send him in, yeah?"
He cleared his throat, and turned back towards you, not meeting your gaze.
"I won't accept that chain. You should keep it. And as for the rent, Curly can collect it next month."
You opened your mouth, but at that exact moment, a rather flustered looking Curly knocked on the door and Tommy's attention drifted away, "Curly, can you please make sure Miss Y/ L/N gets back home?" Without giving you a second glance, he walked off and you were left to look at Curly, wondering what you had said to him for him to react the way he did.
"Curly?"
"Yes? Miss Y/N?"
You walked up to the doorframe, and looked out, your eyes scanning for Tommy but you didn't see him anywhere. You craned your neck back so you were now looking at Curly, "If Tommy was okay with me not paying you today, then why were the Blinders following me?"
His hand flew to the back of his head and he gave you a sheepish smile, before flicking his glance away and then back at you.
"It's not really my place to say."
"Curly."
"Oh alright! Tommy sends the Blinders everyday. He just wants to make sure that you safely reach home from the shop and no one bothers you on your way."
•·················•·················•
"Harry! Have you seen Tommy anywhere?" You were literally out of breath as you slammed both your palms against the counter and the bartender looked at you.
"Mr. Shelby just left a few minutes ago."
You didn't even listen to anything else, you had already turned your tail and were practically running out of the Garrison, not bothering as your shoulders knocked into people on your way out.
Stepping into the cold, brittle street, your arms reflexively flew to the side of your arms as you ran down the street, ignoring the way the people were looking at you and murmuring whispers amongst each other. You weren't bothered what they were thinking about you, and your eyes were fixed on the man who was now inches away from you, smoke coiling around him and his back turned towards you as he walked down the street.
"For fucks sake, Thomas Shelby, are you really going to make me run after you like this in the dark?" You called out, watching him freeze as he turned towards you.
"Does that man never listen? I thought I asked Curly to take you home."
Immediately, your hand shot up, and you almost placed your palm up so you could let him know you were speaking. His cold, emotionless eyes moved from your hand to your face, his expressions unreadable.
"I was wrong. But you are worse than me. You send in your fucking Blinders to make sure that I get home safe but never once bother to tell me why. You secretly care about me, but never let me fucking find out. Thomas Shelby, I really don't understand why you do the things you do. You see, from the day I've known you Tommy, the only impression you've given me is that you probably hate me. Or, I don't exist. And then you secretly do this. I am tired of playing these games Thomas Shelby, and I am done begging you to answer. What is wrong with you?"
You watched as Tommy parted his lips in an attempt to reply, but all that shot out of those lips was the foggy winter air before he clamped his mouth shut again. He almost took a step closer and suddenly all you could feel was a weird tension lingering in the air.
"You know what your problem is? You think too much, you bloody assume too much. You're telling me you think I fucking hate you, when all I've ever done is to make sure you're okay."
"Why would you even fucking care about me?" Your voice sounded weak, but you didn't care. You hadn't realized when your lips had started trembling and hot tears had started skimming down your cheeks. Tommy let out a barely audible sigh as he brought his palms closer to your face, his reluctance to hold you pretty evident. Finally, after fighting with himself for so longer, he let his palms cup your cheeks as he pled your face to his, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Some things are best left unsaid, love. I will always care for you, whether you like it or not. Who knows where you'll be tomorrow, who you'll be with, but you will always mean something to me." You smiled when you felt Tommy's lips press against yours, and in those few seconds he kissed you, he gave you all the answers that you wanted, and he didn't even have to say a word.
Permanent Tommy Shelby Taglist ( Fill the form here if you want to be added ) :
@captivatedbycillianmurphy @really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @baumarvel @nyotamalfoy @peakyfooky
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what are your fav enha looks ?
this is so long im sorry in advance but short answer:
heeseung: cdtv upper side dreamin xmas perf.
jay: cdtv upper side dreamin xmas perf. / blessed-cursed dance practice / jay w green in his hair
jake: 29.04.21 not for sale @ m countdown
sunghoon: blessed-cursed dance practice / 20.01.22 blessed-cursed @ m countdown
very long answer under the cut ! 💕⭐️💕⭐️💌🫀
OH MY GOD this omg i was thinking about this yesterday during my daily rewatch of their CDTV! christmas upper side dreamin performance (which is my 3rd favourite performance of anything ever) omds.. and heeseung on that day. that is the peak of heeseung and his career which is saying a lot because he is always perfect but oh my fucking days the hair the outfit everything he just looks so sweet and cosy that is my favourite heeseung in the world
my favourite jay look.. hmm i haven't really thought too much about this but any time he had the green in his hair.. that was.. that was just crazy he's so foul and disgusting for that.
honourable mention to cdtvusdxmas performance jay who was also outrageous.. something was in the air that day..
AND blessed-cursed dance practice jay.. the chrome hearts pants??? only a man that wanted to be with me would dress like that.. but on a serious note the chrome hearts pants are so perfect on him literally made to be worn by him he is everything. the varsity jacket and the chunky chain? yeah, he's crushing it.
favourite jake look.. next question. GASP I JUST REMEMBERED. okay this jake in the not for sale performance for mcountdown on apr 29 2021.., i think this is my favourite outfit i've ever seen jake wear.. everything about jake was perfect on this day and the only thing i would change about him on that day would be his relationship status from wtv it was then to my boyfriend. i think about this jake look in my sleep in my daily activities in all aspects of my life i am nothing if not an APR292021NFSJAKE thinker. ohh my days he's perfect this outfit the hair the face the smile the song the performance jake is perfect perfect perfect. sigh. and i don’t normally like mcqueen’s but he’s killing it he did perfect.
border carnival jake was just different and i'm so sad i didn't get to experience it in real time but im glad i don't have to wait for content to come out.. it's okay. the universe knew i wasn't ready for him back then. twt thread of pics of him during this performance.
favourite sunghoon look ... hmm i have no idea atm give me some time. some honourable mentions are blessed-cursed dance practice hoon.. that outfit that hair that sunghoon changed the trajectory of my life the AJ1s he is sick.
tbf though .. even though the colourway works w the rest of the outfit it's not my favourite - but the silhouette fits the outfit so nice (to me) and i love the shoe sm that idrc
also kim possible sunghoon was breathtaking those prada looks were to die for. (blessed-cursed mcountdown performance)
and those are some of my favourite enhypen 01-02 line outfits.. there are for sure more but these are the ones that came to mind when i read your ask, i really love talking fashion and clothes so this was a lot of fun.. i love that i said i couldn't think of anything for jay and then gave 3 diff answers.. anyways ! i hope u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
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Peter Pan #1
Mafia au.
TW: Kidnapping, Murder, Mentions, aftermath and some small displays of abuse, Violence, blood
And thus we begin the tale of the Peter Pan dubbed Spiderman.
(Peter Pan are people in the mafia who’s job it is to distract the kids whilst other deal with business)
——//——//——
A heavy metal for creaked open, scratching the floor as it opened. Pan squinted shielding his eyes as the bright light filtered into the room. The floor was concrete and the only padding he had was a dusty old blanket in the corner. This was is box, barren and cold. He never wanted to be here.
“Stop sulking. You’ve got a job to do.” A rusty male voice broke through the blinding light, his silhouette filling the door way. The shadow can forward pulling Pan forward onto his knees by a chain wrapped around his wrists and secured with a padlock. He said nothing just slowly got to his feet and followed the man through the badly lit halls. Outside of similar metal door the padlock was unlocked and his chains removed but a bag was slipped over his head. A large hand clamped around his wrists as the familiar scrapping of metal against concrete sounded as he was dragged by the arm.
He had never seen what was on the other side of this door. All he knew was that there was a van and people. There was quiet chatter about the lay out of the house and whispers that were obviously directed to him.
“The target is upstairs, daughter is downstairs.”
“Wife?”
“No woman could stand that guy..”
“One did, enough to have a kid with ‘im.”
“Ey look, it’s the pan boy.”
“There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do to get my hands on a piece of meat like that..”
“I bet he goes a pretty shade of purple.”
“Boys. Focus. There is a skylight entrance. Come in through there to collect the prize.”
Pan couldn’t hear anymore before he thrown into the back of the van. Groaning as he scuffled onto his hands and knees before finding his way to one corner where he tugged his knees up to his chest to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He learnt early to never try and escape or to try and take off the bag over his head.
“Alright. Front. Point. Centre. Back. Skylight. Understand? Let’s go.” He heard as the van dipped slightly as heavy footsteps filled the van. The crew was filtering into the van and soon it fell into silence as the engine roared to life. Soon Pan would have to do his job. A job he hated so much that he wish he never existed.
“If you do your job well tonight maybe I could let you out of your room for a night. I’m sure the boys would value your attention.” A sickening voice commented as a hand ran over his head, making Pan curled further into himself. He preferred the box.
——//——//——
The van finally came to a stop and the bag was ripped off his head. He watched as the group around him readied their guns and pulled on their masks.
“Brumlow, take Pan to the room. Once the target as been engaged go for the prize.” The leader ordered and soon Pan has been grabbed by the hair and was being dragged out of the van.
As his feet hit the pavement, he instinctively glanced up and had a wave of déjà vu wash over him. He had been here before but he just couldn’t place it.
“Ow!” Pan screeched our as he was tugged roughly by the hair.
“What did we say about speaking?!” A hand wrapped around his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. When Pan didn’t respond Brumalow just smirked and grabbed his hair once again to drag him through the house and to a door with cute little drawings of horses and fairies. Pan made sure to look at all possible exits, he would never try to run but it was just a habit now.
“Keep the kid distracted. I’ll be back.” Brumalow said before opening the door and shoving Pan inside. Yet another wave of déjà vu washed over the boy as he was met with the child’s room. The bed on the left wall, drawings covering the walls and a desk tucked into the right far corner with a closet along the front wall.
Pan saw the glint of a sliver frame that sent his heart spiking. His feet moved without his permission and before he knew it he had crossed the room and was holding this framed picture of a black haired man with a young man on his back. It.. it looks..
“It looks like me...” Pan breathed in absolute disbelief. How did this kid have a picture of him and this oddly familiar stranger?
“Are you really here?” A gentle sleepy voice sounded from the other side of the room. Pan turned around and saw this black hair girl sitting up in her bed with hopeful eyes.
“Yeah.. I am.. Why do you have a picture of me?” Pan said shakily, afraid of the answer. The girl beamed happily and bounced out of bed, within a flash her arms were around Pan’s waist and hugging him tight.
“That’s you and Daddy, silly. Do you not remember? Daddy said you might not remember. That’s why we made an album to help you remember. We should go tell Daddy that you are back!” The girl had let go and was heading for the door just as a gun shot went off. Then another and another. There was crashing and banging. Everything started to click into place, it wasn’t déjà vu. It was his subconscious remembering his home. He had to protect this girl.
“Quickly under the desk. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. I’m here to protect you.” He cooed to the scared girl. She followed his directions as Pan situated himself between the door and his.. the girl.
The crashing and banging continued. Screams and yells sounded from upstairs but the door handle never turned. Pan brain went into overdrive trying his best to connect the dots. The sounds of footsteps on the roof above triggered something in his mind that gave Pan the whole picture.
Home. Target. Girl. Prize. Skylight. Brumalow. “I’ll be back”. Protect.
The sounds of a skylight window creaking open brought Pan out of his head. The boy grabbed the chair behind him, pulling it towards him and launching it up at the skylight just as Brumalow jumped through the open window.
“Fuck. What the hell Pan?!.” Brumalow grunted as he fell onto the floor, clutching at his side.
“Not my name.” He spoke without missing a beat. Brumalow’s eyes widen almost in fear. He slowly moved to grab the walker talkie.
“Pan’s gone Spider.” Brumalow said lowly and the the shooting ceased.
“PETER.”
That voice from upstairs flipped something in his mind. It was familiar and sent a spiral of emotions cascading into his mind. It was him. Pan was Peter. He was Peter. Pan isn’t him.
The shooting continued and Peter launched himself at Brumalow, tackling him to the ground and landing a punch to his face as Morgan screamed and sobbed in fear from underneath the desk.
“Fucking. Bastard!!” Brumalow overpowered him eventually. Tossing him off and pulling out a handgun that he quickly trained on the girl with a hand extended to Peter who was seething with anger. Brumalow pulled out a handgun and fired one shot at Peter, shitting him in the side.
“One more step and she di-“ Brumalow threatened but his voice stopped as Peter took a step forward. He pulled the trigger but nothing came out.
“Someone didn’t reload..” He lunged at the man once again. Pulling a knife from the sheath on Brumalow’s leg and pinning the man to the ground.
“Close your eyes and cover your ears, darling.” He spoke the to whimpering girl before he plunged the knife repeatedly into the disgusting man’s chest. Once Brumalow stopped moving, Peter shakily stood up and dropped the knife by his foot. He grabbed a sheet off the girl’s bed and covered the filth’s body before he collapsed with his back up against the desk.
“This is my home isn’t it?” He asked as he gently putting his hand near hers. She nodded and took his hand whilst crawling out from under the desk. Sitting herself in his lap and crying. He gently rubbed he back whilst cradelling her as the fight raged on overhead.
Suddenly it was quiet and there was a slow thump going down the stairs, whoever it was didn’t want to come down. They seemed hesitant. Now that everyhting seemed to slow down a unbearable pain radiated from his side. Glancing down he saw his shirt drenched in blood as it began to deep into the carpet beneath him.
“Help..” He called putting weakly, feeling light headed. Suddenly the foot steps quickened and the door flew open. It was the man from the picture.
“I’m Peter.” All he could do was start sobbing as he felt an overwhelming wave of love and safety crash into his head. The man in the door way joined his sobbing as he made his way over to the two, kneeling down beside them and pulling them into a hug.
“I’ve got you baby. We’ve got you. I’ll never let you go again.” The man whispered softly whilst stroking Peter’s hair, kissing his forehead. Peter felt his chest fill with warm and happiness as he was cradelled.
“D-Daddy. Papa was shot..” The young girl whimpered, trying to be helpful.
“What?!” The man leant back, glancing over Peter before his eyes settled on his side.
“Fuck fuck fuck. No. No. I just got you back. Hunny, go push the emergency button!” Before the man had even finished the little girl was on her feet and running out the door. The raven haired man pulled Peter into his lap, putting pressure on his side as the young man blinked lazily.
“Your name is Tony. I have a husban-.” Peter blinked out, head lolling to the side onto Tony’s chest as the pain became unbearable.
@starkly @itfeelssogoodmrstark
#starker#tony x peter#mafia au!#im sorry#starker angst#starker fic#sad starker#read the trigger warnings#im going back to fluff next chapter
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Huntress
by tamara - 2020
Content warnings: drugs, kidnapping, abuse, implied serial rape
---
Crickets.
A diesel engine roars to life, the driver’s side door slamming shut. Insects scatter.
In the plastic light sits a woman draped from head to toe in black wool and kevlar, boots and gloves slick with something dark as the rest of her. Barely visible through the miniscule eye holes in her knit ski mask are a pair of verdant eyes that turn brown beneath the sun-bleached overhead lamp. They meet the gaze of the hogtied woman in the back seat; perhaps if the gag hadn’t filled her mouth so totally they could’ve shared a smile. Beside her sits a distended leather bag, glistering wetly in the poor light.
“You probably can’t understand me right now, but that’s okay. You’ve got a big job ahead of you, girlie!” says the obscured figure, deep red enthusiasm dripping from her barred teeth.
The other woman’s eyes were like rear-view mirrors, a dark silhouette reflecting in her beady blue window panes beneath the glow of headlights. A muffled scream ripples through the pine-fresh air.
A laugh as a hand grips the stick shift and forces it into reverse. The poor fawn - Artemis could scarcely remember her name - made it quite a ways before the effects of the drugs really started to kick in; datura wasn’t particularly easy to source in this part of the country, and figuring out how to infuse it into a packet of hot cocoa was even harder, but the face of the poor girl as she lay belly-up in the dirt like a prize doe made it worth it in the end.
Of course, the poor thing wasn’t her target. No, Artemis’s true prize lay asleep in a weekend rental cabin some three miles south of the two. She’d owed something far beyond any monetary value to a scorned ex-partner; like many other stories just like this one, it began with an advertisement somewhere on the bowels of the internet, and ended with a sizable sum of cryptocurrency. But for now, there was a cabin to break into.
And only one key, which happened to be inside, sleeping alongside its temporary owner. Tricky thing.
The truck accelerates backwards along the rugged deer trails for as long as it takes before the first hint of human habitation - a road sign, visible after some ten minutes or so, advising Artemis to turn right. With a sudden slam on the brake and an impressive two-point turn, her gloved hands turn the car around, starting down the marked path. In the back, the hogtied woman slams against leather seats, invisible insects crawling all over her skin and screaming at her, biting her for her indignation. Every passing moment of time is like being sent to Hell and back again, as bands of white-hot anxiety straddle the poor girl’s brain. Human minds were scarcely capable of these depths; yet loosening her up like this was a critical part of the process. When they get to the cabin, Artemis needs cooperation - or as close to it as the addled girl is capable of.
“Relax, yeah? In and out. Few more minutes. All you gotta do is,” Artie begins, grunting as she punches the vehicle into third gear, “get your nice lil’ girlfriend to open a fuckin’ door for me! Easy, right?”
From the muffled form comes no response, save another muffled yelp of horror. A good sign, generally speaking. That means she was marinating in it, allowing it to truly saturate every fiber of muscle and frayed neuron the girl had to offer. Fear, like all delicious seasonings, was best stewed as long as possible before final preparation, and this dish had the potential to be one of her most decadent.
“I like your moxie!”
With a fiery gasp the truck accelerates into high gear, engine roaring like the mechanical throb of Artemis’s heart. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s used that little datura trick; indeed, the poor doe in the back seat would be the fourth to fall victim to it. The stuff was mostly undetectable in the blood, and the majority of investigators would be unaccustomed to its effects and overlook it.
Pride, however, was a trait Artemis particularly despised, and she found it unbecoming to speak so highly of herself. Sure, as her mind wandered beneath the din of the engine and the glow of the vibrant stars above, Artemis could consider herself damn good at her job; this contract alone would pay her out over $18,000 in various cryptocurrencies, not to mention another positive mark upon her already-spotless record. It was a decent living and then some, and for a woman with modest tastes, (save a penchant for expensive ski trips every few years,) it was more than enough to live on. She’d be paid to travel the country, meeting so many interesting people - and hurting every single last one of them well beyond the point of human capacity. No, the perks were nice, for sure - but Artemis did what she did for the love of the sport. Money and recognition alike were simply means to her carnal end.
Who was this mark, anyways? Artemis scarcely remembered who she was hired to deal with, or why, but the name Beatrice stuck out in her mind. Some college girl, around twenty or twenty one; it was a stupid little disagreement, presumably. Love triangles got tangled, words got spat, and bridges fell as smouldering ashes to waters below. Of course, they, like most of Artemis’s clients, would be shocked to find how very seriously she took her job. Indeed, they’d hoped to scare her, and in a way they would - permanently, perhaps, especially if you count child support.
Beneath the tires, something snaps, startling the slut in the back into a fit of panicked breathing. It reminded Artie of a dog, one suffocated beneath layers of loose skin and irresponsible breeding; she, like any runt, could do little more than kick and spasm thoughtlessly in a mind unaware of how addled it really was. Chains in the trunk stir audibly, clinking as she moves and expose exactly what it is she’s brought with her.
“Quiet! Fuckin’ Christ, it’s like this is your first datura trip!” Artemis hisses in her disquietingly-springy voice. “You’re dying and you’re going to go to Hell, bitch! Run! Run! Aaah!!”
The screaming accomplished little beyond getting some of the residual energy out of herself, but Artie enjoyed it nonetheless. A particularly violent spasm from the trembling figure let her captor know she was really marinating in it, chemically-induced psychosis tenderizing her brain like sauced beef. Poor thing, Artie thought as she watched the twitching form in the rear-view mirror. The client hadn’t left a pamphlet of information on her, unlike her primary target; as far as she knew, this girl was completely innocent. None of what she’d inflicted on her in the last few hours was deserved, warranted, or even understood on her part. Artemis rubbed her denim-clad legs together and smiled to no one.
By now, they were getting close. Artemis bites her tongue. This was a simple, in-and-out job, the kind she’d pick up to fill an empty evening; her elation only increases as more of the cabin is illuminated by the headlights. Thick foliage and tree cover run alongside the muddy driveway, the whole air of the place heavy with sleep and moisture. It sits isolated in a small, overgrown clearing, the lawn mostly neglected or perhaps left to fallow. The grass and flowers give way to a gravel lot, and space for two cars, upon which sat the mark’s old beater sedan. Above it, a small window, white curtains flapping in the cool wind; it wasn't two-storey, but contained a separate loft with a bed, where Beatrice likely lay now.
Stillness. For a moment, nothing happens beneath the hum of the diesel engine, save the quiet, panicked breaths of a woman far beyond psychosis. If one trains their ear, crickets hum beyond the blanket of pine; none do, leaving them unheard. There’s work to do.
She pulls up quietly, beneath the cover of the dark. Just enough noise to needed to stir the target from sleep, but not enough to startle her; it was important that Artemis maintain the illusion of being alone and undetected. After all, it was only five hours since the drugged-out girl had gone missing, and the sudden chaotic turn this idyllic camping trip had taken was grating on her. Poor little Beatrice had likely fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion, too worried about her friend lost in the woods to keep her energy.
With a huff she shoves the driver-side door open, yet makes no further motion. This was now a job for her little assistant. The bedside lamp clicks on and floods the gravel with its dim, curtained glow, enough to allow Beatrice sight outside yet falling short of illuminating Artemis’s black-clad body. If the bulb had been replaced a mere two days or so earlier, it could’ve been bright enough to shine against her silver belt buckle…
“...Sasha?”
But it didn’t. A voice from the window, just like the one in the phonecalls Artie tapped in the previous weeks, calls to the truck with sleep-addled concern in her voice.
“BEATRICE!?”
With a sudden heave the woman in the back roars into motion, suddenly lapsing into a fit of screams and muffling her captor’s motions as she slithers into the back seats, drawing the dagger she’s clipped to her belt. Her goal’s not her throat - well, not this time, at least - but the zipties holding the mass of trembling limbs together. Beatrice needed to remain under the impression that Sasha had come back for her, come back for all of them. Maybe they’d be able to recover their little birthday bash after all?
“W-What the fuck!? Sasha, where have you BEEN!? Oh, my God!” the mark yells, voice caught and stifled by the firs. “We called everyone! W-Where were you!?”
Cold blood runs through Beatrice’s veins in the delirious second before Sasha replies. Wind chills her to the bone through her tear-soaked ACDC shirt, her nipples stiff and frigid. Natural deliriants were certainly potent, but the draught of exhaustion and fear being mixed beneath the mark’s was a concoction of a similar caliber.
“BEATRICE THEY’RE STABBING AND EATING ME.” Sasha howls, the haunting tone of absolute conviction in her.
Voice wavering, Beatrice chokes a reply above the brisk wind. “What!?”
Teeth beneath a veil of black bare themselves in a smile far beyond cruel. These precious moments of sadistic bliss were, of course, well-charted in her grand strategy, and shouldn’t last more than a few seconds; your first datura trip should be something to remember, especially for the people unlucky enough to interact with you when you’re peaking. Had Beatrice any idea what to do, mind without the soggy weight of sleep, she’d be calling the police, asking exactly why her friend had returned suddenly and inexplicably, alone, but she’s instead throwing her Ugg’s and flannel on and stumbling half-blind by the light down the inadequate loft staircase.
Artie could practically cum. Two strong wrists force Sasha out of the door and onto the cold gravel parkway, face-first, and wait for the screams to begin.
“AH!”
Less than a second, which meant Sasha’s reaction time wasn’t completely fried. Good, good - the risk of dying from datura was a whole lot lower if she was still able to feel. Her wincing gives way into a stumbling, scratching mount, limbs heavy with the weight of sixty seeds upon them as they begin to hurl themselves towards the cabin. Her captive coordinator’s doing an excellent job so far, Artemis thought with a satisfied grin as she crept into action.
With Beatrice inside somewhere between the loft and the den, Artie had ample darkness. Flexibility on her side, she deftly reaches behind the small cabin compartment behind the row of back seats, grabbing the small duffel bag of work-related implements. Its contents varied from job to job; on this particular outing she’d brought the chains, shackles, an electric drill and screws, and several gnarly pieces of rusted rebar that would be particularly unpleasant to contort one’s limbs around - which is why she brought them, of course. Hand round the bag she slithers out the open door, hidden in the darkness beneath it before lunging at the closest wall. Hugging it, she shimmies to the corner and awaits the sweet, tinny click of a brass door lock.
Bare skin clatters against wood, lights in the cabin switching on to the rhythm of inner footsteps. Sasha’s on the patio steps, now, screaming like she’s on fire in the otherwise-still night air. Artie’s mind buzzes happily as the green digital screen of the truck’s clock reads out three thirty-two AM. Crickets. The trees don’t impede their song.
And with a metallic click, a woosh of air and a gust of cold, the front door swung open. Yellow incandescent light spills onto the patio and into the dark night - across beady, dilated eyes, writhing on the wooden floor.
“Jesus, Sasha! What’s fucking happening to you!?” she screams, bathrobe waving as she jogs anxiously in place. “I - oh, my God, I need to - fuck, fuck!”
“BEATRICE HE’S CUTTING YOUR NECK AND YOU’RE GROWING MORE HEADS --”
“SASHA STOP FUCKING TALKING -- “
“Good evening, girls!”
Boots clack against the patio. A black figure, duffel bag in hand, skips into the light.
“WHO ARE YOU!? WHAT THE FUCK!?” Beatrice screams, dropping her phone in the midst of her emergency dial. Little of Artemis was illuminated beyond her eyes, sunken beneath her matte black figure that ate the light whole.
“I’m Artemis, but you can call me Artie. Sasha opened the door for me because I told her to,” she begins, voice beneath the chaos as calm and chipper as it had ever been. “And I’m going to ruin your fucking life.”
Crickets. A still, silent forest, its insect denizens undisturbed. Through the trees one can scarcely make out the thump of skin and the bending of steel.
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ancient names, iv
A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic
Ancient Names, pt iv: game of survival
Masterlink Post
Word Count: 4.7k
Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.
Warnings: Language, some “light” religious blasphemy (it’s Far Cry 5), the Seeds being themselves. This is an enemies to lovers (enemies to enemies and lovers?), strong canon deviance from here on out. Mentions of blood/carnage, the frantic energy of people who both hate and are attracted to each other. It goes on!
Notes: Hi guys! I'm so, so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up. You know how quarantine-times just be like that where you manically write something for like 8 days straight and then never touch it again for weeks? Yeah, it really DO be like that sometimes.Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a filler, for which I apologize; I wanted some softer John/Elliot moments, at least something that wasn't quite so much "fuck off" and "please go fuck yourself" constantly, but also, that is also kind of Elliot's personality, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I promise I will try to be much better at making myself sit down and actually write now that I'm not swallowed up by a black hole of writer's block! Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding and for all of the lovely comments and kudos; it really means the most to me! I just love getting the chance to interact with y'all.
The adrenaline crash was already happening.
Elliot was familiar with the sensation; as she rifled through the glove box of the Eden’s Gate van, John waited impatiently just on the other side of her while the sound of car doors and voices echoed in the distance. He clearly wanted to tell her to hurry up, and maybe he would, if she took long enough—but she wasn’t keen on these fucking crazies getting their hands on her.
She almost laughed at the thought. Passed from one psycho’s hands to another; wouldn’t that be something? Joey would be absolutely furious.
If she’s not dead, that unrelenting voice in her head echoed, stilling her hands for a moment.
“Deputy?” John asked, when she stopped moving, maybe because he was worried she could hear or see something he couldn’t. That would be nice—John Seed, sweating, for once in his fucking life.
If they didn’t already gut her and plant a whole fucking garden in her.
“Rook.” His voice wasn’t a question now, but a command, and she could hear it in his voice; look at me, tell me what you’re thinking, and her teeth clicked together. She closed the glove box shut, no reward to be found—just loose papers and some napkins—and closed the door beside her. The rattle of the chain link binding their cuffed wrists together reminded her, once again, of the absurdity of their situation.
“Don’t call me that,” she said tiredly, the rush of driving almost head-first into another car at a hundred miles-per-hour fleeing her body, leaving her feeling gutted and emptied out. She coughed into her elbow and the gesture pulled something in the cavity of her chest; now more than ever, she wished that she’d taken the risk of potentially dying and just popped those Tylenol-looking pills when she’d had the chance
John stared at her for a moment. He didn’t respond to her demand, but replied, “You’re still wearing my glasses.”
Elliot shrugged. She pushed the glasses down her nose a little to peer at him over the blue, reflective lenses. “They look better on me anyway.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. He looked like he wanted to say something to her—and she certainly expected him to snap at her to hand them over—but he turned away and started walking. He said, briskly, “Let’s not get hunted down like wild animals, shall we?”
“Yes,” Elliot agreed, falling into step with him, sobering her voice quite purposefully, “wouldn’t it be awful if one of those crazy cultists say, drugged and kidnapped us? Absolutely beastly.”
John shot her a look. He looked awfully like he wanted to say something again; that frustrated tense of his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed, these were all familiar gestures to her. She could tell that she was pushing a button he didn’t want her to have access to. That knowledge gave her a giddy kind of thrill and kick-started her system all over again. Good, Elliot thought, minding her business as picked along a barely-used trail and left the van behind them, going further and further into the wilderness. The river was close; if she had to guess, they were somewhere halfway between where John had taken resident and the border into Faith’s territory. I hope that pisses him off.
“We should head back to the ranch first,” Elliot continued, falling into step with John—and not without some puffing. “And would you slow down? Remember how you got me sick? And then handcuffed us together in a temper tantrum? And then—”
“I was there,” John snipped at her. Despite his brittle tone, he did make an effort of less power walking, maybe because he didn’t want to have to drag her unconscious body along once she passed out from billowing her way across the Montana wilderness.
“Just wanted to make sure. Humility is a virtue, as they say.”
“I have to get Faith back,” he said, ignoring her little jab. “I can’t let those fucking nutjobs keep her.”
Elliot clambered over a log, keeping half of her attention on the sound of voices, still distant enough that she wasn’t worried about it. “In case you’ve forgotten this other small detail,” she continued, “they probably also have Joey, which they wouldn’t, if you had just kept your grimy hands off of her. So, you know—let’s keep in mind we have generally the same goal, here.”
“Thank you,” John muttered tersely, “for keeping us goal-oriented.”
“You’re very welcome, John.” Elliot tugged the sweatpants back up her hips; now, in the dying light of golden hour, she was regretting not changing into her jeans earlier that morning. Of course there was no way she could have known, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
She felt breathless from talking and walking, but the desire to really dig in was too great, overwhelming her need to take a full breath as she added, “It’s my pleasure, truly. Any time you need me, all you have to do is—”
As they wandered down closer to the river, John puffed out, “Do you ever stop talking?”
“I remember a time when all you wanted was for me to talk to you.”
Just as she finished her sentence, about to tack another jab on just for the hell of it—and another thing—she heard shouts, closer now, in a foreign language that she didn’t recognize. She stilled immediately, instinctively reaching and grabbing John’s arm to keep him from continuing on.
He opened his mouth to ask her what she was stopping for, but before he could she waved her hand frantically at him and voicelessly mouthed the words, shut the fuck up. Just one moment was all it would take; one second for them to be heard and they’d be gutted and flayed open, just like Waylon. Elliot did not have any desire to become a floral arrangement any time soon.
The voices echoed again, closer this time. John pushed her hand out of his face and instead pulled her further along the trail, moving with greater purpose this time; the second she started struggling to keep up, he wrapped a firm arm around her midsection and hoisted her, planting her right in front of him before he ducked them into some brush.
(She reckoned the heat in her cheeks was adrenaline, certainly, and not the way it had felt to have John’s chest pressed against her back, his arm warm and strong against her: because it certainly wasn’t that, but perhaps more like a pneumonia fever or just her body crumpling under the stress.)
Dark, heavy boots stormed through the underbrush, talking to each other now in a more conversational tone; though Elliot could hear them chattering and occasionally laughing at what the other said (in Swedish, or perhaps Dutch?) she could see their feet moving with distinct, sharp precision, stopping in time with each other and starting again whenever one of them said something.
Oh, fuck, she thought with a sick, desperate, sinking feeling. They’re so fucking organized. God, fuck.
It was one thing to kill peggies, to storm her way into a compound and smash her head into the face of one or peel into the parking lot in her Jeep, Boomer having gutted two or three of them on their way in; Eden’s Gate members carried only chaotic, frenetic energy, barely held together by their worship of their leader and his siblings. Whatever structure they upheld was purely because they were told to, and it wasn’t a system they could execute on their own, without direction.
She had never fought something, or someone, organized. She had never bashed her face into someone who had thirty other comrades marching down to kill her, spear her on a stick and stuff her mouth with baby’s breath.
I’m only a girl. It was a startling, violent moment of realization, that she had been bumbling her way through this, working purely on emotion and instinct. She was not a practiced, methodical killer, but one born out of necessity. I’m only a girl, I can’t kill people who have their shit together.
Elliot was vaguely aware of her breathing becoming labored, grinding in her lungs, and only became consciously aware of it when John’s hand pressed to her mouth, his arm still wrapped around her stomach. His hands smelled—tasted—like leather and dirt, and it was almost comforting enough to ground her, because for once John didn’t smell like that stupid fucking cologne that she hated, but she could still feel the dirt against her mouth like she was getting buried face down—
The steps slowed, stopping just in front of the brush. Elliot could see a silhouette cut across the forest floor, dappled by the branches of the thicket John had plunged them into, the branches pulling and tugging at her hair and shirt and skin. But she only barely saw it, because John’s back faced the trail they’d just been on, his arms around her. A shield.
“I think they’re gone,” John muttered after what felt like an entire fucking eternity and the voices had faded off, hunched in the brush and coiled around her like a snake, dropping his hand from her mouth. She tried to quiet the panicked roaring in her ears to listen (John didn’t know what to listen for; he didn’t know what it was like to have to hold your breath and hope your hunters passed you by) but she couldn’t; all she could think was oh fuck, oh God, I can’t do this. They’re going to kill me without a blink. They’re going to kill Joey. They’re going to—
“Rook,” John said, his voice firmer now. He must have been convinced their pursuers had moved on. “Rook, my hand.”
Her nails were digging into his wrist, revisiting shallow wounds she had made the night that John had held her under. But he didn’t wince or yank his hand away; he watched her intently, waiting for the iron-clad grip of her fingers to loosen. Elliot closed her eyes for a second, just a second, to ground herself.
I feel: John’s heartbeat, the dirt, the wind. I heard: John’s voice, leaves rustling, the river down below. I smell: dirt, leather, pine sap, humid river air.
She kept waiting for John to push her again. She kept waiting for him to say something stupid—Earth to Elliot?—or demand she get moving, or something equally insufferable, but he stayed like that; chest against her back, eclipsing out the little bit of sun breaking through the brush, waiting.
“I’m fine,” Elliot murmured. She felt like she was on auto-pilot.Too much, her body was screaming at her, the sickness’ sticky hands crawling through her, leaving fingerprints all over her lungs.You’re doing too much. The adrenaline was crashing hard through her body now, and all she wanted to do was puke and then lay down for a nice, long nap. She loosened her grip on his wrist for a moment before letting her hand fall completely from his.
John didn’t say whether or not he believed her, but he stood up slower than he had moved before, peering cautiously around before picking his way out of the brush. He remained (blissfully) silent as Elliot stepped around him; what he lacked in personal relatability, she thought with a sort of familiar dryness, he made up for when he kept his mouth shut.
“Elliot,” he said, ruining her peace, bulldozing over it wildly like he did just about everything else in her life. There was a question somewhere in the way that he said her name, and she felt the pull of the cuffs linking them together when he stopped.
She turned to look at him. He didn’t, for once, look as though he wanted to say something; instead, he was waiting expectantly. For an explanation, she supposed. Or maybe a thank you. That sounded much more like him.
Elliot said, again, “I’m fine,” her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to double over like her body was begging her too. She had never known when to stop, not really, not without someone else telling her. Her mama liked to call it her Too Much gene.
John arched a dark brow at her. His mouth curved in something like a smile, but it was too bitter, too wry, too knowing to be a real smile. She knew his real smile, even if he didn’t think so. She’d seen it. Boyish and—dare she say—endearing. This was not it.
She gathered up all of her willpower and bit out, “John Seed, if we don’t get moving, we’re going to having marigolds and daisies and what the fuck else blooming right out of our gutted rib cages.”
Whatever had been sitting on John’s face was wiped clean by her words. A good old dose of reality. She tugged on the chain impatiently, and he fell into step again with her, trudging through the underbrush.
“And don’t look at me like that,” she snapped out over her shoulder. “I told you, I’m fine.”
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Elliot was not fine.
John would admit —to himself, silently, and never under any other circumstances—that he did not know Elliot Honeysett very well. He did, however, know her enough. The way she’d gripped his wrist, looking for an anchor; the strange, haunted, disconnected way her eyes had flickered from point to point in the nowhere-in-particular when he spoke to her, never quite looking at him. He’d seen those things in her before. He’d seen that look on her face earlier that morning. He’d seen that strange disconnect, a switch of a flip somewhere in her mind, when she’d certainly considered choking one of the guards to death.
All the same, he reasoned as they trudged up a hill, trying to ignore the distant sounds of gunfire that bode poorly and having been walking for what he could only guess was hours now, it was odd. Having her cling onto him. Clutch his wrist for support. It was—
(nice)
—strange, to think about Elliot needing him, in the same way the realization had unseated him when he had understood she’d been relying on him to keep her safe at the ranch.
“Did you take that Tylenol?” he asked absently, an afterthought, still mulling over their odd closeness in the woods, trying to pin down why it writhed and squirmed in the cavity of his chest. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, and a slow, uneasy chill had crawled through the air. “Back at the ranch.”
“Do I look like an idiot?” Elliot huffed out, pausing halfway up the hill, to try and catch her breath.
“That was rhetorical, before you consider replying with astonishing honesty,” the blonde snipped out after a moment of breathing.
Her voice sounded raspier now, like she’d picked up chain-smoking. She cocked her head, looking at him for a moment, her hands on her hips; she had Jacob’s old sweats wadded up to her waist—so small, John thought absently, she’s been losing weight like crazy—and an old gray undershirt of his tied in a knot at her stomach. Her ponytail was practically disengaged completely, big chunks of her blonde hair falling into her face and sticking to her cheeks and jaw. She looked feverish, or maybe out of shape, though John suspected it was much more likely to be the former than the latter.
John replied, “I would hate to disappoint your opinion of me.”
“Cute.” Elliot pushed her way up the last half of the hill, cresting the top and finally—finally, because he could tell she’d been waiting to do this—bent over at her hips, hands on the tops of her thighs. They were probably a good hundred yards from the ranch now, in the thickest part of the woods and in the farthest reach from the driveway, which Elliot had insisted on. “Good fucking God, I never want to move for the rest of my life.”
“You’d probably feel better if you took that Tylenol I left you.”
“Hey. Hey, John?” She snapped her fingers at him, not looking at him but waving wildly. “Hey. Oh, yeah? Shut the fuck up.”
“Somehow,” John mused, peering through the trees to see if he could get a glimpse of the ranch, “you are even unpleasant when subdued by sickness, deputy.”
He’d become so accustomed to her casual venom that it was almost a comfort, now. He would know something was wrong with her when she wasn’t trying to bite his head off, but at least for now, bound together by metal, he knew she wasn’t going to try and kill him. It would be too much of a hassle to try and drag his corpse along through the woods.
I have to get Faith, John thought, eyes straining to see through the trees but his body reluctant to get any closer to the treeline. I have to get her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s all fucked, the whole lot of it. They’ve got her on some shit again. Fuck.
Joseph would be so angry; more than that, Faith was certainly going to be scared out of her mind, once the drugs wore off.
“They’re here.” Elliot’s voice shook him out of his thoughts; she had caught her breath, for now, and wandered closer to the treeline. Her brows furrowed together, and for a second John almost laughed at how ridiculous it was to have her face so serious when she refused to give him back his glasses.
Any humor that he might have felt was ripped away when he followed her gaze to see what he saw: the nondescript gray vans, parked in a semi-circle, leaving an exit down the drive. He watched a few of the men in their dark clothes guiding members of Eden’s Gate into the back of the van. Ase, and Faith, and Ase's red-haired executioner man were nowhere to be seen.
“They aren’t fighting,” John muttered as he watched the members of Eden's Gate hand their weapons over. He felt something sick deep in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, John,” Elliot began, and he thought, don’t fucking say it, but she plunged on regardless, “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got yourself a brood of followers, not leaders.”
“They’re devout,” John insisted bitingly. It welled up inside of him—perhaps embarrassment, or humiliation—and he swallowed thickly. “They’re just surviving, that’s all. It would be stupid for them to all get killed.”
The blonde shot him a look through the side of her expression, wary. She didn’t need to say anything for him to figure out what it meant. Sure, John. They certainly let me and the others mow them down no problem, but right now, they’re just surviving.
“We can’t get into the ranch now,” Elliot ventured after a moment, stepping back from the treeline. “The best thing to do is wait and see if they leave. They don’t strike me as a home-base type of crazy, but you never know; maybe those weird cell-like rooms you put in the basement will tickle their fancy.”
“What?” John demanded. He trailed after her, indignant. “We’re just going to let them take Faith and leave?”
Elliot sighed. She looked to be working something between her teeth, words she wanted to say to him but that she was taking care to mull over first, and he didn’t know if that relieved him or filled him with more dread.
“Yes,” she said after a moment, and he thought, definitely more dread, I like it better when she talks impulsively.
“Tell me this is a stupid joke,” John insisted. Elliot’s lashes fluttered. A strange flicker of emotion streaked across her face, as brilliant and short-lived as a shooting start, and his stomach knotted when he thought it might have been pity.
“We have to. They obviously aren’t planning on killing her, John; if they were, they wouldn’t have flaunted her in front of your face,” Elliot replied, starting to walk again, carefully picking her way down a small ravine and then following its slope downwards, towards the river again.
John’s feet moved forward, even when he didn’t want to, even when he wanted to turn back around and storm the ranch and demand Faith be returned back to him. Finally, eventually, he willed himself to stop, as though he only just remembered that he was the bigger of the two of them and carried the most weight in their little red-rover chain.
“We can’t leave her with them,” he insisted. “That’s bullshit, deputy. Just because she’s not one of yours—”
Elliot turned to look at him. Her eyes were narrowed, and she pulled on the chain, hard, the way that John had done to her, yanking him forward abruptly.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, John Seed, but I’ve got more experience doing rescue missions for people kidnapped by cults than you do.” Her voice was hard, venomous. “They could have Joseph in there at gun-point and I’d still rescue him.”
John felt the anger blooming in his chest. “I never took you for a liar.”
“I was never going to kill a little fucking girl,” Elliot replied viciously. “And that’s what she is, even if Joseph pumped her full of poison. I was never going to kill any of you Seeds.”
“No?” John demanded. “Then what?”
A moment of silence stretched between them. It welled with something, somethingsoemthingsomething that John wanted to grapple with his hands and squeeze, but that he couldn't.
She said, after a few heartbeats, “Put you in jail to rot, you fuckhead.” Elliot turned on her heel and started marching again. “Death would be too kind an ending for you.”
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By the time they found a spot to stop, it was nearly completely dark. They had walked in almost complete silence after her little proclamation, enough to make him wonder if that odd moment of closeness had been a figment of his imagination after all.
Elliot picked a spot out for them close to the river, but still kept shadowed by the shrubs, and John didn’t have much will to argue with her anymore; her words kept sliding around in his head like marbles. Death would be too kind an ending for you.
He knew what she was really saying, with that. If I have to suffer with living, her voice said, beyond the words, then so do you.
The blonde was shivering as she loaded John’s arms up with wood (much to his chagrin; he’d already put this Versace shirt through enough, and now she was doing this), and by the time they got a fire going he thought she might pass out from the entirety of the day.
“Cold, deputy?” John asked mildly, watching her untie the knot of the shirt and slink her arms into the over-sized fabric, huddled by the small fire they’d (she’d) made. She glared at him.
“Well—”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he interjected, as though he could hear it already. “I know you’ve got pneumonia, and it's all my fault, as I willed it upon you.”
“Goody,” Elliot replied. There was no bite in her voice anymore; exhaustion was pulling at the edges of her expression, tugging her voice down, and John felt almost a bit of relief at the knowledge that maybe they were done trading blows. For now.
Lit by firelight, she looked softer. There was still an open wound where she’d really dug her words in, and maybe it was still bleeding a little, but John could feel the evening chill sinking into his bones now too, even with the sleeves of his button-up rolled down. So yes; Elliot did look softer, and smaller, and warmer, and John would be stupid to willingly get pneumonia so that they were both huffing and puffing through the woods.
He acquiesced, after a moment of silence and as though relenting to his own mental argument, “It would be warmer if we shared body heat.”
The look she shot him might as well have been daggers. “What,” she quipped, “being handcuffed to me isn’t enough for you?” I suppose we aren't done trading blows after all.
“Look, I’m not dressed for a Montana night out in the woods,” he insisted, “and certainly neither are you. You’re already sick.”
Elliot scoffed and rolled her eyes.
He ventured, again, “You already said we can’t leave the fire burning all night. The smoke would give us away.”
“And I’m also saying that there’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you spoon me,” Elliot replied, closing her eyes. “If you get hypothermia, then maybe it’s the karmic universe telling you to go fuck yourself.”
“Oh, very nice, deputy.”
He sighed, stretched out on his side and drinking up as much of the fire’s warmth as he could before Elliot would, inevitably, stamp it out and try to get some sleep. The ground was soft and mossy, and while John couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in the same clothes he’d been running around in, the day had begun to take its toll on him.
“If you change your mind,” John continued, “I can assure you I’m an excellent big spoon.”
Elliot scoffed, again, and he thought, oh, well. Maybe the karmic universe will serve me something after all, but we’ll have to wait and see, and let his eyes drift shut.
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when he first felt a change. It could have been thirty minutes, or a few hours; Elliot’s sleep schedule was so unknown to him—and certainly changed by her illness—that he couldn’t have wagered if he wanted to. But he was still mostly asleep when he felt the warmth of her body tucked against his, shivering, like a leaf in the wind. There was still a soft detergent scent to her clothes, even after everything, and her head fit just under his chin.
John shifted. He didn’t need to open his eyes to tell it was Elliot, and not a bear or mountain lion trying to find the best way to carve out his intestines; Elliot’s hair brushed along his jaw, and she pulled his arm over her like a blanket.
“Is this my karmic retribution?” he rumbled, half asleep still. Elliot’s teeth chattered.
“Just consider this making yourself useful,” she replied. Her voice was muffled from her face being tucked against his shirt. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes, boss.”
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He had expected to get woken up gently, by the rising sun, or perhaps the feeling of Elliot disengaging from their only-for-warmth spooning session.
Instead, John was woken abruptly by the feeling of a cold, wet nose pressing into his face, hot, stinking breath whuffling across his face.
“What—the fuck—”
John swatted the air blindly, the smell of dog breath wafting over his face as he struggled into a sitting position. It took a moment for him to right himself, to get a good grasp on his surroundings; their handcuffs were still linked. Elliot was awake, and sitting up already, and beaming as a Blue Heeler stared at John.
As soon as his eyes landed on the dog, it barked at him. Loudly. All of the hair on the hound’s spine rose, all the way down to the base of its tail, and a low, nasty growl rose in its throat.
“Boomer,” Elliot said, and immediately the dog sat. Boomer’s eyes darted between Elliot and John, wary and uncertain. The blonde, however, looked happier than John thought he’d ever seen her, reaching out and ruffling the dog’s hair until it lay flat again, smiling. “Look, John, Boomer found us.”
“Oh,” John replied, “your killer beast. Excellent.”
Elliot laughed. It was as though Boomer was waiting for the sound; he barked, happily this time (could dogs bark in different tones, John wondered), tail wagging furiously as he crowded Elliot for her attention.
“Don’t worry,” the blonde said, giving John a sly look, “he only bites on command.”
#fic: ancient names#otp: death keep off; i am your enemy#far cry 5#far cry fic#john seed x oc#john seed/deputy#ch: elliot honeysett#ch: john seed#john seed/oc#my writing#THAT'S RIGHT BABY#BOOMER'S IN#time to kick john tf off the team#BYE BITCH#i'm just kidding i'd never do that to him#we love john#i'm!!!! so sorry this took so long!!!!!!#but we back in it#quarantine who? i don't know her#i mean i'm still in quarantine but#the writer's block she was shoving in my face is gone now
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“Redemption” Chapter 12
AU: Supernatural
Title: Redemption
Chapter: Twelve
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader
Word Count: 2,293
Pairing: Getting There….
Warnings: Mentions of being restrained, being drugged, and being undressed/re-clothed while unconscious.
A/N: This chapter flips between (Y/N)’s POV and more of Dean’s POV. Feel free to provide feedback / comments / suggestions / etc. Thanks for sticking around.
Chapter 11 | Chapter 13 | Masterlist
You awoke groggily, your eyes struggling to open. The only time you could ever recall feeling this way was after having your tonsils removed. The drugs the doctors had given you to knock you out for the surgery had also made everything, your eyelids included, heavy and slow to respond. Fear flitted through you as you recalled the burning of your lungs as you ran past cornstalk after cornstalk and the fierce grip of strangers’ hands upon your wrists, just before everything went black. Had they drugged you? They must have, you couldn’t recall much of anything after the black fabric was pulled over your head. Shit.
You tried to steady your breathing and take in your environment the best you could, even without vision. Your thoughts felt hazy, too, you noted as you tried to focus on your other senses. You were cold, your wrists were bound behind your back by something metal, and all you could hear was the quiet dripping of nearby water… by the sounds of it there wasn’t a lot of water, either. It almost sounded like a sink faucet had been all but turned off, allowing only the slightest dribble of liquid to flow through and pool until it formed a droplet heavy enough to fall. You inhaled deeply through your nose and scrunched up your face at the familiar scent of mildew mingled with dirt.
You wiggled your toes and realized they were no longer covered by the socks and shoes you previously wore. You could feel the gritty texture of damp earth beneath your bare feet, bringing the realization upon you that you were no longer in any of your clothing. Whatever you wore now felt more like a skimpy silk nightgown or lingerie than actual clothing. You shuddered at the thought of someone unknown undressing you while you were unconscious.
With a strain, your eyelids managed to part. There was little to no light but you tried nonetheless to strain your eyes and take in your environment. You were underground or in a cave of some kind and you couldn’t tell if the darkness came from your location alone or if it was still night.
“Ah, she awakens…” a feminine voice whispered through the dark.
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*Dean’s perspective
“I don’t think she took the road, Dean,” Sam tried to keep his tone neutral. They had decided to check the home they had found her at last, where she had worked to earn some extra cash for them. When they found no one in the house or on the property they had taken the car back the other direction, hoping against hope to see her walking somewhere along the side of the road.
“I’m starting to think you’re right, Sammy. Son of a bitch,” Dean hit the steering wheel with his palm out of frustration.
The elder Winchester pulled the Impala back into its place at the motel. Within minutes the brothers had gathered several precautionary items from the trunk of the car and headed out on foot. (Y/N) had a considerable head-start on the two of them but they weren’t about to give up and leave her to fend for herself.
At Sam’s suggestion the they rounded the building, instead of heading to the front of it and the road. They searched for signs that (Y/N) had been anywhere near here, their eyes straining through the dark of the night. Dean had never noticed before now, but there was a dirt road, just wide enough for a four-wheeler, leading away from the paved lot of the motel. He headed toward it, beckoning his brother to follow.
-----
*(Y/N)’s perspective
Your gaze snapped upward at the sound of the voice. You could vaguely make out a silhouette standing about a yard in front of where you sat against a stone wall. You bit your tongue, refusing to answer them.
“They will want to see you soon,” the hushed voice continued, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
Your thoughts flew back to Sam and Dean. They had tried to tell you it wasn’t safe where you were, hadn’t they? But then the foggy memories had come to light, revealing them to be dangerous. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you fought back tears. You were alone, really and truly alone, and there was no way out of this.
A cold hand made painful contact with your cheek, causing your head to snap to the side and bringing you from your reverie, “I am speaking to you, oblation.”
“Fuck off,” you spat toward the woman. What had she called you? Your mind began to race over every English word you could recall. Oblation did not appear to be one of them.
The woman hissed at you, actually hissed, before retreating to the spot she had previously occupied. Psychotic woman, check. Shackles, check. What may as well be a dungeon? Check. You had to find a way out of here.
-----
*Dean’s perspective
“Dean,” Sam nudged his brother as he aimed his light toward a cornfield up ahead.
They had followed the dirt road as quickly as they could while still looking for signs of (Y/N) everywhere. One of the cornstalks at the edge of the road was bent and leaning over. The brothers’ eyes met and Dean rushed into the field, this being their only lead.
“Dean!” Sam followed his brother into the crop, “This could be nothing, Dean.”
“Yeah, well it could be something, Sammy, and I don’t have anything else to go on. Do you?”
Sam sighed and followed his brother into the vegetation. It was still dark and they had no way of knowing which way she could possibly have gone, he worried they would end up lost in the middle of the corn in the middle of the night and lose any hope of finding her.
“Sam, I’ve got more broken stalks up here, I think we’re heading the right way,” Dean hollered over his shoulder. Sam’s lips pressed into a thin line but he followed regardless.
-----
*(Y/N)’s perspective
You had no idea how much time had passed since you had opened your eyes. There was no shift in the lighting and your only indication that time had indeed moved forward was the growing stiffness in your joints. As quietly as you could you stretched your legs out, taking stock of the fact that your feet and legs were not bound. You tried to stretch your arms out behind you, feeling along the stone for any kind of chain or bracket that may hold you to the wall itself, but could find nothing. Your mouth was not gagged, either. This didn’t fit the pattern of any kidnapping you had ever heard of before, that you could remember. Don’t the movies usually show legs and arms tied, eyes covered, tape over the lips, and chained to a wall or post? All you had were the metal links holding your wrists together behind you. Oh, and crazy-ass hissing lady standing guard. Well, that and the fact that you could barely see anything and had no idea where you were.
“What are the chances of getting some water?” You spoke up, hoping you might be able to get some information out of your supposed-guard.
You could hear her muffled footsteps as she approached you. Her shadow loomed near you and suddenly you felt warm spit hit you in the face. You jerked your head back in shock at the contact as she snickered.
“Fuck off,” she sneered as she walked away from you once more.
How the hell did she see in the dark? She obviously could, at least a hell of a lot better than you could. Getting the drop on her would be hard. This is her territory; she knows it better than you, even if she couldn’t see better than you could. Maybe that was the reason for the low security. You had been drugged and thrown into a pit you couldn’t make heads or tails of, you had no lighting, no weapons, no shoes for hells sake.
Ok, steady breaths, (Y/N). You thought to yourself. You weren’t going to escape if you were busy panicking, and you sure as hell weren’t going to just sit here and wait around for whatever that bitch had in mind for you.
-----
*Dean’s perspective
“Sammy, I think we’re almost to the end…”
“Dean… uh, is the forest?” Sam’s eyes widened as they approached the looming darkness ahead of them.
“Shit,” Dean breathed.
The two men slowed their pace as they broke through the last of the corn stalks and into the thicket of trees. She could have gone any direction from here, and if these were the woods on the western outskirts of town then they were screwed.
“Dean, this isn’t looking good…”
“Shut it, Sammy. We move forward, we’re not giving up on her.”
Sam lifted his arms in surrender, “I didn’t say we should, Dean, but maybe it would be better to wait for the sun—”
“No,” Dean’s voice was stern, “She already has too far of a head-start and at this rate they might already have her, Sammy. We can’t wait.”
“What is that?” Sam’s light shone on a small bundle of color that stood out against the darkness surrounding them. The older brother approached it while Sam kept his eyes peeled about them for any sign of danger.
“Fuck,” Dean swore under his breath as he picked up the material. He recognized the shirt in his hands as one he had seen (Y/N) wear quite often. The soft fabric still smelled like her shampoo but it was cold, no traces of body heat left. “It’s hers, Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes came back to his brother and focused on what he had in his grasp. He stepped forward quickly, taking the clothing from his brother’s grasp. “Shit, Dean. We gotta find them before it’s too late.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Right, well, it was to the left of the tree, so let’s head that way,” Sam directed his light to their left.
“And if it’s misdirection?”
“I don’t know, Dean, it’s not like we can go everywhere at once.”
Dean swore again before taking the shirt from his brother’s grasp and pocketing it in the inside of his jacket. He marched away, to their left, just as his kid brother had suggested. He knew Sam’s mind was thinking more clearly than his, his was far too clouded by emotion, and hell- they wouldn’t have made it this far if he hadn’t listened to the nerd back at the motel to begin with. He just wasn’t going to tell Sam, that. No need to let his already-inflated head get any bigger.
-----
*(Y/N)’s perspective
Pushing down the trepidation you felt, you slowly shifted in your spot, trying to quietly get to your feet. You couldn’t crawl with your hands behind your back and there was no use trying to walk on your knees when your feet weren’t bound. Besides, you had an idea to bring your arms to your front. The woman standing guard didn’t move, that you could tell, and she definitely didn’t address you. Maybe you could get away with this, after all. You grasped the metal restraints to try to prevent any unnecessary noise as you tried to move your arms up, manipulating your joints into odd angles and pulling your wrists over your head, bringing your hands in front of you. It hurt like hell to stretch your joints in ways they weren’t used to going, but this gave you options.
Your mind raced over your only plan as you began to tip-toe toward the figure of your only guard. You had no weapons, and you knew you lacked the strength to hit the woman hard enough to do anything but aggravate her. You didn’t know if you had the strength to overcome her at all, but you had to try. You couldn’t hold out hope that the Winchesters would find you, and frankly, you weren’t positive you wanted them to.
As quickly as you could you threw your arms over the woman’s head and jerked her backward, using the chain between the cuffs on your wrists as a garrote. She gasped, her hands clutched at the chain desperately as you cut off her air supply, dragging her back into the dark until your back hit the cold stone you had previously sat against. The woman struggled against you, trying desperately to hit you. Her elbow came back into your gut, earning a breathy grunt from you. You ground your teeth together, refusing to allow yourself to bend over as pain blossomed in your abdomen. Instead, you forced yourself to pull harder, forcing her body into yours as you put more pressure on her neck. Her unwashed stench filled your nostrils and you swallowed bile as it rose in your throat, burning as it made its way up. What felt like an eternity passed before her body finally fell limp, the unexpected pull of the dead weight dragging you down with her. Releasing your hold on her you rolled away, gasping for air. Before you went further you checked her pulse, ensuring you hadn’t killed her. She was simply unconscious. She would wake up with a migraine from hell, but she would wake up. Despite how evil she seemed; you couldn’t bring yourself to actually kill her.
You allowed yourself to lie on your back for a moment, quietly bringing your breathing back to normal. Fear crept back into your mind as you thought over what you had just done. Where the hell had you learned to do that? Who were you?
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#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fic#spn fanfic#spn fic#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#reader pov#y/n#reader insert fanfic#reader insert#larki writes#larkiwrites#larkiwrites redemption#supernatural#spn#the winchester boys#eventual dean x reader#slow burn
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𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⟡ yandere!
-pairing: yandere! ? x reader
-word count: what are numbers?
-warnings: gore, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of torture, use of drugs, bondage, and death
-notes: based of off patema inverted
-lowercase intended
-⟡-
a catastrophe arose from a harmless experiment, throwing the world and millions of lives, into the sky. the blue abyss showed no mercy in what it devoured.
those who survived hid deep below the surface fearing calamity and destruction once more, and as time passed, the incident was falsely recorded. the people who were not affected by the shift in gravity began to refer to the other as the inverted, 倒さ, or perhaps, sinners.
-⟡-
the specks of light mingled with the rising dust, showering the passage in beaming specks. the flashlight hardly illuminated the dark tunnel from which she had arrived from, paling in comparison to the illumination from this cavern.
it’s so stuffy in here
removing her mask, she looked around more, walking further down the elevated platform. a darkness enveloped the empty air below her, the distance from the ground immeasurable at first glance.
i better head back
starting with a slow trot, she began to reenter the tunnel, breaking into a sprint once she reached the restricted barrier. carefully crawling below the safety tape, she leaped through her window, maybe they haven’t noticed that i-
“(l/n) (y/n)! what did i say about entering the restricted section?” a reprimanding voice exclaimed, “this is why-”
“now now gramps, we don’t talk about him here, take a chill pill bro,” ryoga said, feigning disinterest by looking at his hands, “besides, we found another food ration box in that section thanks to her. following your old rules doesn't necessarily equal success or survival, stop being such a,” drawing a box in the air, “square.”
“your father would disapprove of your sentiment, i’m disappointed in both of you. we’ve survived this long because of our laws, to change that would upset the balance-”
“yeah well you and your balance can suck it, lets go (y/n)” he said, offering her his hand. she cautiously took it, glancing back and forth at gramps and the floor. the two rushed out while the old man sighed.
“ i’m sorry (f/n), but it appears your daughter takes after you too much. i’m scared. what if i can’t-” he shook his head, “i must protect her..it’s the least i could do for you, (f/n).”
-⟡-
“report”
“sir, we’ve found one of them,” a masked individual reported back, “shall we commence with the procedure as planned?”
“yes, bring them to me at once,” he replied, smirking into his microphone, “all as planned...”
-⟡-
against the well wishes of her grandfather, (y/n) found herself once again at the cavern, the luminescence beckoning her forward. a loud bang reverberated around the cavern, awakening her from her reverie.
what was that?
evidently spooked, she turned back to the passage, only to see a masked figure, feet firmly planted on the ceiling in the distance.
a bat humanoid?! no, i’m probably daydreaming...
the being charged forward, a strange black box pointed in her direction. upon closer inspection, it appeared as if electricity coursed around the container. sweat slowly trickled down her face as she panted profusely. grabbing a metal pipe, she brandished it, puffing out her chest. the silhouette lunged forward, sending the sparks down the iron tube, shocking her hands.
shrieking, she dropped her weapon, scrambling back to the platform. they did not follow her, seemingly providing an idea of safety, for now. sinking to her knees, she rested her head on a side-rail. she took of her mask, allowing her hot skin to cool off.
i wonder in gramps or ryoga will find me...?
the rail buckled under her weight, throwing her body into the abyss, her screams unheard by anyone.
-⟡-
her eyelids felt extremely heavy as if they weighted several pounds, her headache not boding well with the rest of her aching body.
yikes that ticklish
what’s ticklish? her eyes sprung open, to find herself tangled in a tree..? it looked exactly like that of which was in her storybooks, asides from the fact it was growing upside down! staring downward, she blinked to make sure she was awake.
an endless sea of blue with specks of white, which according to (f/n) stories, where “clouds.” it was beautiful, vast, and-
her bag slipped off her shoulder, bouncing off the branches before falling into the open “sky.” shivering, (y/n) realized this vast nothingness would swallow her whole. there would be no coming back.
it’s terrifying. (f/n), i’m scared.
tears started forming in the corner of her eyes as she began to fall through the tree. scrapes, bruises, and pain all paled in comparison to the idea of her death.
“help me please! anybody! just please-” she cried out as her body plummeted down.
an outstretched hand grabbed her trembling arm, anchoring her down. she silently sobbed, pulling her self closer to the appendage. blinking through her tears, she vaguely saw a boy, perhaps her age, standing on grass, staring at her.
he was upside down.
“w-what do you want from me?” she stuttered, lips trembling, “i don’t have anything.”
the male sympathetically smiled at her, “where you attacked by someone?”
“you! you’re an inverted!” she exclaimed struggling to free her hand.
“the same could be said for you,” he replied nonchalantly, “and i’m sure you don’t want to fall into the sky, given your desperate display, so don’t let go.”
her face flushed pink at this, “who do you think you are?”
he smiled sadly staring up into the sky, “i don’t know. i’m supposed to be 00127, but my father used to call me hiro. how do you want me to answer your question?” shocked by his response, she did not reply.
he started taking long strides, testing out his weight with the girl in tow. it felt as though he weighed nothing, like he was flying-
“hey! i’m falling again!” she exclaimed, 00127 realizing his feet where no longer planted on the ground.
“my bad, lets get you inside, miss..” he asked looking up, waiting for a response.
“(y/n). remember it,” she said, averting her face from his gaze. the male smiled, noting the hint of red on her ears.
-⟡-
“what do you mean, you lost her? are you fucking around with me?” he barked at the bat-like person, who flinched, “gosh, you lot are all useless. check every surveillance camera in the area. if you lose her, i will kill you myself.”
pulling out his gun, he pointed it at the trembling figure below him, “let this man serve as an example of the consequences for failure.”
bang
“clean up this mess at once. blood stains aren’t very pleasant now are they?”
-⟡-
“so you love the sky?” she pondered, munching on a dorayaki, “and your dad did too?”
“maybe it’s an obsession that’s eating me alive,” he sighed, staring up once again, “who knows?”
“you talk like my gramps, act like your age for a day,” she whined, laying on the ceiling of the storage unit. peering out the door, she gazed at the airspace.
“yeah okay then,” he exclaimed half hardheartedly, “let’s get it.”
“i guess that’s good enough,” she drawled, “(f/n) is way better anyway.”
“who is that?” he asked inquisitively, slightly bothered by the fact another man’s name was being thrown around so casually.
“no one in particular,” she said, folding her arms, “so how did your father build a flying device? how does it work?”
“i don’t actually know, it floated up many years ago,” he sighed, tousling his dark hair.
“well you could just ask him-”
“he’s dead,” 00127 interjected, “he fell out of his own contraption.”
“oh- i’m sorry to hear that,” she said looking down, or rather up.
“everyone claimed it was divine action, only sinners travel up the sky,” he groaned, “such bullshit, all of it.”
“do you think that?” she asked, staring into his eyes intensely.
“no. i don’t think i would have helped you otherwise.”
“hey, what’s that sound?” (y/n) inquired, listening to a loud rumble in the distance.
00127 peered out from behind the shed, “oh shit.”
“what’s wrong? is it the bat-like man?” she frantically questioned.
“more like men, we gotta run,” he said, “come on.” he reached his arms up, “what are you waiting for?”
she tentatively grasped them, boots placed right on the door frame. the two sprung out, dashing across the great field. the sprint turned into large leaps as the duo floating forward.
“if we can get to the hole where we meet, i’m sure we can get you home!” he exclaimed, “i promise, i will take you home back to your family.”
an unknown feeling filled (y/n)’s chest, why did she feel so giddy?
shwing
a large net flew towards her, knocking her out of 00127′s grasp. the sticky material enveloped her body, rendering her immobile. he fell, tumbling back down to earth, the heavy weights attached to the mesh work, pulling her down with him.
“and success! the sinner has been captured. be sure to discipline the defect, we wouldn’t want another accident to happen to that family,” he exclaimed, a coy smile forming on his face as he ordered his men.
-⟡-
“wakey wakey! eggs and bakey?” a singsong voice crooned, “my sweet sinner, it’s about time you woke up.”
she opened her eyes, only to face another boy her age. his outfit greatly contrasted 00127′s, rather than a suit, it was more of a robe.
speaking of which, where is-
“tch, he’s not here,” the boy scoffed, “i wouldn’t go looking for trouble anyway.”
she tried to rush backward, only to realize her movement had been restricted, the grates in the ceiling kept her feet in place. a chain fastened her hands together, paired with a strange cylinder attached to her leg.
“now now, we don’t want this to hurt more than it should. we promised (f/n) that we would be gentle with the next sinner.” caressing her face lightly, he stared into her eyes, “or that we’d try at least.”
“what did you do to (f/n)?!” she exclaimed, smacking away his hand, “answer me you bastard!”
shaking his head, the boy sighed, “i suppose you two do look very similar, but i think i should see for myself.” switching a lever, a large curtain in the back parted.
(f/n)..?
the familiar figure was suspended in a jar, unmoving.
shaking, the (h/c) girl could hardly contain her rage, “you fucking monster! i hope you get swallowed by the sky”
“i see you still don’t understand your position. well then, allow me to remind you,” he said, the tone sending shivers down her spine. grabbing the chain, he pulled her protesting form out to the balcony, her feet no longer rooted to anything.
the cylinder appeared to pull her even further up, she would fall
“your life in in my hands sweetheart, step out of line again, and i won’t hesitate to destroy that pretty face of yours.” he chuckled, reveling in her terrified expression.
tears began to well up again as she instinctively grasped his arm. she didn’t want this, especially clinging to a scoundrel for her life. sacrificing her dignity to stay alive is by all means demeaning.
she swallowed her pride as she wrapped her arms around his torso, resigning her self to him.
“it would appear you’ve understood your place,” he said smirking into her stomach, his own arms snaking around her, “never forget who is in charge, (y/n).”
-⟡-
“you appear to be in a better mood recently sir,” a security officer remarked to the young man, “what could it be?”
“the sinner is mine,” he sneered, “i love that expression of hers when she realizes she is utterly at my mercy. she has no right to refuse me, i am the only reason she is alive,” he trailed off, shivering with excitement, “i’m going to exterminate all the sinners for simply being in her presence. she needs to thoroughly understand she is mine and mine alone.”
the officer masked his surprise at the sir’s strange behavior. not to long ago he only sought to exterminate anything that threatens him be it sinner or civilian, but now...
how unusual.
-⟡-
00011 or as he preferred, master, had constructed a bed at the highest point in the city, the only thing separating the void and her was a thin mattress. the stars and sky she cherished so much invoked a deep fear, it was suffocating.
“00127...”
“yes (y/n)?”
“i must be hearing things now,” she frowned, looking up, right into familiar red orbs, “i’m even seeing things now.”
“what if i said i was here, or that i wasn’t? what would you believe?” he questioned, cocking his head to the right.
“old man?” she jokingly inquired.
he smiled, “the one and only.”
she quickly embraced him, she wasn’t letting go of her hope now, or ever. he reciprocated the gesture. tired of being able to do nothing, he had to change to reach what he wanted.
“i’d have to be insane to ever let go of you again,” he whispered in her ear, “ryoga even came here to help, lets get you out of here.”
“i don’t think so,” a voice laced with disdain echoed throughout the glass dome. 00011 crept out of the shadows, looking absolutely livid. 00127 snarled as he clung to the girl, eyeing the figure at the bottom of the stairs, wary of the shinning gun.
clenching the grip, the seething boy fastened his finger on the trigger, “it’s pointless to cling to hope like that, my dear sinner, whose hand is your life in?”
“shut up you little bitch,” ryoga exclaimed, leaping from underneath baluster pouncing the man. the two grappled for control midair, both seemed equally matched. (y/n) took advantage of the commotion to fling the chair above her down, shattering the glass dome.
grasping hands, they prepared to jump,
bang
blood floated up past the destroyed ceiling, the crimson liquid seeping from ryoga’s wound. his body slowly ascended but came to an abrupt stop, as his top caught on the metal framework.
“ryoga! how dare you? you sick motherfucker i hop-” she roared, fiercely glaring at the boy below her. rage coarsed through her body, her entire frame was shaking.
00127 leapt, the two quickly rose up, falling into the endless sky, “i’m sorry,” he lamented, tears trickling down his face, “but perhaps this isn’t that bad after all. you’re all that i have left.”
they soared up, both unsure what would arrive next as they grasped each other. perhaps they had both accepted death as they passed the clouds.
a ceiling. a multitude of buildings protruded from the sky, a vast abandoned city came into focus. the duo gasped as (y/n)’s feet met cool metal.
this situation had completely flipped.
00127′s eyes shook with fear. below him layed an expanse of nothing, threatening to devour him alive.
she held on reassuringly, knowing he would overcome his fears, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, “it’s okay. i won't let go, you know.”
he possessively latched to her, burrowing his face into her chest. she moved forward, slowly absorbing their surroundings.
“hey, what that?” she exclaimed, pointing at a familiar gold contraption. 00127 gasped.
“it’s my fathers-”
she sprinted as fast as she could, allowing him to climb down into the belly of the vehicle. he picked up a photograph of two men, standing in front of the device. his father and a familiar looking (h/c) male.
“(f/n)-” she sobbed. he held out his hand, and she gladly took it.
“let’s get you back to your family (y/n),” he said as their tears mingled.
“yeah,” she replied staring at his face. grabbing his cheeks, she brought her face close to his. placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, she smiled, “let’s get out of here.”
-⟡-
they slowly descended, and despite having solid footing, intertwined hands. 00011 gawked in disbelief at two familiar figures entered the sphere of cameras. the crazy bastard actually followed through. he barked orders at his men, it was time to set the rest of the plan in action.
“can we head straight down from where i came from?” (y/n) inquired, resting her head on his shoulder. she grinned, looking down into his eyes only to flinch back. 00127’s eyes where cold and unfeeling, an unmoving glacier. deeper and darker than the sky that once threatened to swallow her, it evoked so much fear.
without warning, he forced her body down, his thighs strategically placed on both sided.
“what was that for asshole?” she yelled, grabbing his collar. a sticky net whizzed over their heads as he forced her head down.
breathing heavily, he frowns, “i’m trying to help you.” he peered over the side of the vehicle, “it’s those bastards again. persistent, i’ll hand it to them, tenacious fuckers.”
“have you taken up my offer, boy?” 00011 sneered into his megaphone, “or should i shoot you after all?”
“i already did what you requested of me,” 00127 snarled, “i don’t recall any other requirements.”
“well, you see, i’ve changed my mind. it appears i was ensnared by my own trap, as i cannot allow you to leave with the sinner,” he replied tauntingly, his pervasive gaze didn’t go unnoticed by the shivering girl, “she is quite tempting, it’s as if i’m being enticed. ah! this feeling, i can’t get enough.”
“you promised,” 00127 exclaimed, his grip on her head tightening, “you said, if i did it, you’d leave me and her alone!”
“share her then?” he replied, glancing at his watch, and back at the descending vehicle, “time is ticking make it fast.”
“am i some sort of foreign object you intend to monopolize? am i not capable of thinking and doing for myself, because you are certainly seeing it that way,” she screamed indignantly. shoving 00127 off her waist, she locked her feet on the top of the contraption, “fuck off you pompous brat. and you,” (y/n) scowled at 00127, “me and her? don’t mess me with that shit, we aren’t lovers for gods sake! f-”
a stinging sensation stopped her from continuing, tingles ran down her spine as a dart lodged itself in her neck. the netted roof caught her limp body as the golden machine came thudding down on the grassy plain.
she couldn’t move, not even a finger. the numbing feeling coated her figure
“it appears someones wings need to be trimmed once more,” 00011 sighed approaching the apparatus, “my beautiful bird, who do you think you can trust? the boy beneath you? the same youth who released poisonous gas on your community, upon my orders? you foolishness is quite endearing, but i have neglected educating you. i should protect you more.”
“we,” 00127 stood up while dropping the tranquilizer gun, gazing into her (e/c) eyes, “we are going to protect you. you’re all i have left and i’d be damned to let you leave me.”
pulling her down into a suffocating embrace, the two boys donned matching smirks, everything had fallen into place, exactly as planned.
“ours”
-⟡-
#yandere x reader#two yanderes#triangle type shit#yandere#oneshot#patema inverted#yandere unknown#gore#inverted#𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝#unaffiliated with kpop#still#this is a yandere blog#so yeah#yandere male#yandere males x reader#beware if you don't like falling and gravity lmao#(y/n)#can't remember if i used [y/n] or (y/n) last fic#but okay#bet no one saw this coming#hahahaha maniacal laughs#reader insert
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Cold Feet - Part 13
An unfortunate chain of events.
Song: Only love can hurt like this - Paloma Faith
You had to be quick. Charles would be back any minute. Your hands shuffled the pieces of paper as fast as they could. Your eyes scanned letter after letter, looking for something, anything that mentioned Sabini or - what was the other name Tommy mentioned? Charletta? Chiavetta? That didn’t sound right. You search your brain, struggling to remember the name while your hands continue to flick frantically through the pile of papers that to your dismay seemed never ending. Your heart races as fast as your frenzied fingers, knowing you had to get to the bottom of the pile before Charles returns. Your attention is drawn to an aperture in the volume of pages as if it’s been bookmarked. You divide the stack to find out what’s causing the gap. A thick, rectangular piece of paper is the culprit. Picking it up you realise it’s an envelope, it’s discolouration and worn edges suggested that it was old. Your fingers traced along the sealed flap, telling you that it had never been opened. Turning it over you notice the front is blank, void of any name or address. How strange - you think studying it again. After a moments hesitation you decide to open it, convincing yourself that as it wasn’t addressed to anybody, you were doing no wrong. Opening the desk draw you reach in for the letter knife. “Ouch.” A sharp pain causes you to recoil and retract your hand.
A rat, rears it’s ugly, slender head from the partially open draw. The soft light from the desk lamp bounces off its greasy fur. It regards you with black beady eyes. It’s ferocious yellow thangs protruding from its snarling lip - both stained crimson. You suppress a scream, jerking away from the rodent as it escapes the mahogany prison and scurries off to a dark corner. A claret stream gushes from the bite on your hand, covering yourself and Charles’s desk. You grip the wound tightly to stop the bleeding. How were you going to explain this mess? In a blind panic you try to find something to mop up the blood, resorting to using the sleeve of your blouse. Your breath catches as you stare aghast down at the gore which now decorated the envelope in front of you. Scrawled across the front, bold and messy, written in blood - your blood, was the name ‘CHANGRETTA.’
A deafening scream pierces your ears followed by 3 loud pops. Each one causing you to jump. A feeling of pure dread travels through you along with a fear so familiar it makes your blood curdle. Every fibre of your being tells you that you needed to get out of there, but you’re frozen stiff. Unable to move a muscle.
“Yahalom?” A short-lived relief washes over you, however the comfort and warmth that endearment usually brings is missing.
Your eyes dart to the doorway where the voice is coming from. A silhouette of a man fills the rectangle of light. Your eyes strain to recognise the features of the darkened figure. “Alfie?” You whisper uncertainly.
“Ya-ha-lom.” It says again, enunciating every syllable slowly and carefully, purposely emphasising a distinct American accent.
Your eyes widen in horror as it speaks the name it shouldn’t know. The name only he calls you. “Where’s Alfie?” Your voice trembles. The figure smirks.
“He’s been dealt with.”
With the weight of last nights dreadful dream baring heavily on your shoulders, you find yourself stood outside the Aerated baking company of Camden. Looking up at the towering ABC sign you couldn’t help but feel foolish. You knew the only person who would be able to dispel the horror from the nightmare that still clung to you like a cold wet rag was Alfie. The very Alfie you had requested stay away until the mess with Charles and the Italians was sorted. You thought it was for the best, considering Alfies jealous nature and the fact that when you were in each other’s company you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You saw it as unnecessary torment for the both of you. But it was also torture being apart.
You was sure that his absence was the reason for the bad dreams. Your subconscious telling you that you missed him. However there was something about last nights dream that had you rattled. You couldn’t quiet the anonymous American that still echoed tauntingly in you head. Hopefully Alfie will able to shut that Bastard up.
A couple of workers emerged from the bakery, rolling wooden casks along the dock to a waiting canal boat. One of them recognises you. “Come on through, Lass. He’s just got back.” He holds the door open and you slip through with a thanks. The stench of rum and damp is overpowering as you navigate your way down the barrel lined halls. You ignore a wolf-whistle from a worker who was obviously new and had no idea who you were. Luckily for him Alfie wasn’t around to hear it.
Up ahead you see Ollie, his head buried in a newspaper. Completely oblivious to your presence as you strut past him.
“Afternoon, Ollie.” You sing song.
“Afternoon Y/N.” He mumbles flippantly over the racing section of the paper.
“Y/N?” He repeats alarmed. You hear the rustle of his newspaper fall to the floor followed by his heavy footsteps rushing behind you.
“What are you doing ‘ere?” He asks.
“I’m here to buy a dozen bread rolls-“You roll your eyes sarcastically. “-I’m here to see Alfie, ain’t I! what else would I be doing here?”
“Well, Alfie’s not ‘ere...He had to make some collections.” Ollie lies, causing you to raise an eyebrow.
“Oh, that’s funny. One of the lads just told me he’s back.” You challenge him, now only a couple of feet away from Alfies office.
Ollie grabs your arm, swinging you around before you can get to the door. Stunned, you stumble to a stop before pinning him with an annoyed glare.
“What are you playing at, Ollie?” You bark, restoring order to your hair by flipping the waves from your face and back over your shoulder. You hear Alfie’s muffled voice and try to shoulder past Ollie, inching him closer to Alfie’s office door but he’s still in your way. “Must you do this to me every time?” You snap exasperated. “Don’t you remember what Alfie told you? I’m an exception. Now let me pass.”
“He’s praying.” He exclaims.
“Praying?” You repeat incredulously.
“Yeah...Minchah - Afternoon prayer.”
You eye him suspiciously. His lanky limbs sprawled out like a starfish in front of the door, blocking your way. It’s then that you notice the terrible job Ishmael has done at fixing Alfies office door. You could probably blow it open.
A giggle - too delicate to be Alfies, drifts through the walls of his office, stabbing your ears. The blood drains from your face.
Beads of sweat form on Ollies brow as he sees your expression change. “Minchah sounds fun...Would be a shame for us to miss it.” With the gentlest of pushes you send Ollie crashing through Ishmael’s shabby workmanship. Ollie on top of the distressed wood plummets to the floor. He lands on his back in the middle of Alfie’s office, his arms and legs still outstretched. As the dust begins to settle from Ollies collision, you see why he tried to stop you.
You catch Alfie’s eyes as they avert from a spread-eagled Ollie to you.
“Y/N?” He frowns. You observe the scene in front of you. He still has his coat on, his shirt was half untucked. The button and zip of his trousers was undone, causing them to hang low on his hips.
“Y/N?” This time your name comes from the shrill tone of the woman who’s on her knees in front of Him. Her face drops as she says your name. Alfie’s hand is wrapped around her wrist in a white knuckled grasp.
“This is Y/N?..But you said she was dead.” She raises her eyebrows. Her mascara smudged eyes gaze scornfully at you.
“Shut up.” Alfie shoves her backwards dismissively. Letting go of her wrist. She loses balance, landing on her arse with a thump.
You look away, fighting the nausea that rises in your throat. You had seen and heard enough. Turning on your heel you race to the exit as quickly as your feet could carry you.
“Hey, Where are you going pretty lady?” The worker that wolf-whistled at you a moment ago tries to stop you. You push past him, your eyes burning. You had to get out of there before the tears started to fall.
A loud crashing followed by a wailing protest from the brazen worker you just avoided told you that Alfie wasn’t far behind you. Selfishly you hoped that the confrontation with the worker had stalled Alfie long enough for you to escape before he could catch up to you. Making light work of the heavy bolt of the factory door you make it out on to Bonnie Street. Swiftly turning left, you disappear into Camden Market.
You thought you had made it when you feel someone catch you by the elbow; you don’t have to turn to know it’s Alfie.
“Y/N, Wait.”
“Let me go, Alfie.” You pivot to face him.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“I think it’s exactly what it looks like!” You try to shake your arm from his grip. “Let me go!” You shout again, gaining the attention of some of the market goers.
He grunts, his jaw tight as he forces you backwards and down a darkened alley that separates the bakery from the market.
“What are you doing? Get off of me.” You free one of your arms to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “You’re causing a fucking scene.” He says through gritted teeth. Still you continue to thrash in his arms.
“Stop.” He snaps, shaking you. You slap him hard. He growls pushing you up against the hard brick wall. Imprisoning you with his body. You tense rigidly against him.
“Calm down for Fuck sake, woman. I can explain.”
“That’s her isn’t it?..” A devastating realisation sets in. “The woman you jilted me for...How could I have been so stupid?! You’re just using me.” You shake your head, mentally cursing your niavity.
“What on Earth are you on about?”
“You and Tommy. You’re using me as part of your plan. You needed me to spy on Charles so you fed me a pack of lies about how there was no other woman, just so I would go along with it. How could I have been so gullible to actually believe you.” You try to keep it together, your world crashing down around you.
“Oh for crying out loud. You’re getting yourself in a two an’ eight over nothing.” His face creases in exasperation.
“Nothing?” You shriek. “It didn’t look like nothing to me.”
“What you saw was me trying to get rid of ‘er.”
“And I suppose the flies of your trousers just happened to undo in the struggle.”
“She tried it on, Yeah. And I politely declined. She’s a fucking whore, in’t she. Won’t take no for an answer. It was probably a stroke of Luck you showed up. I’m not into hittin’ women but she was beginning to test my patience.”
“What do you mean she’s a whore?” You ask in disbelief.
“She’s a working girl, a prostitute. She sells her body to earn a couple of Bob.”
“And what was a ‘working girl’ doing in your office?”
“I don’t know. She was there when I got back. I didn’t even have a chance to take my fucking coat off.”
You relax a little. It was feasible. The worker who let you in had told you that Alfie had just got back. And he did have his coat on... Something still didn’t add up though.
“How did she know my name? And why did you tell her I was dead?”
He goes quiet, Pressing his lips together in a thin line. His silence speaks volumes.
“Thought so.” You smirk, unsuccessfully trying to escape him once. “Damn you Alfie Solomons! Let me go!” You cry.
“Just wait a minute. Hear me out...After you were gone - I didn’t know what to do.” His voice was low and strained. You stop struggling. “It was so fucking... painful.” His fingers flex, pressing into your biceps. “Booze took the edge off, yeah. But I needed you. I thought” he takes a pause. “If I pretended she was you, it would ease the pain just long enough for me to get through another day...I used to call her Y/N...That’s how she knows your name. But I didn’t tell her you were dead. I told her you were gone. She must’ve assumed that’s what I meant.”
Your face crumples in disgust.
“It’s an ugly truth, Pet. I know. I ain’t fucking proud of it, but it’s the truth. So you can forget all that bollocks you’re thinking about how I’m using you.”
“It’s damn right disgusting is what it is.”
“Oi, now don’t be a hypocrite. You did the same with the yank.”
“That’s different.”
“How’s it any different? It’s the fucking same, innit!” He erupts. Pressing against you. Nose to nose. His eyes burn into yours. “You were trying to forget, Weren’t cha? Just like me!” He shouts. Anyone else and you would have felt intimidated; you were used to Alfie’s intensity. Aroused by it.
“I wish I could forget.” You mumble. Tears pooling in your eyes.
“You don’t mean that.” His voice turns from irate to one of soft concern.
You didn’t know what you meant. Feeling physically and emotionally exhausted, you go lax in his arms. The wall and Alfie was the only thing keeping you on your feet. He frowns at you and in an act of desperation lowers his lips to yours. You turn your head before he can reach your mouth. His lips landing on your cheek. He hums in annoyance and tries again. You turn once more. His lips grazing your other cheek. Pulling away, he looks at you, his face is a picture of disbelief and something else you’ve never seen before...fear maybe.
“Kiss me dammit.” He grunts. Holding you in place he pushes his lips to yours. You don’t move, not even to kiss back. Your lips stay fixed as he tries to kiss you.
“Don’t fight me, Yahalom. I can’t take it.” He pleads against your mouth. His voice on the edge of desperation. He attempts again, his lips coaxing yours. Something shifts inside you. You’re not sure if it’s because he has said the name you needed to hear or just the pure pleasure of his prefect lips and body against yours but your resistance begins to melt away.
Gradually you surrender. Your mouth clashing mercilessly with his in a hungry battle of desperation. A sickening thought of Alfie in a similar passionate tryst with the working girl settles in your brain, ruining the moment. Overcome with a sudden irrational jealousy you bite Alfie’s lower lip hard. It doesn’t stop him, instead he pushes you harder against the wall. His hands reach round to wrench your hips against his. You moan feeling the hardness of his arousal.
“Alfie.” His name comes from your mouth in a feeble protest. Weak even to your own ears.
“I need you, Yahalom. I need you now.” He grinds his body against yours suggestively.
“Not here.” You gasp a weak objection. Your resolve fragile from your own illogical need for him.
“It has to be here. It has to be now. There’s no way I can go another second without being inside you.”
His shameless need for you took your breath away. He was right, you could no longer deny yourself the pleasure you always so desperately craved. You let out an uncertain whimper, even though you had already made up your mind.
“Fuck me.” The crude command sounded foreign as it fell from your mouth but It’s what you wanted. It was the only words that matched the raw, carnal longing you felt for him. He groans, capturing your head in his hands, crushing your mouth to his, bruising your lips with an unapologetic ferocity.
You pull away breathless.
Alfie checks the privacy of the darkened alley. Pulling open the lapels of his big black coat he wraps them around you, cocooning both of you in the thick, heavy material. The heat radiating from his body causes your breasts to strain against the tight fabric of your dress. You press them into him to relieve the heavy aching. His hands travel down your body and then up your dress, skimming the sensitive skin of your thighs. Your head falls back with a moan when he reaches the burning dampness between your thighs. His fingers push your underwear to the side, exposing the slick, delicate flesh.
Your hands go to his trousers, ignoring the sharp pang of jealousy as you fumble with the button and zip. You reach inside tugging his hard cock free. “Easy, Yahalom.” He admonished softly. You smile wickedly against his lips and begin to stroke him in a slow twisting motion, increasing the speed and pressure as he expands in your palm. He kisses you, groaning and grunting into your mouth as you hand pumps his shaft. He pulls away from your aching wetness to grab your backside. “Wrap your legs around me.” He commands. You do as he says, linking your arms around his shoulders for support. He hitches your hips up and against him. His gaze finds yours and in one swift movement he’s inside you. You whimper at the fullness, your body struggling to accommodate his size as he thrusts into you. A movement catches the corner of your eye and you freeze momentarily when your gaze meets the wide, mascara smudged eyes of the whore from Alfie’s office. Your legs tighten around Alfie pulling him deeper. You smile smugly at her as an agonised sound of ecstasy leaves Alfies mouth. You watch in satisfaction as she storms off in a huff.
Alfies hand travels down to your lower back, protecting you from the impact of the rigid roughness of the wall as he pounds into you with an impatient rapidness.
The raucous racket from the market and the loud shouts from the stall owners trying to sell their goods drown out your collective moans. And with every thrust of Alfie’s hips, the nightmare from the night before slowly disappeared.
Mornings were something Darby Sabini enjoyed in the comfort of his own home. Sat in silence, checking out the bookies favourites in the daily newspaper and tucking into a traditional prima colazione.
However, a little business meeting had him stepping out of his comfort zone and swapping his usual morning ritual for a busy, smokey cafe just off the Farringdon Road. He sat alone, sneering down at his plate. An unappetising pile of sloppy scrambled egg wobbled next to a stack of cremated bacon. He sipped his coffee. His nose crinkling in disgust as the rancid, luke-warm liquid passed his lips. He slammed the cup down in a temper before rubbing his mouth and tongue with a napkin to try and get rid of the taste. Folding the napkin neatly and resting it on his lap, he picks up the newspaper and decides to focus on the horses.
“What’s wrong with ‘er anyway?”
“Oh, she’s been like it for a couple of days now.”
Sabini barely makes it through checking the Kempton runners when a Gossiping gaggle of women disrupt him - so loud that they may as well have been sat at his table.
“I heard she’s in love.” One of the women chirps causing the whole table to erupt in loud obnoxious laughter. Sabini’s back stiffens. The unrelenting tittle-tattle making it impossible for him to focus on the racing odds. His temper rises once again. His grip tightening on the paper. Screwing it up in his clenched fists to an unreadable mess.
“So, who’s the unlucky fella?” One snides bitterly. Sabini can feel his patience dwindling as the catty conversation continues.
“A little birdy told me-“ one pauses, bringing her voice down to a whisper as she says a name.
“Him? Oh, you’re ‘avin me on.” One scoffs in disbelief.
“Well that’s what I heard, anyway.”
“She should have known better than to get involved with a punter. Especially the likes Alfie Solomons. What was she thinking?”
Sabini’s ears prick up at the sound of his rivals name. His temper slowly dissipating as he listens more intently to the women yapping.
“So, what’s all the tears about, then?”
“Well, I also heard...” she reduces her tone to a whisper again. Now fully invested in their conversation, Sabini leans back in his chair, straining to hear what was being said. “That apparently the love of his life has returned... and now he don’t want anything to do with poor Dottie... She caught ‘em at it like rabbits in the middle of Camden Marke-“
“-Shh, Winnie. Here she comes.” The whispers come to an obvious halt.
“Don’t stop on my account, Ladies.” The approaching woman tells them. The table settles into an awkward silence. Buggar me, is that the time? Come on, Ladies. We’ve got work to do.” They empty out of the cafe in a bundle of whispers and smirks, leaving their topic of conversation at the table alone. Sabini turns to observe the woman. She was a pretty little thing... apart from her face which was set in a mask of misery. He pulls the napkin from his lap, dabbing the corners of his mouth arrogantly and rises from his table. He moves to stand behind an empty chair next to the girl. “Dottie is it?” The girl narrows her eyes at Sabini before nodding. “Mind if I join you?” He asks in his quiet raspy voice. The girls face swiftly changes from sad to flirty as she takes in his expensive-looking suit. “Please do.” She signals to the empty chair flashing him a provocative smile. He takes a seat and fishes out his wallet from his jacket pocket. “Now I’m not going to beat around the bush, my dear.” He lays a pile of money on the table. Her eyes light up. “Now, why don’t you tell me all about Alfie Solomons and this girl he’s so cruelly discarded you for.”
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