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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

Text

INDEBTED

Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.

Word Count: 4.8k words

Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Embezzlement.

What a weird word.

It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.

For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.

Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.

It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.

Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.

You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.

Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.

You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.

Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.

Rafe Cameron.

"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."

The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.

“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.

"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his cigarette before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."

A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"

He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”

“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.

“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”

“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.

"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”

Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.

“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.

Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”

“So do mine,” you shot back.

“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”

You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.

"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Rafe flicked his cigarette onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.

“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."

A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.

"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.

Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.

"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is far more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.

"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.

"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”

The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.

Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish," he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."

He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.

"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured. "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.

"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."

Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.

How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.

In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.

You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.

"We need to talk."

Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.

"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”

Was Rafe’s curt response.

You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.

The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.

And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.

Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.

"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.

"Movies. You know, I hadn't expected a text from you so soon." his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."

"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"

Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."

"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"

“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.

"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.

His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. You willing to fuck me at least twice a day? No? Then eleven."

You straightened your back, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."

His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our little arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two…” he shrugged nonchalantly “It might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"

You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.

Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"

"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”

“Not using them--”

“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”

“While I should be fucking insulted” he said dryly “I always glove up and get tested regularly too.”

“Okay, so why are you suddenly against using condoms with me, then?”

“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw.”

Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”

“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”

“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”

“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms while fucking, no condoms for blowjobs.”

"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.

Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.

"No. No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”

You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.

"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.

You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.

"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"

Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.

"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"

Another nod.

"Anything else?"

“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.

“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”

" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.

You extended your hand towards him.

"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.

"A handshake. To seal the deal."

Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. "How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured, "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than kissing very soon."

Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction.

“Ah ah” he chided. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.

"Play. Nice.” he whispered, his voice considerably smug. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.

A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.

His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.

Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.

Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.

"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."

"All clear."

That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.

As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.

You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.

But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.

This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.

When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.

It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-

"I'll be there."

It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.

At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.

As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.

The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.

Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.

His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.

A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

"One minute" he said, as he cracked his neck from side to side, his eyes boring into you. "You get a one-minute head start and after that, after that--" he sighed happily "I'm coming for you. Run."

Panic gripped you. "Run? What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.

But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."

A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.

You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.

At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of paint and cedar filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.

Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.

The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.

Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.

Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.

As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.

Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.

"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”

"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.

"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."

You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.

One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.

"There," he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.

That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to satiating his ever-growing hunger.

Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through the gag.

"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.

He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.

After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting intensity. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, a primal heat surging from deep within.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.

You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you could not bear.

"Oh, you'll cum-" he sneered.

In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.

"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, pounding you with relentless force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic punishing slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to your impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.

The room reverberated with your agonized screams as your orgasm overtook you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing around his cock as you climaxed.

Rafe fucked you with a feverish frenzy, burying his face in the back of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's orgasm struck, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin as he stuffed his cock deep.

Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.

The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.

Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his messy hair, highlighting his heightened state of manic exhilaration.

"Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his words, "Next time, we'll use rope."

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Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #dark!rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #obx #18+ read #dirtytomatoedwrites #dark rafe cameron #smut warning

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andvys · 2 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | Prologue

I knew there was no one in the world who could take it I had a bad feeling

Warnings: mentions of injuries, bruises and scars, mention of the upside down, this is post s4, enemies to lovers. mentions of death and the upside down. readers features are not mentioned, besides the accident with the hair dye in the past

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve have never seen eye to eye, and it never changed, not even when you were pulled into a world of monsters and risked your life to save him. But tension had always been between you both, something that neither of you ever wanted to admit -- but how much longer can you take it when the pull between you gets stronger and stronger each second you spend by each others side?

Word count: 3.6k+

Author's note: A new fic and another shoutout to my queen @hellfire--cult 🤍 thank you for working on the ideas for this story with me, I'm so excited for this one!

You’re running through the darkness, barefoot, the soil feels wet and slippery beneath your feet, twigs and branches scratch your skin open, the air feels icy cold, the wind blows through your hair and goosebumps arise on your skin, though not because of the cold but because of the growling behind you, the creatures that reach for you, that scream for you, that want your blood and your flesh.

Your lungs feel on fire and so do your legs, but you don’t stop running.

You run faster and faster, hoping to find shelter though this forest seems so big and never ending, there is no way out of this, no way out of here.

There is no shelter and there is nowhere to run – and yet, you don’t stop, you don’t let them get to you, you don’t let them touch you.

Rain starts falling, thunder rumbles through the woods and the ground beneath you suddenly starts shaking, making your knees buckle.

Desperation clings onto you, you can’t fall, if you do then you lose.

The sky becomes redder, shining angrily, the lightning now comes for you, crashing down on the ground right before you, causing you to yelp in surprise.

And that is all that it took, an obstacle thrown into the path that was destined for you to stay on. It caught you off guard, you no longer looked at the way before you, you slowed down and you slipped on the muddy ground.

You can feel yourself falling and it feels as though it takes forever for you to crash, you can feel the breath getting knocked out of you, you can feel the tear running down your cheek, you can feel the darkness taking ahold of you and despite knowing that you are going down, the fall still startles you, making you whimper in pain when you hit your head on something, your vision blurs and your skin aches and despite it, you push yourself up but it’s too late.

The vines are wrapping itself around your body, like snakes that are about to poison you. Panic rises in your chest and your eyes widen when you lift your head to see the creatures running towards you, getting closer and closer.

“No!” Your own voice sounds so unfamiliar to you, so filled with fear and desperation.

You struggle against the vines, though they hold you down so strongly. You try kicking against it, you try fighting against it but nothing helps, nothing will help you, nothing will save you.

Suddenly, you feel something sharp in your skin, in your legs, in your calves, in your arms, everywhere. You scream in pain – in pain and in anger. Tears stream down your face, blood seeps from the ripped open skin, the metallic taste now lingering on your tongue and that will be the last thing you will taste, the last thing you will see is the blood red sky, the last thing you will feel is how you’re being ripped apart.

But even now, as you’re slipping into a cruel death, all you think about is him.

You’re awaiting the darkness, the void – though it’s not what greets you when your eyes close. Light greets you. Bright, disgusting light that makes you want to close your eyes again. Fuck. You forgot to close the curtains last night.

A groan falls from your lips and you pull the blanket up higher, hiding your face from the sun that shines directly into your room. You pay no mind to your racing heart or the fear that still lingers from the dream you just woke from – you ignore it, as you always do.

This one was unlike all the others that have been haunting you for weeks now. Instead of hands around your neck, and the cruel blue eyes staring into your soul as he tried to kill you, it’s been the creatures that wanted you dead this time – and somehow they caused you less fear than he did.

You sink deeper into your mattress, enjoying the comfort and warmth of your bed.

Nothing awaits you today, absolutely nothing.

With a sigh, you lift your blanket and sit up, rubbing your eyes before you squint them open. You pull your legs up to your chest and prop your chin up on your knees, looking out your window as you get lost in your thoughts.

You are taken back to your dreams when the sun gets brighter, reminding you of the lights that surged through the red sky when the creatures – the monsters ripped you open. Not shying away from digging their teeth and claws into your delicate skin. – And to think that you once thought that Tommy and Carol were monsters.. Now you know what real monsters look like, feel like..

They never got under your skin like the monsters in your dreams did, not even when they thought they did. They threw cruel words at you, made up rumors about you that circled around school but as entertaining as it was to some of the students of Hawkins High, you just didn’t care what they thought of you, what they whispered about you whenever you passed by the gossiping girls or the boys who would smirk whenever you would walk through the hallways.

Just like all the other new freshman girls, you were fresh meat, a little lamb in the midst of a lion's den, ready to be ripped apart – or at least, that’s what you were meant to be. The first time Kelli Robertson approached you in order to intimidate you and to make it known who she was, she walked away with a split open lip after she tugged at your pigtails and made fun of the way you dressed. She never approached you again after this and neither did her friends.

You were no violent person but it had always been easy for you to lose your temper around girls and boys who loved to think that they were better than anyone else, that their status in school was something deemed special and meaningful outside of it, that they could push around the ones weaker than them.

Maybe you weren’t better than them, you gave them back what they gave to others, but at least they deserved it. And with them, you had the power to fight back whenever they came at you.

But when it came to him, you didn’t have much power to fight back – only luck was on your side, that night. A battered house you were supposed to die in, saved you. It’s ironic, really.

It’s been a few weeks since the evil had been defeated and you had won – since your friends had won, but not without scars and bruises.

Eddie almost died.

Max almost died.

And you, you almost died too.

Maybe you should have.

You drag yourself out of bed, like every morning, ignoring the sharp pain in your side, the ache that still lingers in your neck – you wonder if it will stay there forever now.

You hate to look at yourself in the mirror, but you still do.

You wash your face and brush your teeth and you stare at your reflection, hating what you see. The bruises that have not healed yet, the ones on your face and on your neck, the scar that he left for you to always look at.

With a sigh, you turn away and leave the bathroom. You make yourself a cup of coffee and sit on your windowsill. You pull your knees up to your chest, closing your eyes for a moment, you enjoy the way the sun feels on your skin. You missed it, the warmth, the smell of spring in the air and giving yourself this moment of peace every morning.

You feel the beating of your heart, the kind that fills your body with fear – the fear that will always linger now.

You can’t stand it.

And you can’t stand that the only way to get rid of it is to be around the person who hates you the most.

The one that ripped your heart out more than once, with nothing but cruel words.

You should stay away, but you can’t.

And besides, your words are just as cruel.

Walking into Family Video, a small smile tugs at your lips when Steve’s frown greets you. He is leaning against the counter, a pencil in his hand as he works on the crossword in the newspaper. He instantly straightens up when he locks eyes with you, a sigh already falling from his lips.

He has been seeing you more often than usual in the past few weeks – every time you walk in here, he ignores the relief in his chest and the pain when he sees those fading bruises on your skin.

By the look on your face, he can tell that you are up to no good.

You’re wearing a sweet smile on your face – one that could never be directed at him. An iced coffee in your hand that you got from the shop across the street, he sees you walk in there, every afternoon.

“Hey Steve,” you smile as you walk up to the counter, placing the cup in front of him. “I got you a coffee.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, glancing down at the coffee, not quite believing you or the sickly sweet tone in your voice, you even called him by his name, something that never happens.

“What’d you put in there?”

You chuckle, shrugging at him. “Nothing, I figured you could use some coffee and some company, you look bored.”

The store is empty and he already stacked up all the new tapes. Yes, he is bored but he doesn’t believe you for a second. You’re here because you are bored.

You tap your manicured nails against the counter, tilting your head and looking at him oh so sweetly – your lashes flutter, your lips are curled into a soft smile, you’re wearing a pretty blouse underneath your denim jacket and heart shaped glasses on your head, you smell like cherries. If you weren’t you, he would be flirting away already but unfortunately you are you.

The girl he cannot stand, even now, after you risked your life for a person that means so much to him, after you almost bled out and died fighting someone who was ready to kill you.

He ignores the pang in his chest when he looks at the faint bruises around your neck, you almost got matching wounds now – only his were caused by bats, yours were caused by someone else’s hands. He redirects his eyes to your face instead, not bearing to look at the marks any longer.

He looks into your eyes for a moment, trying to figure you out the way he always does – though you will always remain a mystery to him.

Tempting, he thinks – the coffee, not you, definitely not you.

With a sigh, he reaches for the cup and just as he goes to wrap his hand around it, you beat him to it, snatching it back.

“Oops, I changed my mind.”

You wrap your lips around the straw, keeping your eyes on him as you drink the coffee that you definitely did not order for Steve.

He clenches his jaw, eyes flashing with annoyance as they lock with yours again.

Satisfaction fills your chest, you love teasing him.

“Robin isn’t here, so what the hell do you want, Blondie?”

At that, you clench your jaw.

You can’t stand the stupid nickname that he hasn’t stopped using since Sophomore year.

You wanted that blonde you saw on Dolly Parton in the magazines, only for a bright yellow to end up on your head. You begged your sister to let you stay at home, but she pointed to the door for you to face the consequences of getting hair dye without her permission.

And since then, you went back to your natural hair color, not touching a dye in your life again.

Steve won’t let you live it down, always bringing up the nickname he knows you hate so much.

Though you don’t know whether he gave you the name because of the yellow hair you once sported or because you love the band so much.

“Well, I wanna rent a movie,” you shrug as you play with the straw. “I figured you could recommend one to me. You know, since you work here and everything.”

He rolls his eyes, “just get The Breakfast Club and leave.”

You put your hand over your heart, feigning pain. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Lego head?”

He clenches his jaw harder than before, you can tell that he is trying his hardest not to roll his eyes.

“I watched that movie last week. I wanna watch something else now. Give me a few recommendations or I’ll speak to your manager,” you tease him.

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks around the counter, nodding his head at you to follow him.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You follow him, sipping on your coffee as you look down at the way his jeans are hugging his ass.

“How about Teen Wolf?” He asks as he walks into the horror movie section, he reaches for the movie and turns back to you, gripping the shelf as he gives you a fake smile.

“Hmm,” you scrunch your nose up as you pretend to think. “No thanks, I got enough Teen Wolf in front of me.” You gesture to his hair and the chest hair that peeks from his unbuttoned shirt.

You try to not look at the scar around his neck, the vision of him being held down against the ground while the bats tried to bite chunks of flesh out of him still pains you and makes shivers run down your spine.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes and puts the tape back on the shelf.

“What do you want, horror, action, rom-com–”

“Do I look like I’d enjoy a shitty rom-com?”

“Right,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he looks you up and down. You actually do look like you’d enjoy a shitty rom-com. Besides the constant glare or the frown on your face, you actually look like a sweet and approachable girl – that’s where he was wrong. You are unapproachable, you always have been. You’re rough and you’re mean, you never bite your tongue and you don’t shy away from fights or arguments, that is something that caught him off guard the first time he talked to you. The pink skirt, the bow in your hair and the innocent look on your face was a disguise for the little devil that was hiding behind those pretty eyes.

Your looks still don’t match your personality. – Even now, after the horrifying things that you have been through only weeks back, you are still you. Still the same mean girl he always knew you to be.

There was a shift in your behavior after last summer, something had changed in your eyes, a sadness lingered in them, one that hasn’t been there before, he doesn’t know what happened, if you had gotten hurt or if you had lost something or someone, but even if, that clearly wasn’t enough for you to change either.

Nothing seems to change you.

You are just cold and unreachable in your emotions – for the most part.

“Alright then no rom-com,” he sighs.

He continues to offer you movies, ones that you keep saying no to. He can feel himself growing frustrated the longer you do this, knowing damn well that you aren’t here for a movie, especially not for tonight, you’re hanging out with Robin tonight.

Once you make it to the last aisle, Steve is officially fed up with you. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest while you innocently look at the movies in the thriller section. You are sipping on your drink, eyeing some tape that you just reached for. You put it back and sigh, pretending to be bored.

While Steve had been trying to be less harsh with you than he was weeks before, he can’t help but roll his eyes at you.

“Why are you here?” He grumbles. “We both know you don’t want to rent a movie.”

You turn your head, eying him up and down before you start making your way over to him.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you,” he mumbles as he takes a step closer to you. “I know you’re here because you’re fucking bored.”

You smirk, tilting your head up as you look into his hazel eyes.

“Get a job and let me do mine,” he rolls his eyes and finally brushes past you, making his way back to the counter.

“I don’t need a job, I have enough money to do… uh.. well nothing for the rest of my life. Just like you, Harrington. Why don’t you take that hush money we were gifted with and get the hell out of here?” You ask, curiously as you follow him. “You could be relaxing, traveling through the country, staying in fancy hotels, taking out hot chicks.”

“How fun,” he snorts as he stops by the register. “You go do that, if that’s what a dream life looks to you. Or get a freaking boyfriend or something and stop getting on my goddamn nerves, Blondie.”

“Who would keep your life so entertaining if I got too busy with a boyfriend?” You ask. “You’d die of boredom.”

Steve picks up the pencil he dropped earlier, trying to ignore you as he continues working on his crossword but you don’t let him obviously. You place the drink you teased him with, in front of him and lift yourself up on the counter, making yourself comfortable next to him.

He rolls his eyes, looking up at you through his bangs to find you looking at him already, a smirk lingering on your lips. You’re close enough for him to smell the perfume on your skin, sweet and flowery, another misleading thing, you’re not sweet, not in any way.

“You really think you have that much of an impact in my life?” He asks. Like the bruises on your body don’t anger him, because he couldn’t help you when you were fighting for your own and someone else’s life. Like he didn’t hold your hand when your cold body was laying in the hospital bed. Like he didn’t pray for you to make it out alive.

You bite the insides of your cheeks, blinking as you continue to look into his eyes.

You nod. “I think you would miss me so much if I was gone.”

He glares into your eyes, taking deep breaths as he moves his tongue along his bottom lip.

How can you speak of such things when you almost lost your life? He wonders.

“Yeah, you would definitely miss me,” you smirk and reach for your drink, only to be stopped by him when he reaches for it first, smirking back at you as he brings it up to his lips, wrapping his lips around the straw – not caring that your lips have touched it first.

Your jaw drops a little, only a little, though enough for him to be amused by the shocked look on your face – that is rare.

He takes a sip of your coffee, humming. “Mhmm, Vanilla? How’d you know it was my favorite?”

You purse your lips, squinting your eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something.”

What an idiot.

“You wish, Lego head.” You snort and jump off the counter, letting your face drop into your regular expression.

He chuckles, tilting his head at you. “Right, I forgot, you don’t have such a thing as feelings.”

You blink, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes again.

Yeah, you heard that before and it stung, really badly.

“Not when it comes to you.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking at you with a bored expression.

“I’m so wounded.”

Nothing you would say or do could ever hurt Steve Harrington.

Not even the cruelest words from you would hurt him.

Because you don’t have the power to hurt him.

You don’t have an impact in his life.

You wouldn’t leave a void in his life if you just disappeared – not like he would in yours if he were to disappear.. But he doesn’t need to know that.

He couldn’t care less about you, he surely wouldn’t care if you left this town like you should have a long time ago, he surely wouldn’t care if you had died that night. You would have been long forgotten by now, a faceless someone in his memories.

“Heidi or Summer or Kayla will surely patch those wounds,” you smirk as you walk towards the door. “Or are you still getting over Nancy… you know after she rejected you… again?”

He nods at you with a glare, clenching his jaw at the reminder.

You chuckle and turn around, you open the door and step out.

“Look both ways when you cross the street, Blondie!” He calls out to you. “You don’t wanna end up in the hospital again!”

You flip him off, rolling your eyes at his chuckle that you hear before the door closes behind you.

The afternoon sun is shining down on you, leaving a warm feeling on your skin, a smile pulls at your lips as you glance at the growing flowers next to trees.

The sky is blue, no cloud in sight to hide the sun, it’s quiet, peaceful – almost too peaceful.

This is how it should be, right?

The war that was fought in secret is over.

But, there is still one upon you.

You and the man you just walked away from.

Will you make it out alive this time?

Or will you be left more broken than before?

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #steve harrington enemies to lovers #stranger things angst

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miniwheat77 · 9 months

Text

Give into me. (König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough p in v sex, unprotected sex, König manhandling reader a bit, lot of blood and violence, sex pollen, poorly translated german, (sorry if I missed any.)

This is NOT proofread because I am lazyyyyy. Hope you enjoy :)))))

Your boots make the faintest of sounds as you trek through the forest, it’s dense, the air is cool and it’s humid. It’s something you’ve never experienced before.

You weren’t exactly new to being in the military but you’d had little experience outside of the base considering there wasn’t much war going on as of late, which was a good thing. Until of course another country stuck their nose in business that wasn’t there’s and started one.

You’re in alliance with them, and have to come when they call for you. That’s what friends do.

So here you are, fighting in a war that isn’t yours. In unfamiliar territory. Terrified.

You’re standing close to your Colonel, the massive man is like a shield in front of you. He may be quiet, but he doesn’t hide very easily. He’s a stern man who doesn’t say much. But he offers comfort to you somehow. Being close to him makes you feel better. A whistle leaving his lips has you stopping right in your tracks. Almost running into him. He holds his hand up, motioning for everyone to stop. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, or where you’re even going. You’re frozen, and when the first shot rings out, you freeze.

König crouches down from the shots, retreating into the tree line and yelling orders, watching as his soldiers are taken off guard and ambushed. You’re closest to him, finally snapping out of it and jumping out of the line of fire. König grasps hold of your backpack, tugging you into him. “Stay still.” He breathes.

It’s silent.

Your entire group aside from you and König are dead.

You’re staring in shock.

“Konzentriere dich, sieh mich an” he reaches out, holding onto you. “Focus.” He says it again so you understand. “The only way we’re getting out of this alive is to be completely aware of our surroundings.” He breathes. You nod your head. His accent is strong and it makes your head fuzzy. You can hardly focus, ears still buzzing from the gunshots.

Your eyes trail to your mates, who are all dead now. It makes you sick, but this is the harsh truth about the military. You and König manage to slip away unharmed, creeping your way into their base where they are taking refuge. The only way to infiltrate and win is to be quiet and tactical. König’s stealth and ability to stay hidden surprises you. He’s clearly had years of experience. His heart rate stays the same, never elevates. He doesn’t even seem nervous.

Maybe this was the wrong mission for you to come along on. You follow behind him into the building, he’s equipped with a silencer and a knife, which is how he’s killing each of them.

You can’t deny it, and even in the worst time in the world to find someone attractive, he still is. He’s strong and smart. He’s good at what he does.

“Clear.” He mumbles.

You’ve got a knife in your hand. Covered in blood that may or may not be yours anymore. You don’t know. “They’re hiding something here. Time to find out what it is.” He mumbles. You nod your head, following behind him like a lost puppy. You decide you need to stop, show him that you can handle yourself so you branch off. Viewing a couple of the rooms. You don’t see anything, they look just like normal offices to you. Until you step foot into the last one. Your gun is raised, just in case. Pushing the door open. Your eyes widen. “Uh.. Colonel? I think I found what we’re looking for.” You say. He walks in, eyes going wide when he see it.

There are some rats and rabbits in cages, they’re still in tact but there’s something going on. You take a step closer, looking around. Noticing most of the rats have babies in their cages. You look across paperwork, trying to figure out what it is.

König opens up a filing cabinet, it’s full of small silver briefcases. He takes one of them out, opening it up.

There’s 5 small syringes in the briefcases. Bright blue liquid. “Looks like window cleaner.” You smile. Earning an eye roll from him. “You read anything?” He asks. “Reproductive drug.” You nod. He looks confused. “It’s meant to kick your reproductive system into overdrive, meant for people who struggle to conceive. There’s a lot of money in this.” You look at him. He nods. “verrückte Leute” he mumbles under his breath. “What happened to these ones?” He asks. There’s a few rats dead inside of a cage.

“If you don’t.. conceive. You die.” His eyebrows raise, but you can’t see it because of his mask. “Christ..” he mumbles. It’s silent.

Too silent.

A vent being kicked open from above has you both flinching away, hiding behind furniture in the room. You watch above, worried.

You hear the clinking sounds of something falling into the room, landing right in the center. It explodes and blue smoke fills the room. It sends you and König into a coughing fit, exposing you to the drug you’ve just looked at. “Fuck!” He yells. Drawing his gun and firing up into the ceiling. He hears something collapse up above.

“Bleiben Sie sitzen, Sergeant!” He yells. You know what this means, not moving a muscle. You don’t want to die today. Not like the others. Blood begins to drip from the bullet holes in the ceiling, becoming easier to see as the smoke dissipates. König had eliminated your assailant. You stay still, your body starting to feel warm. “Clear.” König says. “For now.” He breathes. He lowers his gun, fastening it back into its holster on his hip. His hands are getting more and more appealing as time passes. Your blood is pumping through you quickly, the only thing on your mind is what he must taste like. What his skin must feel like.

He snaps in front of your face. “Passt auf” his stern voice is enough to make your knees weak. “Sorry Colonel.” You blush, looking down. “We need to find an antidote. Look around.” He says. He’s starting to feel it too, but it’s moving slower through him because of his massive size.

While sifting through papers, your hands are shaky.

The throbbing between your legs is getting harder and harder to ignore and you’re getting distracted. Eyes following König as he sifts through paperwork.

You’re rocking your hips into the chair beneath you, the warmth becoming harder and harder to ignore. “F-fuck-“ you whimper, which draws his eyes to you.

They widen slightly at your appearance. You’ve shed a layer of clothing, all that was left was your shirt and cargo pants. The rest is discarded somewhere in the room. “Are you okay?” He asks. “No- need to find s-something.” A moan leaves your lips. “Anything.” You whimper. Sliding your hips forward again, body begging for some kind of friction. His pupils darken, feeling himself harden in his pants. He needed to find that fucking antidote. Now.

He’s sorting through paperwork, but not finding anything. As he reads across the papers, the only thing going through his mind is the both of you dying at the tail end of a success, he doesn’t want those soldiers dying in vain, for nothing. He stands up, maybe they needed to look in another room. “Come on, wir schauen uns woanders um” he mumbles, pulling you along. The warmth from his hand has your knees buckling again but you catch yourself as he pulls you along. You’ve lost every bit of control you have. You’re seconds away from shedding your pants and relieving the ache between your legs.

He pushes you back into a chair and you tilt your head back, groaning out. König is sweating under his hood, he’s rock hard. He’s desperately searching through paperwork, looking for anything.

Finally, he gets his hands on a paper.

He reads across the paper, but it’s too late.

There are stages to the drug, and you’re both already passed stage 2, which is when the antidote needs to be administered.

It’s fuck or die now.

König sighs. It’s the only choice the both of you have now. “It’s too late.” He breathes. “What?”

“I found the cure but it has to be given sooner. Too late.” He breathes. “So.. what does that mean?” You breathe. “It means.. we give in. oder wir sterben” he breathes. “Fuck..” you whine. You grasp the hem of your shirt, you can’t take it anymore. You need his hands on you. “König, please.” You breathe. “I know you feel it too.” You pant. He moves closer, kneeling down in front of you. “What do you want me to do?” He breathes. “Just..” you reach for his hand, placing it on your own thigh. “Please- fuck me Colonel.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He breathes. He chews on his lips nervously. If he does this, there’s no going back.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, higher. Feeling you tense up, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Scheiß drauf” they’re the only words out of his mouth before he closes the distance between the both of you, pulling you down onto the ground and pushing the chair back away from you. He hovers himself over you, tugging his hood off. Right now, he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was feeling how tight you’d be around him. He tugs his gear off, you start pulling the remainder of your clothes off beneath him as well. Once he’s got himself exposed enough, he’s burying himself into you.

The relief you feel seems impossible, it feels like fireworks are going off in your stomach.

You can’t stay still beneath him, squirming. You can hardly stay quiet.

Despite how desperate he was, König was still on high alert, which is how he managed to hear footsteps. He clamps a hand over your mouth, reaching for his gun. He halts his thrusts for just a second. You rock your hips up into him, he flinches at the pleasure. “Ah- Y/N. Stop it for a second.” When you don’t stop, raising your hips into him over and over for any friction, he groans out. “Verdammt, Liebling” he breathes, just then, a man steps into the doorway. His eyes going wide. “What the fu-“ König pulls the trigger before he can even finish his sentence, throwing his gun down and rocking his hips into yours. He grasps hold of you, lifting you up with him. He stands up straight with you. He backs you up into a wall, holding you steady as he he fucks into you harder. He can’t seem to focus on anything but you. Doesn’t care that he’s just killed a man while he’s buried deep inside of you, and it doesn’t seem like you care much either.

“So desperate.. didn’t even flinch.” He breathes. “dreckiges Mädchen”

He wraps his hands around you, squeezing you tight and holding you still as he rocks his big cock up into your weeping hole. You can’t stay quiet, whining out as he fucks into you. “Colonel, please-“ you whimper. “So so good.”

He bites down onto your shoulder, feeling you tense up in his grasp. Another string of moans leaving your lips. You can’t get enough of him, no matter what.

König feels like he could spend hours inside of you. Rocking his sensitive cock into your hole until neither of you can take anymore. Rubbed raw and sore from the friction. He’s getting close, he can barely handle it. He’s got to make you his. Fill you full of him. He grits his teeth. “Ah! Going to cum-“ he gasps. He sits back into a chair, and you lift yourself up onto him, riding his cock through his high. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you move against him. He cries out, cock twitching hard as he fills you up with his cum. Gasping out at you overstimulating him. You keep riding him, desperate for your own release. He’s sensitive but he’s not the kind of man willing to deny you of an orgasm. Not like this. “Fuck- riding my cock like this.. like a fucking bitch in heat.” He growls. Rocking his hips up into you. Thrusting up as you ride him like your life depends on it.

“Nimm was du willst, I’ll give it to you.” He breathes. A cry leaves your mouth from deep in your throat. One last thrust up from him has you crumbling, sending you spiraling. It’s by far the hardest you’ll ever cum. You raise your hips up once more, sliding back down onto him and halting. Cockwarming him as you sit there, coming down from your high. His hands are still at your hips, gripping you. You’ve still got your head buried into the crook of his neck, panting into him.

When you finally pull away, getting a good look at him, you breathe out. “I’m sorry.” You blush. He smiles. “Nothing to be sorry for. Let’s get the hell out of here, talk later.” He breathes. His English is very blunt, but he’s trying.

You gather up all of your clothing and everything else you’d need, preparing yourselves for exfil. You didn’t know how this was going to work.

As you wait for the exfil chopper, he finally looks at you through his hood. Loving eyes glaring down at you. This mission should’ve never happened. But despite the death toll, despite everything that went wrong. The newfound feelings for your colonel. The baby that was most likely to come from this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig x reader #könig #könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig mw2

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mendingbone · 9 months

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i keep seeing people in their late teens/early twenties having a "[X] content intended for younger audiences does not feel satisfying to me anymore but i don't know where to start to branch out into adult fiction" moment and i thought i would give some recommendations for adult fiction for my fellow creepy crawly queer people. all or at least a LOT of it will be on the darker and more fucked up side bc i primarily engage with horror and thriller media personally but feel free to add on with more or recommendations from other genres :)

edit: i am continuing to add to this list so there might be new recs (highlighted in pink) in here every once in a while! also want to add that there's a variety of POC, queer, and disabled authors in here as well, i am also all of the above (asian, bi/aro, poly, disabled) and tried to incorporate as many of their wickedly talented, compelling narratives as possible. that's all, happy reading!

A Certain Hunger, Chelsea G. Summers

A Darker Shade of Magic, V. E Schwab*

A Dowry of Blood, S.G Gibson

Animal, Lisa Taddeo*

A Ripple of Power and Promise, Jordan A. Day*

Bunny, Mona Awad*

Children of Blood and Bone, Tomi Adeyemi*

Cursed Bread, Sophie Mackintosh*

Dark Places, Gillian Flynn

Dead Girls Don't Say Sorry, Alex Ritany*

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead, Olga Tokarczuk*

Eileen, Ottessa Moshfegh*

Fruiting Bodies, Kathryn Harlan*

Goddess of Filth, V. Castro*

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

House of Leaves, Mark Danielewski

If I Had Your Face, Frances Cha*

Iron Widow, Xiran Jay Zhao

Jackal, Erin E. Adams*

Juniper and Thorn, Ava Reid*

Kindred, Octavia Butler*

Manhunt, Gretchen Felker-Martin*

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Ninefox Gambit, Yoon Ha Lee*

Rabbits, Terry Miles*

Scorched Grace, Margot Douaihy*

Sharp Objects, Gillian Flynn

She is a Haunting, Trang Thahn Tran

Slewfoot, Brom*

Sorrowland, Rivers Soloman

Summer Sons, Lee Mandelo

Supper Club, Lara Williams*

The Centre, Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi*

The Change, Kirsten Miller

The Death of Jane Lawrence, Caitlin Starling*

The Dreamer Trilogy, Maggie Stiefvater

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

The Hollow Places, T. Kingfisher*

The Human Origins of Beatrice Porter, Soraya Palmer*

The Jasmine Throne, Tasha Suri

The Locked Tomb, Tamsyn Muir

The Luminous Dead, Caitlin Starling*

The Red Tree, Caitlin Kiernan*

The Unfamiliar Garden, Benjamin Percy*

Vicious, V. E Shwab

Wake, Siren, Nina MacLaughlin*

We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson

What Moves the Dead, T. Kingfisher*

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bimobuddy · 2 months

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Just Like (Really) Old Times

SFW Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Adam, Ler!Lucifer

Sinner!Adam

Spoilers and Swearing

AdamsApple if you squint just a little

Summary: Adam moved into the Hotel and that means living with the very people he tried to Exterminate, and with the very man he's hated for so long. However when Lucifer brings back some 'old memories,' he starts to warm up to the idea of living there.

It had definitely been a shock for... everyone.

The day someone knocked at the Hotel doors, and when Charlie opened them, she was met with someone.. familiar.

There stood Adam, now with grayer skin, red eyes, leathery wings, and horns. As he opened his mouth to speak, it was revealed that he even had fangs now.

"Uh... hi..."

He had expected for the doors to be slammed in his face, for Charlie to tell him to get lost, hell, he even expected to be killed again.

But as Charlie looked up at him for a moment, she stepped aside, and opened the door wider.

"Checking in? We have room."

♡♡♡

Weeks had gone by, and everyone was tense. How couldn't they be? The crew had to live within close proximity of the man who's been leading exterminations for years to kill them. And Adam was living within close proximity of the people he's been exterminating for years.. it was awkward as shit.

And for the first time, he felt like he didn't belong somewhere. He felt as though he had invited himself into someone else's house and was overstaying his welcome- But he had nowhere else to go.

He didn't even know what to do with himself. He had become the very creature he had sworn to destroy. The very pest he had been exterminating. His beautiful golden feathers were gone, his halo was gone.. Everything about himself, to him at least, was gone.

Lucifer leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched Adam from across the room. The First Man was on the couch, looking down his his clawed hands that looked so unfamiliar to him. It reminded the king of when he had first met Adam, back when the man had been created. And back before he had fallen.

Adam looked down at his hands in awe. He turned them over, amazed before looking down at the rest of himself. He had been alive for about a month at this point, but he couldn't get over the fact that he was alive and existing. He loved it. He loved being able to see the world around him, being able to hear birds, the wind in the leaves, even his own voice. Especially his own voice. He had spent quite a while just sitting and speaking to himself, even just making random noises, stretching his words out, making the tone go up and down. One of the angels sent to check on him told him it was called 'singing.' He liked singing.

As Adam sat there, just making random noises to himself, he hadn't noticed a familiar white serpent approach him. Not until it chuckled at the noises he was making, startling him. Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?"

Adam looked up at Lucifer. "The fuck are you staring at, loser?" Lucifer raised a brow. "I'm sorry, who lost?" He asked, leaning on his cane. Adam flinched a little and looked away, back down at his hands. They were clawed, darker at the hands than the rest of his arm.

The couch dipped down, causing Adam to look back up at the angel next to him. The angel he was so familiar with. The angel he had once been friends with. Lucifer smiled. "Actually I was just remembering some things.. Back when you were still alive. Like how you told me you liked sweet things. Do you still? It's been a couple years since then."

Adam snorted. "Yeah, just a couple thousand.. Yes, I do still like sweet foods." The king chuckled. "And I remembered you telling me about the 'horse things with branches on their heads.-'" "Oh fuhuck off, I didn't know what deer were."

"But one more thing I remembered," Lucifer skittered up his side, "Was when we discovered you were ticklish." Adam jolted upright, batting his hand away. "Fuhuck off- Don't-" "I specifically remembered you asking me to do it again. Do you remember that?" He asked, abandoning his cane to gently scribble up both of his sides.

Adam immediately burst into giggles, slamming his arms down. "Fuck! fuhuhuhuck you fuhuck off noho I dihidn't!" Lucifer chuckled and tweaked his sides, gently squishing the pudge between his claws, causing Adam to shriek and curl up. "Yes the fuck you did, you liar," he laughed along with him, "That wasn't the only time either, buddy. It seemed any chance you got, you were asking me to tickle you."

Adam was blushing, and blushing hard. He grabbed ahold of Lucifer's wrists, but couldn't really push him away as he was giggling so hard. The king continued, "You loved it so much you introduced Eve to it, I remember that," He gently kneaded into Adam's ribs, earning some squeals, "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Buddy."

Lucifer raked his fingers down Adam's ribs, and gently skittered across his belly. The sinner tried to curl up and bat his hands away, letting out a snort. "Dohohont- Shuhuhut the fuHUCK uhuhup!" "Oh, don't shut the fuck up? Alrighty~!" The teasing got to Adam. He gave up fighting back and just covered his face.

"I know during our fight I said you 'let yourself go,' but you know what, I think this is better," he started to scritch at his tummy, "Now I have more tickle room." Adam's face turned an even darker shade of red at this, growing more and more flustered.

"Fuck- st- nohohoho!" "See? Even now you're still stopping yourself from saying 'stop.'" Adam started to bat at him again, grabbing for his wrists, "SHUHUT THE FUHUCK UHUHUP!"

Lucifer pulled his hands back, grinning as he watched Adam just go completely limp, his giggles mixing with his panting. "Question for you Addy," "Don't you ever fucking call me that again." "When you were an angel, were your wings ticklish?"

Adam's black and red eyes snapped open. Instinctively, his wings folded over his body, as if he were cocooning himself. "Don't you fucking dare, Lucy."

Lucifer stopped.

"You called me Lucy." Adam paused a little, too. "Yeah.." Lucifer smiled a little. "You haven't called me that since Eden." The sinner looked away momentarily. "I guess.. All this sort of just.. reminded me of the Garden," He looked back down at his claws, "Things were.. so much simpler back then."

Sensing his discomfort with his new body, Lucifer took one of Adam's hands in his own. "You don't look bad, y'know. I know it's different, scary even, but it's not bad." He turned Adam's hand over so it was resting palm-up. He softly traced it, watching as the other's claws twitched from the soft ticklish feeling. "It'll take some time, Adam, but you'll get used to it. Comfortable, even-" "That's what I'm worried about.." Adam looked down at him, being a full two feet taller. He sighed and pulled his hand back.

They sat in silence for a bit before Lucifer broke it. "You know, Charlie is thrilled that you're here." Adam scoffed, "After I destroyed the place and nearly killed you guys?"

"She's happy that you chose to be here. You made the decision to check into a Hotel meant for redemption. That means somewhere deep down, you at the very least have hope. And that's a good start."

Adam huffed. "What if it's not possible..?" The king looked up at him. "Then I guess you're stuck here with us." He offered a smile.

The sinner couldn't help but smile back. As much as he would have loathed the though even just a week ago, it didn't seem so bad now. Lucifer seemed to want to be his friend again, and Charlie was a sweet kid who truly seemed to believe in him.

Back in Heaven, he had a lot of power, sure. He was The Man. He always got what he wanted, whether it was power, bent rules, or sex. But here? He was seen as an equal, as someone who was flawed, someone who had been human. And he was surprisingly okay with that.

His soft smile, turned to a smirk. "I remember something, too." Lucifer tilted his head, curiously. Adam continued, "I remember the first time I retaliated, and found out your wings were ticklish as fuck." "Shit- you back the fuck off-" Lucifer hopped up and took off running.

Adam unfolded his wings, which seemed to be stronger than they once were, and with a powerful flap, immediately caught up to him.

Who knew the King of Hell hiccuped when he laughed?

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!adam #ler!lucifer

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nolovelingers · 9 months

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NOT TOO CLOSE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ethan landry !!

⋆ ★ you remember the first night you met. the shared lingered feeling of a message you couldn’t quite decipher, something telling you all signs were red and pointing in the opposite direction; away from him. it’s too bad, you always had a thing for pretty boys. — short blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, ghostface!ethan ,, mentions of alcohol ,, first meeting ,, fem!reader ,, swearing

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone , sorry if the formats funky !

——————————————————————————

maybe it was the way the lights were strobing, the haze of the chattering college students lost in their own conversations; the smell of cheep booze and the familiar tinge of marijuana finding its way to your nose and leaving you with a twisted knot in your stomach, the effects of the own alcohol you previously consumed somehow contrasting itself by both numbing half your senses and heightening your other ones.

in the eyes of blackmore university, there was never a holiday too small nor an event too hyped to not celebrate in everyone’s own little way; a halloween party suited for what felt like a small village as you navigated the house packed of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, students laughing and socializing their way through their own buzzes.

not ethan.

clinging onto his roommates side, chad almost wanted to be annoyed by the way ethan couldn’t bare to branch himself off and meet new people but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so as a feeling often described as pity clouded his intoxicated senses.

“dude, we gotta get you a girlfriend.” chad joked (but not really), feet firmly planting on the ground next to the curly haired boy who leaned himself on the doorframe in front of the stairs; the two observing the party in their own little world.

chad wanted to meet new faces. ethan did not.

ethan rolled his eyes, clutching his red solo cup closer to him as a look contorted on his face that of annoyance and disgust before quickly letting his features fall flat and conjure a forced one, embarrassment.

“if it’s that much of a bother to you, you can go talk to some girls. ill just stay here.” he mumbled, looking like a child who just got rejected from buying a toy from their parent. deep down in the pits of his twisted heart he hoped chad would opt out of leaving, not wanting to appear like a loser as he stood alone and drank his embarrassment away.

“really? thanks bro, i was hoping to score some digits tonight.” chad smiled gratefully, already trying to turn away and leave the second ethan gave him his own sort of permission.

“what?! come on, dont leave me here by myself. i look stupid.” immediately ethan felt his heart drop of the idea being seen standing alone at a party, and no matter how much he had disdain to his so called ‘friends’, no matter how badly he wished nothing more than to see chads face as he plunged a knife sharp enough to cut through metal like cheese through his body; to see the life leaving his eyes and the wound oozing that beautiful crimson red color ethan couldn’t seem to get enough of, the last thing he wanted was to look awkwarder than he already was perceived to be.

“you just said i could go!” the dark-skinned boy argued, turning back around to face the taller brunette who gave him the most panicked look in return.

“yeah, cause i was hoping youd say no!”

“how does that make any sense?! if you didn’t want me to leave, just say that!”

ethans face turned into a bit of a pouting look as he silently pleaded for the martin boy to stay by his side.

“look, why don’t you just come with me? i don’t understand what you’re so freaked out about.” chad bargained with ethan who in turn immediately shook his head, planting his feet in the position they were in.

“nope, no way. girls are scary!” ethan spoke in a whiny tone, pausing for a moment before bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a swing of the hard hitting beverage, a stinging in his throat lasting for about a minute as he continued conversing with chad.

“and that’s exactly why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” the shorter boy witted back, causing ethans face to quickly form into what looked to be shock and hurt masking the actual feeling of anger he felt. joke or not, ethan was actually a very hot tempered boy who could get offended quite easily; not that anyone knew that.

the martin boy sighed and decided to rest a reassuring hand on the brown eyed boys shoulder, observing his face which was slightly shaded from the cardboard robot helmet he was wearing, probably another reason ethan was hardly getting any female attention. his costume.

“listen man, stand here and mope all you want, the whole part of a party is to meet people and have fun. i get your shy and you got that whole loner gimmick going on but i don’t want that to stop me from getting my chad on! ill be back here to meet up with you in an hour, maybe try meeting someone new, doesnt even have to be a girl at this point. just.. try, okay?”

chad offered ethan a sympathetic look which only made ethan cringe more before he removed his hand from his shoulder and took off to a group of dancing girls, smoothly sliding in and sparking up conversation almost immediately. how ethan envied that.

letting out an internal (and slightly external) groan, ethan brought his cup up to his lips once again and finished the rest of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on chad who was already talking and laughing with a group of students; entirely girls, that ethan shared a class with.

for almost a minute he didn’t move, suffering in silence and shooting a death glare at chad hidden under the dim lighting of the house. honestly? ethan couldn’t wait to kill him.

he felt isolated. watching everyone mingle and dance with their friends, lovers, and even strangers. he had no other solution than to to drink away his embarrassment, he thought, as he turned around to make his way to the kitchen where the alcohol was, taking one step forward and immediately running into someone shorter than him; their own drink splashing all over the both of them, wetting his cardboard chest piece and their outfit too.

“ah shit- fuck, im sorry about that, seriously.” he’s met with a small voice, not quiet but not extremely loud, gentle enough so that if you want to be able to hear it properly you’d have to tune the blasting music out and focus entirely on them.

jesus fucking christ, give me a break already! ethan thought to himself, annoyance brimming through his entire body as he glanced to the now darker and wet spots of his cardboard chestpiece before finally looking down and at the person who bumped into him, a girl.

“accidents happen, don’t worry about it.” he forced out, trying for the death of him not to want to reach out and strangle you right there; his face was met with an awkward half smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. despite his anger, he was able to take the time to notice that your face wasn’t half-bad to look at.

he continued to stare at you for a moment, waiting for you to say something, maybe to apologize again? to stumble out some stupid excuse? pathetically flirt? well, not that he’d really mind that last part if he was being honest. he liked the idea of having a girl liking him, but he was terrible at initiating anything.

“you all good? you’re not gonna malfunction on me or anything?” you joked, the both of you internally cringing just a bit at the awkwardness but it seemed to calm ethan from his current state of mind as he met you with furrowed eyebrows and a unsure smile.

“oh, the costume.” he spoke, mostly to himself, while scratching the back of his head. “think ill be good.”

you nod, the fainted tinge of pink lighting up your cheeks and ethan studies you for a moment longer.

“are you new? i haven’t seen you on campus before.” curiously, the brunette boy watches your face for a reaction, taking note of your every move while under his watch.

“sorta. i mean, if you consider three months to be new. i transferred here a while ago, it’s always been my dream to move to new york so once i saved up some money i chased my dreams.” you explain, and ethan nods, finally allowing a boyish smile to consume his features. for the most part it was forced, continuing to hold up his friendly image.

he doesn’t have to reply before you hop to the next subject, this time you’re asking the question.

“aren’t you chads roommate?”

“yeah, im ethan. ethan landry. nice to meet you..?” he holds his hand out for a handshake, trailing off the edge of his sentence as he waits for you to finish.

“(y/n). nice to meet you, ethan ethan.” you accept the short handshake, gently shaking hands and noticing the unreasonable strength and grip to his hold that didn’t seem the match the innocent, and dare you say weak look written all over his face while making a bad joke about his name from his introduction that still seems to score a smile from him; and ethan couldn’t help but notice the fact he didn’t have to force this one on his face. it came naturally.

“(y/n),” he repeated, as if trying your name out for himself. he smiled a little, that same shy nerdy facade written all over his face. “you got a last name?”

“does it matter?”

“i- guess not?” he looked a bit caught off guard but there was no actual hostility or mystery in your voice, just some sass. you were honestly entertaining.

“so why’re you standing here all alone?” you switch topics again, which ethan took note of. your mind seemed to wonder fast, moving from one thing to the next with no hesitation.

“ah, it’s kinda embarrassing.” the boy admitted, a small warm blush coating his pale complexion as he found himself not wanting to tell you the real reason why. wait- a blush? no, that couldn’t be right. he must just be feeling hot. all the alcohol was effecting him, or something. “i don’t really know a lot of people here, so i was just hanging out with chad till he left me to go talk to some girls.”

“ah, a typical chad move. literally and figuratively.” you nod, feeling yourself start to relax your body language more around the curly haired brunette the longer you were near him.

he chuckled, looking at you with those sweet chocolate brown eyes of his that gave you the most heartwarming feeling. “you’re kinda funny.” he tries to compliment, smiling now, a more natural grin than the ones he offered you originally. though it could be taken as a compliment or an insult, his tone genuinely sounded sincere, like he had no bad intentions. he was just an awkward guy who had no idea how to socialize or talk to the pretty girl in front of him pretty girls.

“i kinda thank you?” you respond, definitely confused on how to take in his comment.

he smiled awkwardly at you and seemed to look as if he was hiding his face as he glanced to the floor. “sorry,” he mumbled, and you felt your heart twinge as he resembled that of a hurt puppy.

“you’re good. i appreciate the sentiment.” reassuring him, he glanced back up at you with a crooked toothless smile, feeling his guard come down all around him. he had no idea why he was feeling this way, or why it felt so easy to talk to you.

there was a moment where silence fell between the two of you, staring deeply into your eyes he looked like he wanted to say something, an internal struggle of conflict in his mind while you simply watched in utter bliss and oblivion to the situation.

“i guess i should get going, i have to find my friend before they run off with some stranger they just met to hook up with. ill see you around though?” you offer him politely, and ethan felt a strange hollowness in his heart at the idea of you leaving him, but he pushed those feelings back and nodded anyway.

you’re about to turn around, start the search for your your friend in the mass of drunken college students, and you make it about five whole feet away before a voice calls your name. ethans voice.

“hey, (y/n)?” you turn around, meeting his eyes again. there’s something in them this time. it’s noticeable now as he locks eyes without you. something a bit sinister about the way he holds your gaze and his stance now looks like he’s taking over the whole room, confident but dark all the same.

“yeah?” you ask. you definitely notice the way his eyes have lost all emotion except one: danger. but this is ethan, ethans a nice boy. it must be the dim lighting and the short yet further distance between the two of you than it previously was.

“don’t get too close to me.” he warns you, and you feel a strange feeling crawl up your spine. the way he looks at you while he says it. the way his tone has completely voided from the sweet voice you were speaking to before and the aura all around him that now screams danger.

you don’t know what to do, unsure of what to say. maybe he was joking, maybe he was drunk, or maybe he really just didn’t want your companionship.

all you can do is awkwardly smile. “ill see you around, ethan.” and with that, you walk away from him, searching the packed house for your friend and forgetting about the short yet easy-going (up until the end) conversation you held with the landry boy.

and though you’ve pushed your interaction to the back of your head, ethans eyes never once leaves the back of yours.

𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𖦹 a/n :: the most unrealistic part of scream vi is that ethans a virgin

started 08.04.23. finished 08.04.23.

(о´∀`о)

©️nolovelingers 2023

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itsscromp · 6 months

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FNAF animatronics x reader

Did I go see the FNAF movie earlier today... yes. Am i going to write something about it, Hell yes !!! I may be open to writing for the fazgang maybe in the near future but this is just something for me to branch out and get out of my comfort zone. But anyways, Enjoy. Word count:815

One of the many things that clears your head after a day at school is riding your bike around town. It was the major thing that helped calm you down and clear your head. You usually take the same path every time, But today for some reason you decided to mix it up and went down a different road.

Upon riding down the unfamiliar area, You stumbled upon a building that looked abandoned for a long time. It looked like an attraction from back in the day. Under the name of 'Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria' and the mascot caught your attention.

You wanted to continue on your ride through the area but a part of your head wanted to know if there was anything inside, and why it had been abandoned for so long. The many questions in your mind and there was only one way to satisfy it. So you pedalled around the pizzeria and then found a potential opening at the back.

Parking your bike, You then jimmied the wooden panel and got it open, leading you inside a vent shaft. Pulling out your phone flashlight, you crawled inside and then kicked the vent off. Stumbling inside into what you'd expected. a restaurant and arcade, Still somewhat intact, despite the dust of course.

Continuing to explore the place, you then saw red curtains, A stage ??

"What do you have in the back of their ??' You said to yourself as you went to the one on the left and peeled open the curtain, Jumping when you saw what looked like an animatronic of a fox... wearing an eye patch ?? It didn't look in too good of shape too, seeing the holes on the skin.

"How long have you been here ??" You turned to the other stage peeling back the curtains and saw a bunny, a chicken and bear animatronics too, they weren't in too bad of damage like the fox, but they looked like they did need some TLC.

"Why didn't they take you guys, they could've helped you find a new home..." You closed the curtains as you backed away, having enough of your adventure.

But as you began to walk away, you heard a child's laughter. Now you were starting to get spooked out.

"Who's there ??" You called out.

But before you could react, the place sprung to life as the lights and sounds then shimmered and blared, You then noticed the curtains being pulled back as the animatronics started to dance and sing 'Talking in your Sleep' you were completely mesmerised by what was happening, you froze and watched.

You then found yourself tapping your feet to the beat of the song and then began to lightly dance, this was pretty fun.

Once the song was over, you couldn't help but smile at them.

"That was fantastic guys" You said to them as you picked up your backpack and began to walk out, But you were stopped again once you heard heavy thumping. Turned to see the animatronics moving of their own free will. Was this apart of the show ?? Nevertheless, they walked up to you and just looked down at you, Holy cow they were tall. Your anxiety slowly rose when they circled around you. they reached out their hands to you. But what you didn't expect was they started to tickle you.

"Guys... Stohohohohohop" You giggled as you squirmed around.

Your laughs grew and grew until it started to echo throughout the entire pizzeria. The animatronics had their mouths open, Maybe in a way to show you they were happy ??. That someone has finally interacted with them for so long.

They let you go as you smiled up at them, Whatever was going on. You were pretty happy you did interact with them. The fox gently took your hand and brought you over to a nearby poster and pointed at it with its hook. Showing you a poster with each of them, showing their respective names. The pirate fox is named Foxy. Bonnie is the bunny, Chica is the chicken and the leader Freddy Fazbear.

"It's nice to meet you all" You turned back to the others who had their mouths open, smiling again.

You heard your phone go off as your mom texted you to come back home. oh man.

"I gotta go now..."

They started to look sad, they were sad that you had to go.

"I'll.. I'll come back tomorrow ??' You suggested to them and they perked up, mouths opening again. yaaaaaayyyy !!!!

Foxy then wrapped his arms around you, gently hugging you as you hugged him back gently. Being mindful of the parts and everything, You gave the others a hug as well before waving goodbye to them and crawling back through the vent. You were excited to see them again the next day. They were pretty fun.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board @gooptoshi

#platonic #reader insert #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf #fnaf movie #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the pirate #Fazgang

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scenteddelusion5 · 2 months

Text

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 2

Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)

Note: I learned how to do ť̷̛̠̝͐̀͗̈̎̐h̵̢͎̥͙̳͚͉̮̊̿̋͑̃͜͝ị̵͖͉̈́͂̾̽s̷̮͖͕̞͉̲̝̿̈́͗̿̏́̚͜͠

Also this is definitly going to be a 4 or 5 parter.

Word count: 3385

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Y/n was sitting on their bed, looking at the surprisingly tin device in their hand. These smart phones looked so different compared to the phones in their time. Turning the thing on was a bit of a struggle, but thanks to Vox choosing the settings were easy and his phone number was already saved.

Hello Vox, this is Y/n. I hope you get this message.

The man on the receiving end hadn't read it yet, which they learned they could see bases on colour of the checkmarks, so instead they started exploring the unfamiliar tech a bit, mainly the internet. It wasn't invented yet when they were alive but with the amount of books they read, they were familiar with how it worked.

Y/n was looking up pictures of the TV Demon when a knock came from their door. "Little fawn, we need to talk." They swiftly hid the smartphone under their pillow.

Y/n sighed, "come in."

Alastor walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "Fawn, I would first like to apologize for the way that I acted yesterday, it was unbecoming, however, I need you to understand that you can't trust Vox." His shadow grabbed one of their romance books and brought it to him. "He only wants to get close to you, to get to me and I don't want you to get hurt. Not only does he already have such a relation with his colleague Valentino but me and him have been in a long feud. You see..." Their father proceeded the tell them the same story Vox had.

"So that's why, I'm sorry this wasn't the novel worthy romance you hoped it was, but if you wished to meet new people, I would gladly take you out of the house sometime."

"Thanks for telling me dad." They put their head on his shoulder. "I forgive you... So where would we be going?"

"Hmm, that's a surprise. Put on something decent and come down for breakfast." Alastor stood up and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Y/n reached for the phone. A message popped up from the screen.

God, I got to teach you how to text Anyway I was thinking There's this new restaurant opening up, want to go?

I see, Y/n thought, texting is very casual.

I would love too but my father is taking me out today to make up for yesterday. We could go tomorrow

Sure I'll see you at the edge of the forest

Y/n was casually dressed, their phone hidden in their jacket. Alastor and them were walking down a familiar street. "I've already been to Cannibal Town, you know that."

"Yes, yes, I know, little fawn. That isn't the surprise." Alastor waved them off.

The two made their way to Rosie's Emporium. Rosie was standing outside with a younger looking man standing next to her. He wore a brown waistcoat, matching pants and a bowtie. His eyes were pitch black like Rosie's.

"Alastor! You really kept us waiting!" Rosie laughed. "And here I thought you were a gentleman."

"Yes, yes, we took a bit longer. Anyway speaking of gentleman, Y/n, meet Paris." Alastor pushed the man in front of them. "He's a young, stand-up, cannibal demon. I thought that you surely didn't want to explore the rest of hell with your old man, so I asked Paris here to go instead."

"It's an honour to meet you." Paris kissed Y/n on the hand. "I would love to show you around the rest of hell."

"Uhm... I..." Y/n looked between him and their father. "Sure, let's go," they sighed.

Alastor and Rosie watched the two leave. "Once they've spend their day with him, Y/n'll forget all about Vox. Now come inside. I've got a new shipment of livers." Rosie invited her old friend inside.

Vox was still removing the thorns and branches from his favourite suit when Velvette entered his room.

"Wait, so you did go after them?!" She pulled one of the branches out of his hat. "You're sooo whipped. Did you find some dirt on Alastor?"

"No, I didn't." Vox stood up and straightened his suit. "But I do need to prepare for tomorrow."

"No-" Velvette jumped onto him and held his screen between her hands. "- you have a DATE!!! OMG, you two should totally get married, could you imagine the Radio Demon's face. Hahaha." She pulled up her phone and started typing something in google. "So where are you taking them? What are you wearing?"

"We're going to that new restaurant and I'm wearing my usual suit." He pulled away from the other Vee.

"You're not wearing your work clothes. Follow me, we're going shopping."

"So yeah that was the first time I had ever eaten a human heart, it was quite experience, hahaha." Paris was rambling on and on. "Rosie had introduced me to your father, he seemed have approved of me. I, mean, that's crazy, he is THE Radio Demon and all... Oh, have I already told you about my cooking? I-"

The whole time this demon had been talking about himself, oh and the Radio Demon of course. Paris seemed to idolize him, which only put Y/n off more. At least they got to see the rest of hell. The two were walking down the road, a unfamiliar city standing in the distance.

"We should go the other direction." Paris was about to walk the other way.

"Why?

"Oh that's like, uhm, the three Vees territory. It's not a place to take a fair maiden to."

"Dad told you to show me around hell and I want to go there." They continued to walk to the city and it's flashy lights. "Are you coming or am I going alone?"

The two were heading towards the shopping centre. The whole way Paris was trying to convince them to go back. But Y/n was stubborn.

"This really isn't a place for civilized people as you can see, I can show you around another circle in hell." As Paris was talking, they walked up to a window.

The shop window showed a total of ten TV's. Vox 2 Night was on. He looked so handsome in his suit talking about VoxTech's newest invention. They were immediately pulled away from their conversation with the cannibal and lovingly stared at the demon on the broadcast.

"Hey, Y/n." That wasn't Paris' voice.

"Velvette, why are we going to the mall when you can just conjure an outfit for me?" Vox asked.

Velvette pulled up her Sinstagram and showed it to Vox. "Because it's part of the EXPERIANCE, just look. Shopping pics are all over everyone's for-you-page and if we say we're preparing you for a date, we'll totally go viral."

"That's no, we're not telling anyone I'm going on a date." Vox grabbed her phone out of her hands. "Who knows how Val will do when he finds out. No, nope."

"But-"

"No!" Vox's screen zoomed in on his left eye, black circles spiralled in it. As he was using his hypnotising powers, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the distance.

"Fine," Velvette sighed, "but at lea-"

But Vox wasn't paying attention to his colleague again. He was walking to the person standing in front of one of his techshops. They were intently watching his night show. Their eyes sparkled.

"Hey, Y/n," he greeted them.

"Vox! What are you doing here?" Y/n's face immediately brightened seeing the TV Demon.

"Hello, I'm Paris." The demon stepped in between the two lovebirds. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, you can fuck off." Vox pushed past him.

Y/n, me and Vox were just about to go shopping. Do you want to come with?" Velvette asked.

"I would love to." They pushed a hairlock behind their ear.

"Another time, I was showing Y/n around and we were just on our way to doomsday district." Paris butted in again. "Besides, aren't you and the Radio Demon rivals? It's highly inappropriate for someone who has not been approved by their father to be around them."

"And I don't think a wannabe, cannibal who doesn't know his place is worthy of being seen with them." Vox retorted. "So Y/n, what do you think?"

"I would love to go shopping with you!" They turned to the other cannibal. "I'm going to hang out with them, you can either come with or leave us alone."

"But-" Before Paris could make another objection, Y/n dragged the overlord by the arm to the shopping centre.

"So what's up with hollow eyes over there?" Velvette asked as Vox and Paris were fighting about a suit or something.

"Oh yeah," Y/n's nervous laugh filled the room, "dad wanted him to come with me while going out, I've never been here before. I didn't really get a choice in the matter."

"Hmm, don't worry. I got ya!!" Velvette walked up to the bickering boys. "Hey, Paris! I saw this polo that would suit you. Come on." She winked at her colleague while pulling him away.

"I never realised Velvette's taste is stuck-up bitchass," Vox murmured.

Y/n linked their arm around the TV's. "It isn't, that's why we should make a run for it now before she gets sick of him."

The mall was giant, every corner held a store a different store. The two were looking around a souvenir store.

"How about this?" Y/n asked as they held up a keychain of a hung rat.

"That's disgusting, wh- HEY HEY!!" Vox screamed as they held the dead animal close to his face. "Stop it!"

"Fine..." Y/n took a step back. "Hey, how do your hypnosis powers work? I know you use them for your shows, but I didn't sense anything at all."

"Indirect hypnosis isn't as strong as direct. My shows only work on lowly denizens, so you have nothing to worry about in that regard." Vox looked at the snow globes decorated with death animals.

"And direct."

Vox looked away from them. "I could make you do anything I wanted but I'm not going to do that. I like you just the way you are."

His words shot straight through their heart. "Stop saying corny stuff like that." A red blush decorated their face.

"But I love your reactions, sweetie."

"Stop."

"Sweetheart."

"Vox..."

"My love~"

"VOX!" Their face was brighter than Alastor's hair. "S̴̹͎͗̈́͂̏͛̈̿͝͝T̸̡̛̼̥͓͖͂͛́̒̈́̄̀͛̏̔͒̎̌̕͝͝O̵̧̖̖͍͕͔͈͂̈́͑̅P̸̢̥̝̦͎̂̌̽ Ȉ̴̟̗̗̗̖̟̞͍̙͊͑̐̋̂̀̆̋T̵̺͉͔̮̺̩̔͌̽͊̔̍̆̿́̔̇̇͘." Their ears fell back, eyes glowed and their teeth got sharper.

Vox was stunned by this reaction, they were terrifying yes, but they were also kind of cute? Pixel hearts floated across his screen. "Wow, you're so hot."

"I, I- uhm, you're handsome too." They twirled a hairlock around their finger.

...

"So." Vox broke the awkward silence. "How is that phone suiting you?"

"Oh." They pulled the little device out of their pocket. "Yeah, I'm still figuring out what the apps are all about but I think I understand the chatting and goulgle." They opened their phone and showed it to him

"You still have the standard VoxTech background?" Vox asked.

"You can change it?"

"Yes." Vox grabbed their phone and posed for a selfie. Y/n, not completely understanding what's going on, copied him. "Wait," the overlord said as he was focused on their phone, "here."

He showed them their new background; a picture of the both of them smiling, Y/n looking straight into the camera and Vox glancing lovingly to them, a edited in, glowing heart surrounding the both of them.

"That's so cute!" They stared at the picture now decorating the background of their little picture device.

"I also downloaded 666+ for you along with a free account. you can watch any 666 show on there."

"Even your shows?" Their eyes sparkled.

"Of course." Vox was definitely going to download that image of them to his hard drive once he got home. "Anyway, let's leave. I don't think we're going to buy something here."

"Velvette? Where did Y/n go?" Paris asked.

"I don't know," she answered, "oh look at this shirt." She held up a striped polo.

"I promised their dad I would look after them. Oh, if the Radio Demon finds out I lost them, he's going to hate me!" The cannibal started to panic. "No, I should go to him, if I tell him in time maybe he won't kill me."

"Relax." She rolled her eyes. "Let's go find them, they couldn't have gone far. Besides what would the Radio Demon say if you left them lost and alone now?"

"Right, yeah right." Paris started searching throughout the entire shopping mall.

Vox! I can't keep distracting this guy He's dead set on finding them

We'll come Meet you at the restrooms on the Westside

"Hey! Paris, I know where they are!" She yelled at the still freaked out man.

"Right, lead the way!"

When they arrived, Vox and Y/n were already there.

Paris rushed up to them. "Y/n are you alright? You're not hurt are you? What would your father say if he knew you ran off?"

"I don't care what he would say. I'm my own person." They retorted and then turned to Velvette. "Are you hungry too? Me and Vox wanted to go get some food."

"Sure, I could use a snack."

Paris' face brightened. "I know this great restaurant close by that I just know you would love." He tried to hide his smirk when they agreed to go there.

The restaurant looked nice enough but there didn't seem many people inside. But that also meant they got a table of four immediately. The inside was decorated with abstract paintings and decorative, animal skeletons.

"I've never been in this place. It's rather nice." Vox studied a squirl skull. He couldn't understand why Paris was looking so smug. The waiter passed around the menu and left again. Even the staff was polite, what was going on? But when he opened the menu, it clicked...

It was a cannibal restaurant.

Vox was about to protest when Y/n spoke up. "Oehhh, I didn't think they had places like this outside of Cannibal Town. They even have my favourite!"

He looked over the menu again, looking for anything he could possibly stomach. There weren't any vegan options... shit. This was going to be a loooong lunch.

Velvette shot a concerned look at Vox, when the waiter came back. "Have you made a decision?"

"Yes, I'll have the legbeef, medium rare, and the lady will have the smoked heart." Paris ordered for the two of them.

"Uhm-" Vox glitched, hastily trying to make a decision. I'll have the smoked heart too." It was their favourite dish, he should've at least tried it once.

Velvette was still in utter shock that her colleague was going along with this. "I'll have the uhm... Liver bolognaise." She quickly chose the least horrible sounding dish, at least there would be a shit ton of cheese and sauce on it. The girl still couldn’t believe she was doing this and for Vox of all people!!!

The dinner went fairly well all things considered. Velvette barely touched her dish, while Vox did take a full bite and it didn't taste as bad as he'd expected, actually it tasted great! But knowing he was eating an actual demon spoiled the dish for him. Still, he finished it.

After lunch the group split up again, Paris and Y/n going back to Cannibal Town while Vox and Velvette went back to the V-tower.

Alastor had brought some of his daughters romance books to Rosie, one of them laying open on the table. He wanted to at least try to understand what got Y/n so hung up about Vox and romance.

"So, they basically get threatened and stalked by this vampire and they fall in love with him? I can't believe Y/n has been reading this nonsense." Alastor rolled his eyes and reached out for the next novel. "And this one, to get over her heartbreak, a young demoness writes heartfelt letters, confessing her love for the sinners, never intending to send them. However, when she opens her box one morning she finds all her letters gone, send out. How will she deal with the 5 denizens she accidentally confessed to? Is this supposed to be interesting, I don't get it."

"Come on, Alastor. You want to bond more with her, right? This is part of it." Rosie picked up one of the books to and reads the back. "This one doesn't seem too bad, it's about the love between two demons who look back on their living years as young champs."

"Ugh," the Radio Demon complained. "Luckily I don't need to worry about them and Vox anymore. I must say that Paris boy is quite the charming man, a perfect addition to our home, tell me how did you find him?"

"Oh, Paris is a BIG fan of yours and came to Cannibal Town in the hopes to meet you. For the last few months he has been admired by ALL the ladies in town. Dapper, charming, smart, looks, he got it all as they say, " Rosie laughed, "so when I heard your little conundrum I just knew he was going to be perfect for them."

"Yes, he would make quite the son-in-law but we'll have to see how the date went first." Alastor almost spit out his coffee when he read the backside of the next book; an older Cannibal and younger tech demon falling in love despite being from rivalling families. Was this were Y/n got the idea of falling in love with vox? "Seems like I'll have to have a talk with y/n about fiction and reality."

When Velvette and Vox got back, the last Vee was waiting on them. "Did you two go out without me? You're hurting my feelings."

"Oh, fuck off Val, we just went out for a new suit." She held up her middle finger as she left for her department.

"Oh really?" Val asked, "you went out for a new suit? And you weren't with that whore?" He held up his phone showing Sinstagram. A blurry picture of Vox and Y/n could be seen.

"Yes, I was buying a new suit Valentino, we just ran into them is all." Vox tried to keep back his blush. "Besides, what do you care?"

His colleague's answer infuriated him. "What do I care? Since you met that useless whore, you've kept me dry."

"Not everything is about sex and I highly doubt you're dry, you've got enough playthings." Vox walked towards the elevator. "You don't need me, get over it."

The elevator doors closed again, leaving Valentino all alone. "That fucking doe-eyed BITCH!! I'm going to kill them! Kill their whole fucking family!!!" He grabbed a glass from his assistant and threw it against de wall. "But I'm going to start with them..."

"It's unfortunate our date was interrupted by those two, but no matter we could always meet again," Paris spoke as the two of them were on their way back to Cannibal Town. "I am free this wee-"

"Wait!" They yelled. "This was supposed to be a date?"

"Well, yes."

"No, not happening! Listen up, I am in no way shape or form, interested in you that way!"

"Hmm, I see, what a shame." Paris put on a seemingly fake frown. "You know I was going to keep quiet about Vox and you but it seems like I'm more devoted to the Radio Demon. I wonder how he is going to react... What he'll do to that bastard... Oh well."

"What? I... Please don't tell dad!" Y/n begged.

"Hmm, how about this, I keep quiet about your little rendezvous, your affair, and you become my girlfriend."

"I... Uhmm..."

"How about this I'll give you two days to think about it." The cannibal put on an atrocious smile. "Choose wisely, or you might never see Vox ever again."

"There is my favourite demon." Alastor patted their head. "Did you have a good time, little fawn?"

"Yes, I did. It was great." Y/n smiled widely, doing their absolute best to hide their nervousness.

"That's amazing dear." Their father turned to Paris. "Thank you, I hope you will show them around some more another time."

"I would love to sir!"

Part 3

I'm an unoriginal ass. I know, I know, <3

JK here's part 3

Masterlist/request guidelines

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel requests #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #reader requests

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slytherin-ghost · 1 year

Note

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night?

I was wondering if you could do a batfam x villian Bruce Wayne biological son?

This is just an idea i love angst

Like Bruce didn't know about him and he was raised by villain's and can control blue fire. He hate heros and villains. He probably feels that heros are supposed to save those in need but why did no one save him? A childish part of him wants to be saved and loved but what kind of idiot would give a villain a second chance specially him, a villain that have both heros and villains hate?

Hi! I'm doing good! Thanks for the ask!

I didn't know if you wanted a specific villain so I did Hugo Strange and Joker. Also, the reader is about 15 - 16 years old

Flashbacks are in bold

Warnings: Violence, fire, absent father, absent mother, angst, PTSD(?), crying, Hugo Strange being a d!ck, child abandonment, yelling

Why did no one save me?!

You ran across the roof tops and jumped building to building, you didn't look behind yourself, making sure you got far away from Arkham Asylum as possible. Once you got far enough, you stopped and took a breath the adrenaline running out. Sitting next to a tree.

It was a normal night. You had to talk to a psychiatrist, not expecting it to be Hugo Strange.

"So lets talk about your father did you know him?" Strange asked

"No." you replied, the Joker raised you after your mother and her new boyfriend ran away because they owed Joker some money.

"Biological father perhaps?"

"No." He didn't know you existed, apparently he "saved" your mother somehow. As far as you knew he wasn't a hero, none of the heros were actually heros. If they were why did they help you?

Strange asking about your father isn't what pushed you over the edge. It was him asking about heros.

You gently lit a branch from the tree on fire. The blue flames escaping your hand. The fire spread across the tree making the whole thing trapped in the flames. You leaned against it. Your power of fire didn't affect you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as a figure stood in front of you. "Hello there." You greeted looking up at the Batman. "Come to take me back to Arkham?"

"Listen, your just a kid. You need professional help." The Batman stated

"Help from who the heros?! The heros who were supposed to help me but never did!" Fire grew in your hands the angrier you got before you threw it at the man in front of you.

He quickly fought back. Dodging every attempt that you made to hit him. At some point, Batman got a good hit on you knocking you out.

Bruce, not Batman, Bruce looked down at your body. He felt sorry for you. He got some of your backstory from Hugo Strange. He felt obligated to help you. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents. At least he had Alfred growing up, you had no one of a crazy clown.

He picked up your body and sat you in the back of the bat mobile.

Once back in the cave, Bruce took some of you DNA. You had a resemblance to his looks. "Your sure, he's going to be happy about you helping him?" Dick asked "No." Bruce replied. The boys had joined Bruce in the cave "Can't imagine what he went through, being raised by the joker." Jason commented. There was a ding signaling that the DNA test was done.

Bruce froze after reading the results.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

A few hours after you woke up you looked around. Unfamiliar with your surroundings. "Your up." A voice remarked. "Yes. I am." You replied "I wanted to talk to you about something." The voice said as Batman stepped forward. "Your parents. Do you remember anything about them?" You shook your head. "I was able to track you father." Batman stated. Your dad? How?

"Really?"

Batman nodded and removed his cowl "I'm your father." Batman was Bruce Wayne and your father!

Anger began to grow inside you again. "Your my father?! But your a hero?!" You yelled "You a hero but didn't dome to help me!"

Bruce sighed, "I would've if I knew about you. Your mother never told me." He said "But I'd like to help you now. I have four other boys that I'd helped-"

"You helped other boys but not me?!"

"Yes but I-"

"Why didn't anyone help me! When I needed help! No one came!"

Tears came to your eyes

"Screw your help! I can help myself if I need help!" And you left...

Bruce sighed and sat down. The boys. Dick,Jason, Tim and Damian felt sorry after hearing what happened.

They made a deal to find you that night.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Part 2?

Thanks for reading! I would like to make a part two if anyone wants me too. Please let me know if I missed any warnings.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #damian wayne #tim drake x male reader #male reader #part 2?#angst prompt

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trolls-with-tails · 3 months

Text

Wanderer's Lullaby (The Black Falcon Sneak Peek)

By the time John Dory finished the last remainders of his chores for the day, a quick glance at the quietly ticking clock on the kitchen wall was enough to startle the revelation into him that the hour had long since dwindled away into the night.

Sloughing off the sticky, sudsy remnants of dish soap from his arms and hands under the warm water of the tap, the boy looked away from the clock, disturbed by how quickly time had slipped him by. Today had felt like a blur of bustling mechanically about, and when he tried to reach into the recesses of his mind to recall how exactly he went about the day, the voids in his memory that greeted him were…concerning, to say the least. But it certainly wasn’t unfamiliar; not at this point in his life.

In fact, ever since his band with his brothers accelerated in fame, so, too, did the weight of expectations and responsibilities grow heavier upon John Dory’s shoulders, and most days, it was enough to nearly bring him to the cusp of suffocating. Even so, he knew in his heart that he could not break, could not falter, lest he risk the foundations of everything his brothers deserved and more crumbling under their feet.

After all, John Dory was the eldest. His brothers’ protector. Their primary guardian when Grandma Rosiepuff’s health failed her and the cruel hand of fate tore their parents away from them. John Dory had to be everything for his family. John Dory had to be perfect, and nothing less.

The sound of distant laughter is what mercifully pulled him from the dark, downward spiral of his thoughts, and John Dory couldn’t help but smile, tired but fond all the same, as he tucked the last few plates back into the cabinet before padding lightly down the hallway, towards his brothers’ shared room. As he went along, he took a moment to study the many photographs hanging on the wall in frames of polished wood, and here, in the shadows cast by the night, laying out a shrouded veil over the world, captured moments of sweet family memories didn’t appear so innocent now, leering down at him through the darkness with unblinking eyes and unwavering smiles.

It wasn’t the first time John Dory wondered if he deserved to belong in these photographs, and he ducked his head low and continued his trek in uneasy silence, determined to not allow his head to cloud over again. He had his fill of enough stormy thoughts lately.

Passing by the shut door to Grandma Rosiepuff’s bedroom, where his keen ears could pick up on the muffled sound of her snoring softly away, the oldest BroZone member rounded the corner of the corridor, and, upon opening the door, was met with a sight beyond the threshold of the space he shared with his brothers that had him ready to tie all of his siblings into one big knot.

Leaning against the doorframe, John Dory planted a hand on his hip, his tail twitching by his ankles. “Anyone wanna tell me why you’re all up and out of bed, at twelve o’clock, on a school night?” Pausing to take in the fact that little Branch was in on the scheme and nowhere near his crib like he should be, he vehemently added, “And what in the name of music are you guys doing with Bitty B? I put him down for bed at eight!”

They were all clustered together around an unruly spread of colored paper, pencils, crayons, glue, and scissors, and a million thoughts as to what could possibly be so important about the setup that it had them long neglecting their bedtime flooded John Dory all at once. Did they procrastinate on a project and were now racing to make up for lost time? Was it a gift to the pretty girl that always waved and smiled at Spruce on the way to school? Or could it be they were working on a new album cover?

Before the questions could leave his mouth, Clay broke the ensuing silence with a groan, dropping the pair of scissors he’d been holding haphazardly against a pile of paper scraps. “Great. We’ve been busted, boys.”

“Only ‘cause you wouldn’t shut your big trap,” Spruce shot back, narrowing his eyes before returning to his task of diligently sprinkling glitter over swirls of glue, making a point of not looking his older brother in the eye and ignoring Clay’s indignant quailing.

Floyd, who was sitting with Branch in his lap, both of their cheeks decorated in a variety of colorful stickers, was the only one who had enough sense to look ashamed, sheepishly bouncing his giggling baby brother on his knee. “Sorry, JD. We were just…uh…” Wincing, he aimed a pleading glance in Clay’s direction, rewarded only with a mere shrug.

Spruce sighed, redirecting his focus from his work to sit back on his haunches and peel at a patch of drying glue on his palm. This time, he dared to meet the expectant gaze of BroZone’s eldest member, still leaning in the doorway and pinning them with his eyes like insects to a board, and there was resignation in the way his shoulders slumped and his ears drooped. “Alright, alright, guess it’s up to me to spill.” Steepling his fingers together in what JD assumed was an effort to save face, the purple-haired troll continued, “We were working on your present for tomorrow, Johnny.”

John Dory blinked slowly. A present? Tomorrow? For what? Brain spinning with questions, he was about to ask his brothers of such, when the epiphany struck him like a bolt of lightning.

His birthday was tomorrow.

By all the trolls, how could I forget that?

Remembering himself, John was quick to wipe away any traces of bewilderment from his expression, silently praying that none of his siblings spotted it. He had no doubt in his mind that his brothers would get on his case if they so much as suspected that his forgetfulness was attributed to his tendency to work himself to the bone, and the mere thought of his younger siblings catching a glimpse of the cracked, faulty John Dory that was behind the fortified wall of steel that was his confident, perfect persona was enough to send his stomach twisting into tight knots. It was not their job to shoulder their eldest brother’s problems; that burden was his and his alone, and he was determined to carry it with him into the grave and well into whatever afterlife was merciless enough to welcome him, so long as it meant that his beloved family never had to shed a tear in his favor. Enclosed by the Bergens at all times, there were more important, pressing matters worth crying about, and John Dory feeling a little overworked was not one of them, of this he was certain.

So on the flawless, impenetrable mask went, and John Dory straightened up from his spot against the doorframe and smiled like he knew the important date was coming up all along, like his memories and sense of time weren’t addled and misplaced from countless nights with little to no shut eye and numerous days spent tiring away at the grindstone of routine, of chipping away at his responsibilities until he’d dug himself somewhere deep and dark.

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” he insisted, but even so, his eyes couldn’t help but trail curiously over to what looked like a scrapbook on the floor, bound with black leather and white string and stuffed to the gills with vibrant paper. “Just making you all happy is enough of a birthday gift for me.”

Clay snorted. “Quit your babbling and take it, JD. I sustained battle scars over this.” He wiggled his bandaged fingers for emphasis.

“What Clay means to say,” Floyd cut in, but not before shooting the yellow-haired troll a meaningful glare, “is that while we know we didn’t have to give you anything for your birthday, we wanted to.” He offered his older brother a warm smile, which Branch giggled at, his small, pudgy hands reaching up to tug on the corners of his mouth.

Spruce nodded, a look in his eye that John Dory found himself nervous to fully interpret, something far too knowing and searching in that gaze of his. Was he catching on to his inner turmoil? By the trolls, JD internally pleaded that that was not the case, but his younger sibling continued to eye him in that strange, studying way before he addressed him next. “Exactly. You’ve been working really hard lately, and we wanted to give you something to show our appreciation.” Pausing to pick up a discarded bottle of glue from off the floor, he went on, “We were hoping to give it to you in the morning, but it turns out we weren’t as discreet about this as we thought. So, I guess we could add the last few details and give it to him now, right, guys?”

Clay and Floyd nodded in collective agreement, and it was the pink-haired troll who readjusted Branch in his lap and reached over him to make a grab for the scrapbook lying on the carpet, instructing John not to peek before adding the final finishing touches, the tip of his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration.

Once the present was declared complete and John Dory was allowed to open his eyes again, he watched as all of his brothers– minus Bitty B, who leisured in Floyd’s cradled arms and blew a raspberry at the eldest BroZone member when he looked his way– made to stand and approached him with Spruce at the head, holding out the leather-bound book with a sheepish tint to his cheeks.

“Happy birthday, JD,” his brothers chorused, softly so as to not rouse Grandma from her slumber down the hall.

Something inside John Dory’s chest swelled to the brim and tightened, but it was not the cold, prickly sensation of dread he had become so accustomed to. It was a warm, blooming feeling, one that spread in tingly ripples all throughout his arms, down to the tips of his fingers, and he swallowed hard so as to not choke on the intensity of it as he reached for his present with forcibly stilled hands.

I don’t deserve this, murmured the downtrodden voice in his head that he had endured for as long as he could remember, one not so easily quashed even after all these years of dealing with it, and such a feat continued to ring true as he looked down at the scrapbook in his grasp, crafted with every intention of being granted to him, of appreciating him, of him earning it. I just do what any other big sibling would do. It’s nothing special.

After all, why would John Dory, ever the imperfect troll, deserve any sort of praise, when it was his brothers who were shining examples of what perfection should be?

Still, for all his grievances, there was little keeping him from sweeping a tender hand down the scrapbook’s spine, quietly taking in the details that his brothers spent the night toiling away on, pouring every ounce of their blood, sweat, tears, and dedicated hearts into something they believed their older brother had earned. On the cover, using the stickers of themselves that were a part of their new merchandise line, cutesy decals of his brothers’ heads were lined up in a neat box formation, with himself being placed in the center. Spirals and zig-zags of glue shone with glitter all throughout, drawn neatly and artfully around each sticker, and John had to blink hard around the threat of tears in his eyes and braced himself as he opened the scrapbook.

The sight that greeted him beyond the cover was nearly enough to break the dam restraining the waterworks right then and there. Each page he leafed through not only had Clay’s neat handwriting, Floyd’s skilled doodles, and Spruce’s painstaking paper craftsmanship, it was filled to the brim with photos upon photos of the childhood memories they made together, even pictures predating the formation of BroZone.

The first time he held Spruce’s egg; Clay learning how to do a handstand; themselves and Grandma Rosiepuff posing by a snowman they’d rolled up and decorated together; a portrait of their parents smiling with their hands lovingly clasped together; Floyd gazing fondly at a sleeping Branch in his arms; himself and his brothers all dressed up for a fashion show that they put on for Grandma; Spruce and Clay out cold on the couch together after they challenged each other to a dance-off and both stubbornly refused to give in to the point of exhaustion… It was all here, the reason he woke up every morning to fight another day, the happy moments he poured every fiber of his being into to ensure they never ended, fitted together so carefully and lovingly in this scrapbook, and it was made with the belief that he deserved the thought and care put into it.

He blinked hard, and was barely given a moment to realize that a tear managed to slip through before he was being bombarded, finding himself encircled within the embrace of all of his brothers, the very people he would conquer the world for if the moment called for it.

“D’you like it?” Floyd was the first to speak, reaching up to brush away the stray teardrop rolling down his older brother’s cheek, his smile kind but nervous, as if he believed there was a universe where John Dory would reject something so precious, something so perfect.

“Do I like it?” John echoed incredulously, a wet chuckle escaping him against his better judgment. Drying his eyes with the back of his hand, he slung his arms around his siblings and pulled them in closer, hoping that the action alone could pour out every ounce of gratitude and love that the gift stirred within him, a swell of emotions that not even his lyrically-trained mind could put to words. “Guys, I love it! Gosh, it’s…it’s perfect. Thank you guys so, so much, this is already the best birthday ever!”

“Slow your roll there, pal,” Clay piped up from where he was nestled snugly against the older troll’s side, but the grin he wore betrayed his amusement, his eyes warm and fond. “The party barely even started!”

They lingered like that for what felt like ages, basking in each other’s company and the affectionate embrace that tied them together, and it was only when John Dory became aware of the ticking of the clock in the kitchen amidst the silence did he remember how late it was, his eyes flying open with a start.

“Again, thank you guys for the amazing birthday gift, but by all the trolls, have you seen what time it is?” JD quailed, regretfully wrangling himself out of the group hug to nudge his brothers in the directions of their respective beds. Thankfully, he was met with minimal protests for his prodding, as it quickly became apparent that spending their time working on an arts-and-crafts project instead of resting up for school was taking its toll, if the way they rubbed their drooping eyes and succumbed to long, exaggerated yawning fits was of any indication.

Clay clambered his way up onto the top bunk, and Spruce fell onto the mattress underneath John Dory’s, landing face-first onto his pillow.

Waiting until Floyd was seated at the edge of his bed to take Branch from his tiring arms, JD turned and was about to lay their baby brother down in his crib, when a hand catching him by the elbow halted him in his tracks. He blinked slowly and turned around to fix his younger brother with a curious stare, his intrigument only increasing when he was met with a bashful expression.

Realizing he now had the older troll’s attention, Floyd relinquished his hold on his brother’s arm in favor of picking at the tuft on his tail, diverting his gaze to the mess of art supplies scattered on the ground like it suddenly became the most interesting sight in the world. “Uh, I know I might be a little old for this, but I was thinking…” He hesitated, brows pinching in as he seemed to mull it over, until eventually, he decided whatever it was that he was going to say would be worth it and proceeded on, “D’you think you could sing that old lullaby you sometimes sing to Bitty B? You…you haven’t sung it in a while, and I miss it.”

Floyd’s soft-spoken words reached into John Dory’s chest with deceptively cruel talons and squeezed his heart without mercy, and it took all of his willpower to stifle the wince threatening to pull at his face. God, it had been a while, hadn't it? Foggy as his brain was nowadays, JD could still recall in perfect detail the nights he spent singing the very song Floyd wished to hear to all of his brothers, a melody passed down to him from his parents when he himself was a little tyke, one he continued to pay forward through his siblings in the hopes it would grant them the same sense of peace and security that it gave him. The realization that, in lieu of his ever-increasing duties, Branch was the most unfortunate out of his siblings to have heard the lullaby the least was nothing short of agonizing, for more often than not did John Dory find himself passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow lately. It didn’t occur to him until now that Branch might not be the only one missing out on the familiar song, too.

Some brother you are, that icy voice from before nagged at him again, and John Dory raced to prove it wrong. It was the least he could do after receiving a gift so special from his brothers; if anyone deserved everything they desired and more, it was his family, and the eldest member of BroZone was quick to hold up his end of the bargain.

“Of course I can,” JD replied with a too-bright smile, and before Floyd had a chance to read too far into it, he turned on the ball of his heel and padded past the messy floor– he’d wake up early to clean it up come the morning– towards the rocking chair that Grandma Rosiepuff would read stories to them from, sitting down and making sure Branch was settled securely in his arms. His eyelids felt as if they were being weighed down by lead, and his head felt heavier than a boulder, but despite his own exhaustion trying to drag him down into the depths with it, he persisted, determination to do right by his brothers guiding his voice into the soft, tranquil notes that his heart knew like the back of his hand.

“Wandering child of the earth, Do you know just how much you're worth? You have walked this path since your birth, You were destined for more…”

In an instant, Floyd’s sheepish demeanor melted away, his posture dissolving into something loose and relaxed as he allowed himself to settle against his mattress, wriggling his way under the covers and sinking into the pillow with a contented sigh.

“There are those who'll tell you you're wrong, They will try to silence your song, But right here is where you belong, So don't search anymore…”

Spruce didn’t move much even as the song started up, and for a moment, John Dory suspected that he had already fallen asleep, when the purple-haired troll proved him wrong by moving his head so he could watch the performance through heavily-lidded eyes, a pleased little smile curling his lip.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking, A masterpiece still in the making, The blue in an ocean of gray, You are right where you need to be, Poised to inspire and to succeed, You'll look back and you'll realize one day…”

Cradled securely in his older brother’s arms, Branch could only stare up at him in wide-eyed wonder for so long until sleep came to claim him, sticking his thumb into his mouth as his eyelids slid closed.

“In your eyes there is doubt, As you try to figure it out, But that's not what life is about, So have faith, there's a way. Though the world may try to define you, It can't take the light that's inside you, So don't you dare try to hide, Let your fears fade away…”

Out of the corner of his eye, John could see Clay peering at him drowsily over the edge of the top bunk, his head nodding off as he fought against the tempting pull of sleep in an effort to hear the rest of the song through. However, in the end, his body’s demands won out, and his head dropped heavily into his pillow. Still, JD carried on, something strangely cathartic about returning to a song long since left to collect dust.

Careful not to disturb Bitty B from his slumber, John Dory slowly rose up from the old rocking chair and inched lightly towards the crib, easing him down with a kiss pressed to his forehead for good measure.

Confident that all of his brothers were asleep by now, the teal-haired troll carried on to lay a kiss across the foreheads of each and every one of them, a ritual he never quite grew out of, even when the others themselves grew older. His heart warm and full for the first time in what must’ve been ages, JD flicked off the light and quietly crept up the ladder to his own bed, the final notes of the lullaby pouring out of him as he laid his weary body to rest, the scrapbook his brothers made for him carefully tucked away under the safety of his pillow.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking, A masterpiece still in the making, The blue in an ocean of gray, You are right where you need to be, Poised to inspire and to succeed, Soon you'll finally find your own way.”

Welcoming the darkness that greeted him from behind his eyelids, John Dory’s last thought before the shadowed veil of sleep wrapped around him flickered through his mind:

For as long as me and my brothers are together…we’re perfect.

(Song included is Wanderer's Lullaby by Adriana Figueroa)

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draco-after-dark · 3 months

Text

Rock zombie Feral

(I already made some art that will be posted soon but i needed to talk about this idea)

Okay so hear me out

Rock zombie Feral JD but it went wrong. all kinds of wrong.

So it seemed a big thing from the rock zombies is that when you've been zombie-fied the effects vary depending on the troll. I'm going to focusing more on Branch's case then the other troll leaders since he is JD's brother and is the closest rock example I'm ever going to get.

So what if JD was at one point or another turned into a Rock Zombie. Like an early test for the guitar but it went horribly wrong because

Feral JD was been without troll contact for 20+ years

The guitar was incomplete, missing a string or two

Barb got impatient and wanted to test it out (it did not go well)

What if i made the chunk out of Barbs ear JD's fault because he bite her in his rage (sorry Barb fans)

I'm thinking the events played out as along the Rock trolls tour across the continent they stumbled across John Dory when they had been passing through a forest. They new he wasn't a Rock troll. They weren't entirely sure what kind of troll he was, since he's grey and all and wasn't exactly singing or anything.

He just growl and hissed at them as he tried to escape but they cornered through him into one of those cages they have. It was not an easy feet a lot of the Trolls who had to wrangle him into it got bitten, scratched or both.

Once he's been contained it pretty self explanatory. Barb shows up with the guitar and blasts JD with the perfect rock harmony (forgot what is actually called).

Hell breaks lose in the cage and JD is slamming against the walls, the whole cage rattling and shaking at the impacts. the metal groaning in protest.

Barb remarks "He's a feisty one"

The main thing that sets him off is when they start playing loud rock music. JD having been in the quiet of the forest so long is shellshocked at the loudness and with his ears being quite sensitive so he feels nothing but agony.

JD was already pretty unstable at this point when around unknown things, so add unfamiliar trolls who chained you up and through you in a small cage. He is pissed to say the least. and in pain.

If you know Dragon ball he basically goes full Broly mode.

i imagine he starts to glow a bright red and with a loud screaming roar grabs the cage door and rips the whole things off the hinges and throws it at the nearest group of trolls.

Warning for the following writing below i do talk about death a bit and other things so be careful if that makes you uncomfortable

Upon his jailbreak he goes on a one man war mission and wreaks havoc on anything in his path. ANYTHING. Trolls included. The Rocks trolls do mange to escape with minimal casualties since JD is in a frenzy and is taking his rage out on anything.

He goes full Broly at this point.

When the Rock Trolls get away he sets his sights on anything that moves around him. Wandering aimlessly through the woods demolishing anything that breaths. big or small. a trail of destruction and death following him.

I imagine this goes on for a few days since they still have to collect the final few strings and then need to have the whole Rock concert.

After the guitar is destroyed JD is freed with the seemingly endless anger and rage that had been coursing through his body for days. Unable to calm down or think rationally.

He essentially wake ups after that. Finally being able to breath after everything. You can imagine he felt so out of control for so long he just sort of sits their. by himself curled up into a ball of fluff reflecting on everything that happened.

This is where the whole "I'm a monster" steams from. JD has a lot of guilt regarding the trolls he attacked in his blind rage. This event also contributes to him realizing how far he's fallen.

He knows that same ferocity has always been their, living inside him but he was always able to keep in under control. Keep his anger under control. No matter what.

It felt good to finally just let it out. Although unintentionally, part of him feel releive that he was finally able to get out all that pent up frustration.

It also terrified him. Remembering how much damage he caused, the lives he changed. what if it happened again and he hurt more trolls.

So this gives him even more reason to avoid other trolls until his capture by Veneer and then at his eventual reunion with his brothers.

Now all he thinks about is how terrified his brothers must be of him.

Also JD is famous among the rock trolls now by the name Crimson Death because of the whole glowing red thing and the whole mass destruction thing after those events.

The rock trolls are equal parts in aw of his ferocity and also terrified of it. Rock trolls always gave me unhinged vibes.

Still working on this idea so bare with me but if anyone got ideas about it send them my way.

#feral jd au #food for thought or in this case mayhem #Rock Feral JD my rage animal #feral john dory au

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bluehwale · 1 year

Note

okay so idk if you’re taking requests or not, BUT BUT BUT could u please write ateez as chb demigods (kind of like the jongho one), the scream i let out when i read demigod on the post was a bit embarrassing tbh

also hi new follower 👋 gonna go stalk ur masterlist/s don’t mind me :))

the rainbow thief | demigods! poly ateez au

02 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / prev / next

summary. eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you.

or alternatively,

your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 3.1k

genre. pure crack, angst if you squint real hard until ur eyes close, tons of fluff, literally the dumbest thing i've written help, basically idiots2lovers, ateez are chronic simps to the point where it's hard to watch, borderline unhinged behavior, they are also himbos!

warnings. alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), cursing, not proofread sorry </3

note. hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and i'm so sorry it took so long to be posted (almost d worded bc of my assignments) anyways, i kinda added a spin on this req by making it a poly fic, i hope you don't mind! thankyou so so much for being my first ever request<3 hv a great day!! ily ^3^ ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated pls i need to improve my writing

masterlist

San thinks this is definitely a level nine code red.

To give you an understanding of San’s Catastrophe Indicator, here’s some scale to context; a level eight would be Wooyoung somehow finding out his deepest darkest secret— that he still sleeps with his plushies every night; and a level ten would be getting zapped on the ass by his dad’s lightning bolt (and potentially having to stay in the infirmary for a week). So yes, a level nine is alarming, if not, exceptionally lethal.

It’s been exactly 53 minutes and 46 seconds since San has been watching you enthusiastically converse with an unfamiliar boy who’s sitting a little too close to you for his liking. His heart aches at the way you throw your head back as you let out your endearing giggles and how you teasingly shove his arm while the boy looks over to you with a grin, probably proud of a joke he told that made you laugh.

(It has also been 53 minutes and 46 seconds since the pink haired boy remains frozen behind a tree— the perfect hiding spot, he mused— all the while trembling like a leaf as he struggles to resist the temptation of flying in your direction curled up as a ball to hopefully cannonball the boy off the bench beside you.)

San huffs, he won’t let this be! It’s supposed to be the special day where he and the boys finally let you know about their feelings, and he would rather backflip off a cliff than let this undeniably handsome, seemingly perfect, flawlessly flirty guy who looks like he jumped out of a popular romance anime seduce you!

He falters, however, when he sees you stand up and grasp the boy’s hand to rise along with you.

The poor boy’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he sees you inch closer to the blue haired boy, a pretty smile evident on your face as he then wraps an arm around you, pulling you close while whispering something into your ear that makes you blush.

This can’t be happening!

San’s hands turn jittery as he unconsciously moves away from his hiding spot, needing to get closer to you, his best friend that he’s been hopelessly in love with for years, but he can feel his heart finally breaking when you excitedly pull the boy into a warm embrace.

Snap!

Your head looks up to see San pausing his steps after accidentally stepping on a tree branch with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. You innocently wave at him and San prays that the ground would swallow him whole.

He feels his hands grow clammy as he ungracefully dives behind a trash can to (unsuccessfully) hide himself from you and the unfamiliar boy walking together towards his direction. But of course, with the unmistaken pop of his pink hair, it’s hard not to notice him— especially for you.

“San!”

The demigod curses under his breath when he sees you in front of him and sheepishly stands up to meet your amused eyes. The blue-haired boy beside you stifles a laugh with an unconvincing cough and San thinks he hears the male mumble, “Oh, is this one of them—” before you elbow him on the stomach, cutting him off as he groans.

You pay no attention to the boy beside you as he doubles over in pain to clutch his gut, you turn to brightly grin at your best friend instead. “Meet Yeonjun! He just got here yesterday and, oh, he’s an Aphrodite kid! I think you both would get along pretty well.”

San feels his eye twitch. He tunes out your voice that rings throughout the air as you introduce him to your new friend.

A son of Aphrodite. Your new friend.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty and love.

His heart sinks into his stomach.

This might be even worse than a code red level nine.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✺◟( • ω • )◞✺

“There better be a good reason for San to drag me here in the middle of drafting up my Capture the Flag strategy plans.” Seonghwa, the brain and only hope of the group, crosses his arms and tsks.

The state of an emergency calls San and Mingi (an Aphrodite kid and the first San ran to for consultation) to round up everyone in the infirmary, an unfitting spot to hold their “emergency meeting” but the two boys couldn’t wait for Yunho’s healer shift to end. Mingi taps his feet anxiously when it looks like San’s unwillingness to speak due to his sullen mood means that he will have to be the one to break the news.

Ever the poster child of rationality, he slowly starts, “We think… _____ might be interested in someone.”

“You mean some people,” Wooyoung cackles, sipping his wine from an ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug as he gestures to his best friends sitting around in a circle. “There’s nothing to worry about, everyone in camp told me she’s 100% gonna accept our confession. They even think we’re all already dating.” The boy proudly smiles, taking another sip of his wine as his stomach flutters at the thought of you.

“She’s in love with an Aphrodite kid,” San blurts out.

Splatters of red wine burst out of Wooyoung’s mouth when San’s words finally registers in his mind, leaving him to stammer and gape wordlessly as chaos ensues with the rest of the boys.

“What are you talking about?!” gasped Seonghwa, any previous thought of his strategy plans immediately forgotten.

“But— but we were supposed to tell her today!” Yunho, ever in tune with his emotions, wails while his hands slap his face to cover his already leaking eyes. “What are we gonna do with the humongous bouquet I requested the Demeter kids to make last night?!” He reaches out a shaky finger to point at the flower bouquet and an equally large teddy bear taking up a whole corner of the infirmary.

Amidst the commotion, Mingi locks his arms around Yeosang who seems to have resigned from his body completely and looks like he’d willingly give himself up as lunch for any nearby sea monster. “Guys, calm down, maybe this is all just a misunderstanding—”

“An Aphrodite kid, you say?” interrupted Jongho, already rolling up his sleeves to relieve his bulging biceps from ripping his shirt apart. “What’s this guy’s name and what does he look like?”

“Jongho, you’re not killing anyone—”

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, eerily calm besides the smoke fuming from his nostrils and his eyes that glint devilishly. “Instead of killing him, making him suffer throughout his afterlife sounds much better, I’ll make sure my dad takes note of him.”

“That’s not what I meant!” interjects Mingi who, still grasping a Yeosang who’s ready to jump up and dash off into the ocean, shoots a desperate look begging for help to the eldest.

“Maybe he’s trying to seduce her into a pyramid scheme?” Seonghwa supplies weakly, brain racking to find any other reason to support the idea that maybe you’re merely close with this person as friends and not because you’re in love with him.

“And why the fuck would he do that?”

“We demigods aren’t immune to capitalism.”

“It’s hopeless,” counters San, shutting everyone else up. They look over to him with furrowed brows and trembling lips, one that matches his own. “You weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. She looked so happy.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✺◟( • ω • )◞✺

The eight sulky boys toddle around mopily as they pick apart the romance-themed decorations littered around the hidden area you all claimed as your group’s private hangout place. They can’t help but feel dejected over the fact that you— their best friend who they’ve been in love with for years, like someone else.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.”

Speak of the devil.

Their heads snap to find you walking on the path of rose petals they prepared earlier today, dressed in a baby blue mini dress you reserve only for special occasions instead of your usual get up of the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. An easy smile rests on your face as you greet your best friends and they can’t help but feel their hearts grow heavier at the sight (except for Yeosang who is too busy panicking over you possibly noticing the ‘We Love You _____!’ banner that is still on display).

“______, what are you doing here?” The glint in your eyes visibly falters at Seonghwa’s question, your excitement twisting into unbridled nerves that settles uncomfortably in your gut when you notice everyone staring at you as if you shouldn’t be here.

Word spreads crazy fast in camp and it didn’t take long for you to overhear about the surprise the boys had planned for you. Although it unsettles you that the boys might be upset at their spoiled attempt of surprising you, you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of them liking you back after all these years of you believing that your feelings went unreciprocated.

So imagine your confusion when none of your best friends showed up to lead you to your surprise and that, after happily skipping all the way here, you find them hostile in your presence.

“Uh,” you trail off, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails as you try to gauge their reactions. “It’s just… I didn’t see any of you today except for San. I missed you guys.”

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say as the boys, to your confusion, suddenly broke in tears.

“You can’t say things like that!” Yeosang hiccups, bringing a hand to his face to wipe the steady stream of tears falling from his eyes and earning broken mutters of agreement from the other boys.

"Wha—What?" you stammer, surprised at their reactions. What’s going on?

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know we can’t have you.”

“What do you mean? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re in love with someone else!”

You pause. “Huh?” Any trace of your previous nervousness vanished, instead replaced with rejoicement at the thought of them being jealous over you with someone else. You restrain the urge to giggle.

“It’s okay, ____. We understand,” sniffles Seonghwa, clamping his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth who was clinging onto his arm while yelling: ‘NO, WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND!’ It took awhile for the eldest to eventually tackle the younger to the ground, suppressing him by placing his weight over him while Wooyoung continues to let out muffled yelps as he struggles. Seonghwa turns to you and offers a weak smile, the usual shine in his eyes nowhere to be seen. “We’re happy for you.”

You try to contain your amusement. “You are?”

“We are,” Yunho nods, hastily wiping away his own tears to hold both of your hands in his (you can distinctly hear Wooyoung’s muffled scream of ‘WE’RE NOT!’ in the background). “We’ll always be here for you. We’ll always be your best friends.”

“That’s gonna be a problem, though,” you chide lightly, feeling the smile you’ve been trying to mask creep up to your face. “I want you to be more than just best friends.”

It took a couple seconds for the sulky boys to register what you said and when they did, you’d think they’d won the lottery or something (you’re pretty sure Jongho leaped three feet up in the air).

“But what about that Aphrodite kid?”

You turn to Hongjoong in confusion. “What Aphrodite kid?”

Everyone turns to accusingly look at a certain pink haired boy.

San gulps. “Yeonjun,” he mutters. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“...Yeonjun?” you burst into laughter, uncontrollable giggles escaping you from how ridiculous this is. “We’re just friends and he has a boyfriend. I was even talking about you guys all day to him!”

“Y—you were?” San stutters, already feeling the pointed glares burning on his back. “I—I thought you liked him…”

“I don’t,” you reassure them with a smile. “How could I when I’m in love with you guys?”

Mingi lets out a relieved scream, enveloping you in a tight hug to bury his face in your hair and inhale his favorite scent— the sweet smell of coconuts; you. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. We’ve been in love with you too.”

You take a peek from Mingi’s embrace to see the other boys celebrating; Wooyoung’s already chugging down a freshly opened bottle of wine while the rest of the boys are simultaneously doing tiny hops in a group hug and letting out excited yelps. Your cheeks ache from grinning too hard at how cute your boys are.

“_____! We need to go to the infirmary, we prepared something for you!” Yunho excitedly pulls at your arm, just remembering the bouquet and teddy bear for you, separating you from the blonde giant who’s now sporting a pout at you leaving him.

You and Yunho both merrily skip your way to the infirmary with your hands intertwined and pink dusting your cheeks, unknowingly leaving a pink haired boy to meet his doom.

“Aha, who would’ve thought that she’s not actually in love with another guy?” San forced out a nervous chuckle, slowly backing up from his best friends and wishing he could disappear just about right now. “No hard feelings right? Everyone makes mistakes—”

“Shut up. Come here.”

Not too long after, a loud scream rings throughout the camp.

(“That sounds so much like San, don’t you think?” you worriedly ask the boy beside you who’s dwarfed behind the huge teddy bear he’s helping you carry to the Iris Cabin.

“Nah, that’s not San.” Yunho calmly shrugs, his smirk hidden behind the gigantic bear plushie as he thinks of his own revenge against the culprit for his whirlwind of emotions he went through earlier today.)

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✺◟( • ω • )◞✺

INTERLOGUE

BEFORE THE EMERGENCY MEET UP IN THE INFIRMARY…

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” The blonde boy in question looks up to see San barging into his room, looking as if he ran a marathon to Aphrodite’s cabin (which is exactly what he did). “How did you even get inside?”

San ignores his question. “You have a new brother?”

“Oh, Yeonjun?” Mingi nonchalantly asks, missing the way San’s figure goes rigid at his name as he returns to applying black polish on his nails. “Yeah, he just got here yesterday. Cool guy. What’s up?”

“I think _____’s in love with him.”

“What?!”

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bysaber · 5 months

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Picking the perfect tree ft. Obito Uchiha

Day 02 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — obito uchiha, an exiled war criminal, doesn’t understand why you’re so obsessed with a tree.

word count — 807

content — fluff, post-war!obito (he survived because I wanted him to), he’s a sad boi, longing, friends to lovers kinda

notes — hai! second fic of many I hope ^_^ obito is my fav boy and this isn’t the only fic I’ll write for him in this event even though I know not many people simp for him. on a second note, I’m really hoping I can write all the 31 days. send me good luck! <3

“I don’t see the point.”

Obito stood by your side with crossed arms, his puzzled eyes watching you cautiously as you analyzed a pine tree as if it were the most important and interesting thing in the world.

Maybe it was, but he didn’t get it.

“Nah, this one is not good enough,” you stated, at last.

He sighed, more lost than ever, not complaining when your gloved hand closed around his wrist and dragged him further into the forest.

“They all look the same to me,” he observed. “Sure, some are smaller and have fewer branches, but they’re just… trees?”

Your giggle didn’t go unnoticed by him and, as usual, it warmed his body in that unfamiliar way, his stomach fluttering from this all-new sensation.

No, not new.

Obito knew exactly what feeling was that; something he felt when he was just a foolish kid, the feeling that made him try harder to impress someone, that got him all messy and blushy and kissing portraits.

The feeling that created longing and, eventually, created hate.

Looking back, what was Obito doing if not trying desperately not to forget what it was like to feel like that? Starting a war to feel it again, even if it weren’t real.

Countless mistakes in the name of love, and Obito just accepted he wasn’t deserving of such a thing – love.

And yet, you stood there in front of him. Picking a damn tree for whatever reason, and making him feel all over again.

After being forgiven but exiled to a distant village, there you were. You knew his crimes and yet you showed up at his door every day, convincing him to take a walk with you until you became friends.

And today you showed up smiling like always, “Hey, let’s buy a tree for your house.”

And there you were.

“I liked the way you described the trees, so I’ll trust your eyes,” you said after a while, apparently conflicted. “I don’t know if we should pick this one or that one, which one is taller and has more branches?”

He wanted to laugh at you and your silliness, but eventually gave up, “That one.”

You smiled widely at him and, even though he wanted to scream at you to stop making him feel like that, he smiled shyly back at you.

Quickly talking to the couple who ran the tree business, you paid them while Obito seemed lost in thoughts and you brought the tree home with the help of some ninjas that worked there.

When the tree was installed in a corner of his living room and the two of you were left alone again, he blinked slowly with a blank expression, “I still don’t get it. Why do I need a tree inside my house?”

He was so clueless it was cute and you couldn’t help but laugh, flustering him further, “You’re such a dork, Obito! Let me finish this, ok?”

With red hot cheeks, he hummed in agreement as you placed your backpack on the table and started pulling out a lot of weird things.

Weird, but beautiful things.

He eyed you curiously as you circled the tree with some sort of wire he couldn’t distinguish, wondering what that was for, and then you started putting beautiful decorations on the branches. It didn’t take long for the tree to come to life, bringing some sort of comfort to his dead house.

“Can you help me?” you asked after a while and he nodded, standing up as you handed him a star. “Put it on the top of the tree, please. I can’t reach it.”

He did exactly as he was told – he still didn’t understand what it was for but it was incredibly beautiful and, foremost, done by you.

When the star was placed he looked at you, then at the tree, and back at you, “It looks–”

“Wait! There’s still one thing for you to see before you say anything,” you interrupt him as you run to plug in the tree lights.

When you finally did and the tree lightened up, Obito got taken aback by the beauty of it all. All the colors and decorations came together, lighting up his living room and warming his heart. Something you did for him.

“Here in the village, we celebrate something called Christmas, a time to be reunited with people we love and celebrate. This is a Christmas tree, but there’s so much more I can show you,” you finally explain. “And I was hoping we could celebrate Christmas together.”

Obito looked down, tears burning his eyes without a warning. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve said tendering his soul like a remedy on every open wound he had.

It felt like he’d found the love he had reached for, for so long.

“Yes… yes, we can.”

#s23ficmas #wbysaber #obito uchiha x reader #uchiha obito x reader #obito x reader #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #naruto #fluff #x reader #fanfic

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beabnormal24 · 3 months

Text

I couldn’t resist it, I need your opinion on this little snippet from Chapter one of my new Charlos fic, which will come out as soon as possible.

Let me know what you think!

Chapter I

The apartment is quiet when they finally make it through the threshold, Charles’ icy joints creaking painfully once the comfortable warmth of the thermostat slips under the hems of his coat.

The lights are on, though, he notices when Pierre shoulders past him, grumpily stomping towards the bathroom.

Yuki is sitting in the farthest corner of the couch, headphones on and eyes wide open staring at the screen of his computer where there’s a purple coding line looking right back at him. Charles would bet money that he hasn’t blinked in at least ten minutes.

But Yuki is not the only person in the room, weirdly. The kitchen’s light is on as well, yellow neons casting mellow orange shadows on the living room’s pavement, reaching his toes where he’s finally slipped his shoes off.

Charles raises his head, confused for only a single second about the fourth unfamiliar figure sitting at their table.

“Oh, hi Carlos.”

Carlos blinks up at him slowly, the end of a blue ballpoint pen trapped between his teeth as he becomes aware of Charles standing not too far away from him, still leaning against the door as he takes his coat off.

His eyes are half lidded from what Charles can assume must be tiredness, if the rich collection of textbooks and notes scattered all over the table’s surface is enough of an answer, but he still smiles big and bright at him, like Charles has just brought him the greatest news ever.

“Hi, Charles!” He says back. The pen falls from his lips, hitting the open notebook between his arms, but he doesn’t seem to care a bit. Sharls, he’ll never get his name quite right, sometimes it’s an even worse pronunciation than Yuki’s one. But it’s also endearing, a bit. “How are you? Did you have a good night out? Had fun?”

Charles cringes at the thought of the recent events, stomach twisting with the residues of an – allegedly – good lasagna that he had had to pay for on his own after refusing yet another proposal of a one-night stand. He almost has half a mind to snap and scream a bit, let it all out, throw punches at the ceiling or perhaps tug at the ends of his hair that has grown longer over time - which would also be a bitter reminder of how many months have passed since he has been able to visit back home and get a good haircut from his mom’s neat fingers.

His patience is hanging on to a branch that’s barely holding out to the tree of his self-control, and the cocktail of anxiety from the nearing midterm projects, the pencils he should’ve bought yesterday instead of staring at his notes for two hours longer than he had planned and the unfortunate encounters that never seem to fail him lately, the whole deal about professors never being clear with their requests, is almost enough for him to ignore Carlos’ question altogether and follow Pierre’s stomping to the bathroom.

But dipping his cold hands under a hot stream of water wouldn’t be that good for his articulations. Besides, Carlos’ curiosity is genuine, much like always snd Charles doesn’t like to be a dick with people who don’t deserve it, which usually doesn’t include Pierre.

“Eh, alright, could’ve been better.” He shrugs indifferently, the half admission slipping effortlessly out of his mouth.

Yuki doesn’t react to that, but the roll of his impossibly dry eyes doesn’t exactly go unnoticed.

A frown appears in the crease between Carlos’ eyebrows, probably sensing the thick sarcasm that threatens to flow from below his tongue, but Charles is quick to talk over him before he can add anything else. “Studying with Pierre?” He asks, reaching with a hand behind his neck to finally untie his scarf.

The question couldn’t be more stupid, for sure, and Yuki lets him know with another silent roll of his eyes. It’s not unusual for Carlos to be sitting at their kitchen table, more so ever since he and Pierre have found out about their mutual interest in anything sports related, apart from their shared classes.

Charles doesn’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a fierce Real’s fan, that he’s from Spain and that he moved to London for his Master degree after graduating in Economics-something-finance not more than a year ago, that he shouts too many curses in his mother language in front of the TV when some player misses a score – not that different from Pierre, on this aspect -, and that he’s some kind of a family friend of Lando and comes from money, as well.

Which doesn’t explain why he would prefer to spend time at their little apartment, where Yuki’s socks are still left unattended on the coffee table after three days and Charles’ sketches cover more than half of the windowsill and Pierre always forgets to turn the bathroom’s lights off. But Charles surely won’t be the one to complain about it when Carlos offers his cooking skills in exchange for their hospitality.

Yuki complains even less, for sure, being the one who mostly makes sure they’ll be having something at least edible for dinner. Whenever Carlos comes to their apartment, he likes to say that he’s finally off chef duty.

“Yes, Charles, we were studying.” Pierre’s tone is acidic, dripping with the bitterness of it when he comes back to the kitchen. As if on cue, the colder white light of the bathroom follows the back of his head like strobe light beams, hitting him square in the shoulders and the ruffled hair, strands pulled out by stressed fingers.

Charles would feel a bit bad about interrupting their studying session if he weren’t too distracted by the thought that they should really agree on a single color for lights in their home.

“Until someone decided to deem me as their personal taxi driver, no? ‘Cause they don’t seem to care at all about going out without making sure that they can come fucking back.”

“Pierre,” Charles hisses under his breath. From the corner of his eye, he can see Yuki pressing insistently on a button on his headphones. Something tells him it must be the volume. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, Charlie dear, I won’t shut up. I’ve told you that I had to study and yet-“

“Yes, I know! But I already apologized, what more do you want me to do?” He doesn’t know what language they’re yelling right now, a part of him really hopes it may be French, even though he knows Yuki will have a lot to complain about their ‘Speak English in common spaces’ rule. But there’s still another person in the kitchen with them, one that is currently looking from one side to the other, head bobbing towards who’s speaking like in a tennis match.

It’s not like he is embarrassed or anything, to be clear, but Pierre can get pretty nasty when he’s angry and stressed about exams, and Charles would rather not have Carlos as a spectator to that.

“I don’t know, maybe grow the fuck up? Stop going out and shit with people who clearly do not have the same intentions as you?”

Charles clenches his fists on either side of his hip. He can feel his nostrils starting to flare as he glares right back at Pierre, like they’re fourteen again and Pierre is telling him to drop the controller and stop acting like a crybaby.

It won’t last long, he knows, Charles is too attached to him to let stupid things like this get between them, and Pierre is too attached to him to not regret the words he spits out.

But right now, it’s an open battlefield.

“Don’t you dare tell me to grow the fuck up! You learn to shut off the freaking bathroom lights, then, and do your own laundry!”

Pierre twists his mouth to the side, blue eyes widening in fake surprise. “Oh, is that so now? Then why don’t you learn how to not burn everything you put on a stove? And maybe also get your driving license once and for all!”

Charles inhales sharply, letting out an outraged squeal that he would be probably feel abashed about if he weren’t busy with finding the right words to snap back at him. The driving license bit is a low blow even for Pierre.

It’s not even like he can do anything about it, when he lives abroad and there’s no way of him to get a car in London without leaving his mom and Arthur empty handed back home. Pierre is the only one with a car, because he has a shit ton of older brothers, differently from him.

But that’s not Charles fault.

“You prick!” He shouts back. “You know I can’t do that, and I can’t afford a fucking car!”

“Then you should learn how to drive mine, non? Instead of-“

“Guys.” Their heads snap around with matching confused frowns over their faces, the sound of that voice coming from an unfamiliar source. Even Yuki widens his eyes, going as far as raising his head up and away from the computer screen to stare at Carlos.

Carlos who had just interrupted their quarrel. Not even Max I-don’t-give-a-fuck Verstappen had tried to put himself in the middle of them that time they had started arguing about fries inside the burger or next to the burger.

Charles has to blink a few times to realize that it is Carlos, indeed. He must be much braver than he would’ve guessed.

“There’s no need to fight.” Carlos says, raising his hands up when Pierre narrows his eyes at him, probably ready to tell him off and unkindly inviting him to shut up. Ok, so they must’ve been speaking English, unless Carlos has started learning French all of a sudden. “I have a car, too, you know. It’s not like- a Ferrari or anything.”

Charles snorts. “Don’t worry, Pierre’s car is a piece of crap.”

“Charles, I swear-“

“Anyway.” Carlos starts again, raising an eyebrow. It’s almost a wonder how effective it is to make Pierre shut his mouth. Charles must learn from his tricks. “It’s a more than loved Golf, and if Pierre is too busy or anything, you can call me, and I’ll be more than glad to take it for a ride. I’m always at home anyway, or at the gym, so…”

The words take perhaps too much time for Charles to register them, because he’s still blinking astonished at Carlos while Pierre has already started shaking his head vehemently, Yuki’s eyes growing even wider.

“Absolutely not! He has to take his own responsibilities, Carlos. You can’t indulge him.”

“It’s not indulging, I just want to help.” Carlos protests, batting Pierre’s hands away when he tries to tap the pen on his head. “Stop it, cabrón.”

“And you stop with this-“

“Don’t you- don’t say that! I’m just being kind.”

“We all know why you’re trying to help.”

“Don’t say that!”

Pierre seems to finally relent just as Charles’ mind starts to process through whatever is happening. Pierre’s hands fall to his sides with a huff of frustration. “Alright” he exhales. “It’s your own problem to deal with, Carlos.” He says with finality, shoving Carlos’ pen in his pocket before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, where Charles can recognize notes covered in Pierre’s poor excuse of messy scribbles.

Well then, no room for further discussion when Pierre decides that it’s time for him to go back to studying. Charles couldn’t agree more, after all, the tiredness in his bones creeping up on him as he lets the harsh façade fall to the ground.

Pierre will be up and making him too sweet tea in the morning for breakfast to apologize, anyway. These things never last more than a night of sleep.

“Thank you very much, Carlos.” He finally manages to say, wrestling the pen out of Pierre’s pocket to give it back to him.

Carlos offers him the same big and bright smile as before, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he looks up at Charles from his seating position, leaning his chin on his hand. “No need to thank me. I am at your disposal as long as you’ll let me borrow your almonds.” He says, pointing with a thumb towards the open can in the middle of the table, leaning precariously against a calculator and a crumpled-up note.

“Yes, of course. I’ll buy you as many as you want.” He assures, taking a handful of them before popping one into his mouth. “Yuki?” Yuki opens his mouth at the sound of his own name, giving Charles two thumbs up when he manages to throw one exactly on top of his tongue.

“Impressive.” Carlos mumbles under his breath.

Pierre rolls his eyes to the ceiling, purposefully blocking the right side of his face with a hand to pretend being completely uninterested with whatever is happening around him.

“I’m going to shower, now.” Charles says, already walking down the corridor. “See, Pierre, you should learn a thing or two from Carlos about being a good friend.” He adds, throwing an almond at him. It lands between his eyebrows, sliding on the bridge of his nose before falling right on top of the open textbook under his eyes.

Pierre’s curses and Carlos’ laughter get muffled behind the closed door of the bathroom.

#carlos sainz #charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #f1 2023 #charlos #my fic #hihi sorry #ao3 fanfic

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