#the end of that long root is fucked up cause i stepped on it 3 times and also hit it with the vacuum once...
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today I am reporting this poor abused monstera and giving it a real moss pole so it will be well supported and hopefully stop trying to take over my house with aerial roots. also I'm giving it a second light so its leaves won't have to bunch up under the one. it's gotten so fucking big that I feel like it's one new leaf away from the current support and light situation becoming unsuatainable.
here's what it looked like when I first bought it btw. it's come a long way...
#i have been real worried about the cats biting its roots but luckily they havent been interested#marnie bit one once but it was because she wanted food and i accidentally taught her that biting random objects gets my attention#the end of that long root is fucked up cause i stepped on it 3 times and also hit it with the vacuum once...#also man im so bummed it lost so many leaves when i got sick it would look so much more majestic if i had been able to take care of it :(
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summary: in which jungkook won’t tell you what’s wrong and you get emotional motion sickness.
> angst, fluff / wc: 2.6k
> warnings: poor oc is hungry but gets nauseous from watching jk play mirror’s edge, one (1) ass slap, tearsss but i just love this couple very much T_T
note: my last post for the year, a humble gift from my heart <3 i hope you carry even a tiny piece of it with you to 2023 and always remember to treat yourself with the same kindness you give to your loved ones <3 i love you all :]
—
you muffle a groan, burying your face into the pillow underneath your head. jungkook switched between five games in two hours, and it seems that he ended up settling with mirror’s edge because he’s been playing it for almost an hour already.
you can confirm that your boyfriend is stronger than you in many different aspects, because you genuinely don’t understand how he’s not getting motion sickness from playing this game while you, the lone audience, has been battling with it the entire time. but most of all, because it looks like he can hold out on you for a long time, and even if your life depended on it, you can’t do the same to him.
you turn your head just enough to take a peek. his back is facing you from the foot of the bed. it’s been your view since you arrived in his room, along with the 50-inch television infront of him. you argued that he’s sitting too close to the screen again, but he only brushed you off with a quick it’s just for today, and he hasn’t spoken a word to you since.
not being able to physically meet for periods of time is normal in your relationship, but the less frequent communication from your boyfriend for the past two weeks has been concerning you. you don’t like it. you don’t like the shorter phone calls, and the fewer to no text messages. you don’t like his avoidant eyes, his dismissive words, and when he dismisses you altogether. you don’t like the gnawing feeling of something is wrong and i need to fix this when you’re completely clueless, lying on his cold bed by yourself.
when you catch him taking a break to drink water, you seize the opportunity to snatch away his controller. your knees sink on the mattress, and you slightly lose balance as you fall back on your bottom.
he reacts quickly, trapping you in between his arms to steal it from behind your back, but the rough complaint melts on his tongue when your eyes properly meet for the first time in what feels like forever.
“are you mad at me? did i do something wrong?”
jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach, his facial features softening at the sight of your glassy eyes begging for answers. despite this, you still can’t get a good grasp on what’s running in his mind. and it’s killing you.
“no, why would i be mad at you?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking.” you answer frustratedly, gripping the controller in your hand tighter. “we haven’t seen each other in weeks and you’ve been acting like i don’t exist since i came here. it’s already dinnertime and i’m hungry and upset and i- i fucking miss you.”
you chase his eyes as you speak but he takes a step back to recreate distance between the two of you.
“it’s not like that. i’ve just been distracted with playing.”
a scoff of hurt and disbelief escapes your mouth, his words and actions only adding salt to your unattended wounds. “are you being serious right now? do you even want me here?”
when jungkook realizes the stupidity of the excuse he came up with, it’s already too late. he’s just been jumping from game to game, running around aimlessly, avoiding the root of your present argument like a fool. the foreign expression of hurt on your face sends him scrambling to fix what the damage he caused.
“of course- of course, i do. that’s why i agreed that you should visit. because i miss you too.”
his desperate hold on your arms gets shrugged off when the controller lands on his lap, with you muttering, “well, it doesn’t feel like it.”
“baby-”
“it’s okay. go play your games. just wake me up when you’re ready to have a real conversation with me, okay?”
you crawl back to your side of the bed, tucking the blanket up to your shoulders and burying your face in the soft cotton. it does its job in encaging you in your own little bubble, but the smell of cozy baby powder snaps the thread of resolve you’ve been recklessly balancing on. tears drip from your eyes and stain the grey blanket shades darker. and you silently pray he would just continue playing his damn game already so crying would feel less suffocating.
“but you said you’re hungry, baby. let me make you something.” he coos, his big palm stroking your calf lovingly to coax you.
oh, so now he wants to be sweet and attentive?
“does that mean you’re ready to talk?”
and you’re met by the silence that you’ve come to recognize all too well.
“then nevermind. i already lost my appetite anyway.”
“okay,” he responds after a few beats, his lips replacing his palm on your naked calf for a chaste, feather-light kiss. and you want to scream because the intimacy of it all only makes the yearning for his love, his attention, and god, his presence, swallow you whole.
it’s difficult to have a fight when you’re the only one fighting.
you take the opportunity to wipe away your tears and sniffle as quietly as possible when the loud footsteps and grunts of his character fill the room again. but you couldn’t bear to watch another second of the game. you quickly pull back the blanket over your eyes, the nausea creeping its way back into your system and rendering you imprisoned underneath the covers. soon enough, you slip into a slumber.
jungkook exits the game after fifteen minutes. after that small altercation, he just couldn’t get into it anymore. the little butterfly sticker you put in the middle of the controller made it impossible for his mind to focus on anything else but patching things up with you. you designed the controller because it’s the one you always use when you play together, claims it’s the luckier one, and these days he finds himself instinctively reaching for it when he plays alone.
you’ve been leaving these pieces of you all over his life. you already told him that you’re in this for the long run. what is he so afraid of?
“baby, are you really asleep?” he whispers with his elbow anchored on the bed and the heel of his palm supporting his head. after gaining no response, he carefully lifts off the blanket from your face.
his lips curve into a frown as he traces your puffy eye with the pad of his thumb. making you cry is exactly what he’s been wanting to avoid, but it seems that this served as a lesson on what not to do instead. he created another problem in the process of concealing existing problems, and he hates himself for not considering your feelings firsthand.
he kisses your forehead, creating a light smacking noise as he does so, before whispering once more. “would you get angrier if i don’t wake you up? i feel bad about disturbing your sleep.”
“i would.” your eyelids slowly flutter open, droopy eyes staring directly at his wide, doe ones. “now, care to tell me why you’ve been ghosting me?”
it’s only been over a month since you said i love you for the first time, and the paranoia of what if he realized that he doesn’t want this relationship anymore will continue to keep you up at night unless you confront him about it today. as much as his answer scares the shit out of you.
“i messed up. i’m sorry. that wasn’t my intention.”
jungkook sighs heavily, sitting up on the bed and resting his back on the headboard to gather himself together. you’re always straightforward— you’re not afraid to ask for what you want. he knows he already said it before, but ultimately, this was the reason why he gravitated towards you. you’re a breath of fresh air. but on the other hand, he’s used to putting his best foot forward. it’s always about what they would be pleased to see, because if he shows them something they don’t like, he would get eaten alive. that’s just how he makes a living and how he keeps his passions within reach.
“then what were you trying to do, jungkook?”
but now that you’re sitting by his side, the anxiety he’s been fostering in his mind is starting to look ridiculous. how could this lovely human being wrapped in a blanket, adorably scowling at him, ever eat him alive? if anything, you would share the blanket with him and build a fire to keep him warm.
“things at work are just- they’re really a mess right now. it’s always been like that but it’s a different type of overwhelming and i’m scared because . . .” he pauses when he feels his voice faltering due to his emotions crashing like tidal waves along the rocky shore. he may not be able to look at your eyes right now but instead, he holds on to your hand resting on his thigh.
“what if we’re flying too high too fast because we’re being set up to crash? i didn’t- no, it’s just . . . if i talked to you in the past two weeks, i would’ve just complained about how i’m having a hard time over and over again and i would cry, or worse, make you cry.”
“yah! what’s wrong with complaining and crying?” you scold him in a whiny tone, wiping his tears away with the back of your hand while your own freely stream down your face. “you’re a human being above everything else. you have the right to feel your feelings. if you don’t, they will pile up and the weight of it will break you.”
jungkook’s head falls on your shoulder. he sobs softly as his tears soak through the material of your shirt, and the scene breaks your heart so painfully that it’s difficult to breathe. your fingers comb through his hair tenderly, and your hand pulls away from his to wipe off the tears on his chin.
“don’t treat me like a stranger. please. i love you. i know i won’t fully understand everything you’re going through because we lead different lives, but we can still share the weight of it, and we can cry it out together. won’t you let me do that? won’t that make you feel even a little better?”
when he lifts up his head, you’re surprised to see a small smile playing on his lips. you blink at him blankly in confusion.
“you’re not pranking me right now, are you?”
“no! why would you think tha-”
“if you want to break up, just tell me directly like a real man would!”
he panics. “no, no, no!” he catches your furious fists pounding at his torso, holding them securely to his chest to calm you down. “baby! listen- that’s the last thing i want!”
you cease your attack, chest heaving as you wait for him to explain himself. alright, you may not eat him alive but you sure can fight him.
“it’s just funny because i remembered that the hyungs said i should talk to you because you’re the only person i listen to.”
you look at him suspiciously, giving up your futile attempts on escaping from his firm hold. “well, were they right?”
“they were. they tried talking to me too, but i couldn’t shake off the fear of breaking down infront of you.” his grip on your wrists loosens. he peppers your knuckles with kisses before releasing you altogether. “turns out that’s exactly what i needed. my heart feels so much lighter. thank you.”
you climb on his lap quietly, hanging on to him like a koala bear, with your limbs wrapped around his waist and neck. you’ve been dying to embrace him again since the moment you watched him drive away from your apartment more than two weeks ago. you regret that you didn’t stay in his arms for at least ten seconds longer despite knowing that he wouldn’t have the time to meet up with you again in the near future.
“are you crying again?“ he asks worriedly after hearing you sniffle.
“i really thought you were trying to break up with me. i had no idea what i did.”
“i’m sorry. i’m sorry-” your cheek is granted with an apologectic kiss. “it was an asshole move.” and then your temple. “i wasn’t thinking straight. i’m sorry, baby. i promise all my free time is yours again.”
he gives a final kiss on the top of your head before resting his cheek on it, rubbing your back with gentleness. he blinks them away when tears also start filling his eyes again, but he only made it easier for them to fall.
“lean on me. use me. i want to be there when you need me the most, okay?” you pat his cheek softly, connecting your lips with his but it doesn’t even last for five seconds because-
“i can’t even make out with my boyfriend in peace.” you grit your teeth in irritation as you tug your bag closer by its straps. you lazily dish out your ringing phone from the pocket. after seeing who the caller is, you opt with setting your ringer in silent to let the call remain unanswered.
it’s the group leader in one of your on-going school projects, and you’re 100% sure he’s going to beg you to do another groupmate’s share of work because he’s not satisfied with them again. unfortunately, you’re not in the mood to be compassionate today.
“my love?”
“hmmm?” you hum absentmindedly as you scroll through the notifications from the group chat.
“why is my shampoo in your bag?”
“oh-” you smile hesitantly as scrunch your nose, eyes landing on the two bottles of shampoo nestled in the corner of your unzipped bag. “please forgive me. i wasn’t thinking straight either.”
“that doesn’t really explain anything.” he rolls his eyes jokingly.
“well- uhm- when i went to pee earlier, i thought there was a big chance i would walk out of your house broken up with you. then i remembered that you went to like ten stores to look for that shampoo when you ran out ‘cause it’s the best one you tried when you had bleached hair . . .”
the smile on his face gradually fades as the realization dawns on him.
“and you also told me that the production already got discontinued-“
“so if we broke up and you were angry at me, you would’ve stolen my shampoo?!” he exclaims, flabbergasted by your simple yet deliberate plan on delivering revenge. “how is that not thinking straight-”
“but for the record, i realized that i would feel guilty since you bleach your hair a lot so i wasn’t going to go through with it!” you abruptly defend yourself, taking out the bottles of shampoo and handing them over to him to strengthen your claims.
he tosses them aside to hold your waist, chuckling in amusement when you cutely pout at him. that’s what you always do when you try to get away with something. oh my god, he missed your face so much.
“why? if i was really planning to ghost you into a breakup then i would’ve deserved worse.”
“but you won’t do that to me.”
“mhm-mm. never.”
“and from now on you’re going to complain and cry to me when you’re struggling.”
he eagerly nods in agreement. “i promise. i love you.”
“i love you.” you give him a kiss on the lips before climbing off his lap to reach for the controller he left on the edge of the bed. “now i want to play fifa.”
he playfully slaps your ass, which doesn’t elicit a reaction from you because honestly, you expected nothing less.
“sure, but shouldn’t we eat first? it’s almost 7pm.”
you groan internally when the thought of food, and your boyfriend’s exquisite cooking at that, remains unappetizing. “you can eat first, babe. watching you play mirror’s edge really made me feel sick.”
—
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook one shot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut
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Hi I just found out about ur page I love it so much! Could I request a smut oneshot with sub!timothee chalamet and dom!fem reader, basically the first time Timmy realizes he likes to be on the sub side more, there's a lot of flirting from both ends and 🐱 eating with him on his knees or in another positing(idrc), choking and prompts 1, 6, 7,16, 18 from the smut section mixed in there. I tried to make this as detailed as possible as to help you, there is absolutely no problem if you can't/don't want to do it, I understand; sending love<3333
Dirty
GIF by mserdbeeri
masterlist
gif doesn't suit the fic well, i just thought he looked good in it 😔
pairing: sub!timothée chalamet x dom!fem reader
summary: timothée has always been the more dominant one but when he lets you take control one night, he finds himself liking it a bit too much.
warnings: choking, marking, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), hand job, hair pulling, timothée calls reader “ma’am” once, degrading if you squint, riding, “traffic light” safeword system in use
word count: 1.8k
a/n: sorry this took me so long to get to anon, hope this was worth the wait tho, enjoy <3
out of all the unholy words i used today, ‘panties’ was the one i cringed at the most. why am i like this?
also, i wrote this over the span of 3 bloody weeks (thanks to my laptop bombing out and me having to get a new one) so you’ll notice the reader goes through stages of being kinda sadistic to being caring. oh well.
promps: smutty
1. “you look good but you’d look so much better with my hand wrapped around your throat.”
6. “you're mine. y'hear me? fucking mine.”
7. “touch me… please…”
16. “harder…”
18. “needy little thing, aren't you?”
not proofread cause i get second hand embarrassment when i read smut which i’ve written :’)
— — — — — X — — — — —
you gaze down at your boyfriend who is obediently kneeling in front of you as his skilled tongue laps at your cunt, desperate to please you and get something in return. you use every ounce of self restraint in you to stop yourself from throwing your head back and letting loud moans escape you. you refused to miss this, the sight was something you never wanted to forget.
you smirk down at the desperate man, eyes greedily roaming his exposed, bare body and the marks which you placed on his pale and delicate skin. his eyes slowly drift closed and you admire the blissful look on his face for a moment before your hand gently snakes into his hair, slightly tugging at the roots, a silent indication to open his eyes.
he either doesn't get the hint or doesn't care as he continues to eat you like a starved man.
“timothée.” you breathe into the hot room as you tug at his hair again. he doesn't react but you know what he's doing, you know he heard you. “timothée .” you say, adding more strength into your words and in your actions as you pull his head back with the fistful of hair in your hand.
the action forces his mouth away from you and makes him open his eyes. he lets out a whimper at the sudden movement and the brief moment of pain in his scalp. the look in his eyes makes you groan; desperation, confusion, excitement, lust. all of it combined as your lover gazes up at you as if you’re the only thing which matters in his world.
“what did i say about keeping your eyes open?” you ask, running your hand through his messy locks. “if i don’t keep them open, you won’t touch me…” he whispers, eyes becoming glossy as he becomes painfully aware of his leaking cock which sits untouched on his trembling thighs.
“correct.” you smile at him. it’s a sickly sweet smile which makes panic rise in him, knowing you had something up your sleeve.
“on the bed.” you stand from your place, stepping out your panties and watching in silent amusement as timothée scrambles from his place on the ground to the sheet clad mattress (which you know you'll have to wash later). you walk to your vanity and pull the chair out, sitting on it backwards to situate yourself in front of the bed and his anxious frame.
“i said i wouldn’t touch you, right?” you ask rhetorically. “well, guess what?” you lean your arms forward, resting them on the back of the chair, “i never said you couldn't.” you smile cheekily at him, eyes shining with glee.
his eyes widen and you look at him in anticipation. “what are you waiting for, love? don’t you want to cum?” your words seem to snap him out of his confused state and he shyly trails his hand down to his cock, wrapping his slender fingers around the base and slowly pumping it, groaning lowly at the new found friction which he’s craved all night.
you silently watch him, drinking in his appearance and how he whines for you to help him. a few minutes of what he considers blissful torture pass before you speak up, “are you close, hmm?” you know damn well he is and you also know damn well that he can’t finish without your help.
“please…” his voice is hoarse and you raise a brow at him. “please? please what?” his eyes squeeze shut, “touch me… please…”
you chuckle at his words, a simple “no” reaching his ears and making him groan in frustration and dread. you place your head on your arms as you drink in the sight of the broken man on your bed, a sadistic smile gracing your lips.
after a few minutes of watching him writhe and squirm as his hand works himself, you decide to be kind and help him out. you quietly stand and slide off the oversized shirt which hangs limply on your otherwise bare body before making your way over to timothée.
his eyes snap open and a loud moan escapes his parted lips when he feels your hand replace his own, milking him for all he’s worth. his hands grab at everything in his reach, your arms, waist, breasts, anything to ground himself as he feels his high approach rapidly. you enjoy every second of his orgasm as you listen to his sweet whines and pleas, words of appreciation and love spewing from him like a waterfall.
you release your grip on him but he chases your hand with his own, bringing it back to his aching cock which twitches at the contact. you chuckle airily at his desperation but continue stroking him, watching with amazement in your eyes as he squirms under your gaze and touch, another orgasm ripping through his body.
“you gonna give me another one?” you lean closer to his ear, “gonna cum again for me?” he shakes his head wildly, burying his face in your neck as tears start to form in his eyes. “c’mon, you can give me one more, can't you? you were so desperate for it a moment ago.” he whines and you smirk when you feel him thrust up into your hand.
“there you go, cum for me.” his breaths come out quicker and he groans at your words, wildly bucking his hips upwards, chasing the orgasm which is building embarrassingly quickly. “needy little thing, aren't you?” you tease him. “such a dirty thing… my dirty boy.” you mutter and as if on cue, he tips over the edge and cums again with a small cry of pain and pleasure.
you give him a few moments to calm down before you straddle him, pressing your lips to his bruised ones in a reassuring kiss. he gasps into your mouth as he feels your slick entrance against him, hips involuntarily bucking upwards. “fuck…” he mutters softly. “i don’t know if i can cum again…” he mutters, head foggy. “you’re not gonna leave me high and dry, are you?” you ask playfully. he frowns and shakes his head.
“colour?” you ask. although you were desperate for release, you weren’t about to make him uncomfortable or do something he wasn’t ok with. timothée seems to be in thought for a moment before he looks at you. “green.” and as if an afterthought, “fuck me…”
you can't hold back the smile which is plastered on your face. “what was that?” you tease him, wanting to see how far you can push him off the edge. “please, ma’am… fuck me. fuck me, use me. wanna make you cum too.”
the lust which you feel must be quite prominent on your face as he whines softly, hands grabbing your hips in an attempt to pull you down on him but you resist, hand yanking his head back by the hair again. the angle exposes his marked up neck and you internally scream at how good his jawline looks from this provocative angle.
you dip your head down, placing your lips near his ear, “you look good but you’d look so much better with my hand wrapped around your throat.” you murmur as you rake your nails up and down his heaving chest, a shiver escaping him as you pass lightly over his nipple.
your smug smile turns into a smirk as you watch the wrecked man below you. you feel a sense of pride as you wrap your hand around his throat and hear the moan which escapes him. the power which you hold and feel in this moment is intoxicating and you don't think you’ll ever get enough of it. “you're mine. y'hear me? fucking mine.” you whisper before kissing him harshly and pulling back to get a better look at his face.
timothée opens his mouth but whatever he was about to say gets stuck in his throat as you sink yourself down on his cock, a broken whine being released in place of his lost words. he throws his head back and you feel your own tilt slightly, the pleasure hitting you both as your walls clench around him. “fucking hell.” you can't stop yourself from gasping, moving your hips ever so slightly.
you bounce up and down, the sound of lewd clapping filling the room along with your mixed moans. “harder…” his breathy words are barely audible but you manage to pick them up and quickly obey, quickening your pace and tightening the grip on his throat to sturdy yourself.
your eyes bore into his and he squirms even more as pain, pleasure and excitement course through his tired body. his hands paw at your breasts as his breaths come out in sharp bursts. you would’ve laughed at his sheer desperation but you aren't any better, legs quivering and mouth open in a silent moan as you feel a heat build quickly in your lower abdomen.
his fingers clamp down on your hips, most likely giving you bruises, as his eyes shut tightly and head tilts backwards. you release your grip on his neck and lean down to attach your lips to his now exposed flesh, moving your hand up to thread through his hair instead. your free hand travels down your body before it reaches your clit and rubs fast circles on the sensitive spot, your orgasm approaching just as quickly as timothée’s.
before you know it, a strong feeling of pleasure washes over you as you reach your high and you collapse, bitting down on timothée’s neck, forcing him over the edge with you as strings of ‘fuck’s escapes him.
you gently kiss the area which you had previously assaulted with your teeth in an attempt to apologise. the two of you lay in each other's embrace, deep and erratic breaths being the only sound in the once noisy room. you slightly wriggle on top of him at the odd feeling of his cum dripping down your thigh. from below you, timothée groans and you feel him twitch inside you.
you lift your head up and raise a brow at him. he blushes bashfully and avoids your gaze, “i liked it.” you laughed lightly, “good to know but which part are you referring to?” you asked, not fully expecting an answer but he doesn’t seem to mind indulging your teasing question. “you being in control… it was nice…” he blush deepens even further.
you can't help smirking at his shy demeanour, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “so what i’m hearing is,” you place a gentle kiss on his cheek, “you wouldn't be opposed to doing this again?” he smiles at you, “not at all.” he leans up slightly to kiss you, arms wrapping around you to bring you even closer to him if possible.
you shiver lightly when you feel him pull out slightly and then push himself back inside you. “so needy…” you mutter between kisses. “you made me like this.” he retorts with a grin. “well then,” you start, helping his movements along, “i guess i should fix it then.”
his eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of you overstimulating him once more. it was going to be a long night. certainly one neither of you would forget.
— — — — — X — — — — —
#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet smut#timothée chalamet x reader#timothee chalamet x fem!reader#timothee chamalet x dom!reader#sub!timothee#fem!reader#dom!reader#dom!fem!reader#smut
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Hi!!!! Your L&C fics are my favorite thing ever, your writing is absolutely incredible, I'm a bit obsessed I think XDD
Apologies if this request is too specific, but I would die for a Lockwood x reader fic where the reader makes up their mind to do something stupidly reckless for a case, something even Mr. Reckless himself can't support, especially not when it's YOU. He begs you not to, you do it anyway, get badly injured, but he's still there to patch you up after all of it.
Have an awesome day!!!!!
a/n: my day is absolutely awesome so far, i hope yours is too!! and thank you so much, i'm so so glad you enjoy my stuff!! i hope you enjoy <3
warnings: language, injury
gn reader
You knew the case was going to be a bad one from the get-go, you just didn't know how bad.
Everything had seemed fine when you and the other members of Lockwood and Co met with the clients, a pair of men who owned a nearby butcher's. A Type Two haunting the place, nothing you couldn't handle. George had even found a lot a decent information on the place that could help you guys figure out where the source was. The notion of it being in a butcher's made you uneasy, and you knew very little about the Type Two, though Lockwood was sure you'd all be fine.
But, standing in the shop, facing a ghost you can't see, you know you're fucked.
It's just your luck to be faced with a poltergeist, honestly.
Unlike other Visitors, poltergeists can't inflict ghost touch which, in the long run, is very handy. If ambulances can't get to agents on time to give them an adrenaline injection, then it can lead to loss of limbs or death. It sounds like a positive, right?
Well, staring at the carving knife floating a few feet away, you would much rather be faced with a Wraith or even a Rawbones.
The thing is, poltergeists have no physical form so it's harder to look for a source, hence George and Lucy scrambling around in the backroom, clattering about as they rush to look.
Ahead of you, the knife hovers in midair, its sharp, gleaming point slowly turning as if to decide which person to dart at: you, Lockwood, or Lucy and George. It's like a horrible version of Spin the Bottle.
"So, this lovely Visitor was the old butcher?" you say, keeping your voice light. Poltergeists feed off negative emotions even more than other Type Twos.
Lockwood nods, rapier in hand as he looks around the rest of the room, rooted in place. "That's what George says."
"What reason does it have to be haunting the place?"
"Killed by an angry employee, I think."
You hold back a grumble, forcing down your anger at stupid people from the past. If they'd known how many problems they'd cause in the future, would they still have been such idiots?
Probably.
"Watch your back then," you joke. "You have three employees. Keep us happy, will you?"
"There's only so much tea I can make."
The knife rises in the air slightly and you falter back a step as its sharp end points at you.
"I think I'm the favourite," you mutter, trying to keep your fear in check. It's not often ghosts threaten you at knifepoint. "Lockwood, you go help Lucy and George look for the source. I'll keep its attention."
"No way." He looks at you incredulously. "We're doing this together."
Palms sweating, you say, "Your rapier isn't going to do much against a ghost we can't see, and not all of us can look for the source because then none of us stands a chance."
"I'm not letting you face it on your own," Lockwood insists. "Not a chance. The thing's got a knife, and it can do much worse."
But Lucy shouts something from the backroom, drawing Lockwood's attention. Through the buzz of fear in your ears, you think she says they might've found something.
"Lockwood, go!"
"(name), I'm not just going to leave you to -"
The knife whizzes in the air, lodging itself in the wooden doorframe, awfully close to your shoulder. It's like the Visitor wants Lockwood to stay, but you aren't going to let him. He's the leader of Lockwood and Co, the face of it. The company needs him. But not you. You're expendable.
Your Talent isn't anything special, not like Lucy's, and your research skills are nowhere near the standard of George's. All you're good at is using a rapier and sweet-talking DEPRAC when cases go tits up. Lockwood can easily fill in for you.
"Lockwood," you grit out, trying to keep the frustration at a minimum. "Go."
He's about to argue, but George calls for help - whatever they've found is stuck. He doesn't move.
Before you can think about it, you rush over and shove him in the direction of the backroom, and he stumbles, falling into the door. He barely gets his footing before Lucy's dragged him through.
"(name)!" he shouts, but he doesn't appear. Thank god for Lucy.
"All right," you murmur, turning to look at the knife in the doorframe. "Just you and me, now, Polty."
Slowly, threateningly, the knife dislodges from the frame, shining in the dim lanternlight. From the far wall, a knife rack trembles on its hooks, and more come free. Your heart is in your throat. Maybe you'll end up like a ghost you've defeated before, an old man who'd been jumped and stabbed endlessly.
Hopefully, you'll be an easy ghost to get rid of.
The carving knife comes flying at you, and you barely deflect it with the thin blade of your rapier. Another knife darts across the room, and you duck out of the way, though it nicks your ear. You can feel the little dribble of blood sliding down the skin already.
"Do you guys mind hurrying up a bit?" you call, eyeing the large collection of knives hovering. "Not to rush you or anything, but, you know, I'm not the biggest fan of being threatened by knives."
"Almost there!" Lucy shouts. "George got his arm stuck trying to get the source out. We're trying to get him unstuck."
Swallowing, you say lightly, "Yeah, sounds fun. Maybe speed it up a little."
You can hear a little arguing, likely Lockwood trying to come back out to help but getting told off by Lucy. You almost smile. Almost.
This time, the small knife that launches at you catches your shoulder and you resist crying out in pain. If you do, Lockwood will definitely come running out, and you can't afford that. They need to get the source.
Blood oozes down your arm, staining your jumper. Your grasp on your rapier weakens, and you swap the blade into your other hand, although this hand is considerably worse with it.
"It's rude to stab people," you grumble.
The next knife is deflected clumsily from your face, half from the inability of using your other hand and half from the pain in your shoulder. You'd pull the knife out, but you know it'll make things worse. At least it hasn't hit anything vital.
You can feel the presence of the poltergeist, thick and hanging over the whole room like a blanket. It isn't the most powerful one, not like the ones you've heard Fittes agents dealing with, because, even though its presence is everywhere, its focus is dealt solely on you. If it were stronger, it'd be targeting the others, too.
"Go on then, give me your worst."
Another knife, another dodge. It feels like it goes on forever, on and on and on with the same knives over again. The blood from your shoulder has reached your hand now and, god, how you wish you could throw a salt bomb at this thing. Your fingers itch to hold one.
"Hurry up!"
Mistake. You regret speaking immediately, having let out a little too much frustration, and the poltergeist feeds on it. The knives tremble in the air, every point staring menacingly at you, and the one hanging in your shoulder tears out, bringing with it another gush of blood. You can't help the cry that escapes your lips this time.
"Get the silver net, hurry!" Lucy's voice shouts.
The world moves in slow motion. As the knives fly in your direction, gleaming, one covered in blood, your heart feels like it ceases all functions. This is where you die. You'll never be able to dodge all of them in time.
Then the first blade sinks into your shoulder, just inches below the first puncture, and you shut your eyes.
You'll miss Portland Row and your friends. Maybe you didn't cherish their antics enough - the way George sings in the shower in the mornings, waking you up, or how Lucy will blast music at full volume while hacking away at the dummies in the basement for rapier practice. Most of all, you'll miss Lockwood. His smile, the way his eyes sparkle when he realises you've bought him a new magazine from the shop, the feeling of his fingers brushing yours as he passes you a mug of tea after every case.
There isn't much you regret, but you regret not telling him how you feel about him. About the nights you spend thinking about him, wishing for something more between you both.
Metal slams to the ground. The heavy pressure sitting on your shoulders dissipates, and silence ensues.
Slowly opening your eyes, you startle, seeing a dozen knives scattered on the floor right in front of your feet. Droplets of blood drip from your fingers, forming a little puddle on the floor. You're breathing heavily, much more than you should be, and your body is trembling.
The others stumble into the room, eyeing the blades that have fallen before you. Lockwood is the first to notice the blood soaking the sleeve of your jumper.
He practically leaps over the counter to get to you. "Lucy, George, go get rid of the source and get us a night cab. Quick."
Wordlessly, the two sprint from the shop and into the night.
"You're okay," Lockwood says.
You almost believe him, falling for the assured tone of his voice, but you feel a little woozy. Knees buckling, you drop to the floor, but he catches you with gentle hands, slowly lowering you down so you can sit after kicking the knives away.
"You're okay," he says again, though it sounds like it's more for himself than for you.
"I'm fine," you say, smiling albeit weakly. "Polty didn't stand a chance."
"Polty?" Lockwood parts from your side, grasping his bag from the corner and digging in it for a first aid kit. "You named the ghost?"
Nodding, you lean your head back against the wall. "He was my best mate."
There's a small laugh. "I don't think Lucy will appreciate that sentiment."
He's beside you again before you can even really process it, gingerly touching the ripped hole in your jumper. There's a lot more blood there than you initially realised.
"Do you think you can get your jumper off?" Lockwood asks. "I need to see the cuts."
Normally, you would've made a comment at that, but your throat feels awfully dry. "Take the knife out first?"
He goes pale, eyeing the - thankfully - small knife stuck in your arm.
"This will hurt. Hold onto my arm."
And you do. You weakly wrap your hand around his forearm, bracing yourself for the pain. He begins to count down from three, but he yanks the knife out on one, and you shout in pain, squeezing his arm.
"You pulled it early!"
"You would've made it harder to get out if I'd counted down the whole way." He looks a little bad for doing it, but you can understand why he did it. "Jumper?"
With his help, you manage to pull the thing off, hissing as you move your injured shoulder. Your T-shirt is stained at the sleeve, too, and partially at the neckline. It stings to pull it from the wound, but, soon enough, the cuts are visible. They're neat little things, nothing more than small slits in your skin, but they go deep. Lockwood will only be able to do so much.
With shaking hands, Lockwood pulls some things out of the first aid kit. You're too sore to really notice.
"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"
His voice shocks you out of the daze you were slipping into. "Hmm?"
"You shouldn't have done that alone. Look what's happened."
As he brings an alcohol wipe to the gashes, you wince at the sharp sting and the pressure he applies but say, "And what should I have done? Let you be the one to do it alone? We both know that you wouldn't have let me help, Lockwood. And you're more important in the grand scheme of things. I think I would've made quite the sacrifice if it had come to it."
"Don't say that." His voice wavers slightly, so quietly you barely hear it. "You're important to me."
He applies more pressure to the wounds, then he places wound dressings over them before grabbing a water bottle from his bag and soaking a tissue. Gently, he takes your arm in his hand and cleans away the slowly drying blood. It's messy work - the tissue keeps flaking apart, but it does the job and, soon enough, your arm is only faintly stained with your blood. He cleans the little bit of blood away from your ear quickly, placing a little plaster over the cut.
"I wasn't going to let you do it," you say, gratefully swallowing the painkillers he hands you. "You would've killed yourself to save us."
"And you didn't just try practically the same thing?"
There's an undertone of anger in his voice, but it's weak, taken over almost completely by his concern.
"(name) -" He hesitates, looking away from you. His ears are tinted slightly red. "You can't just be reckless like that. Not when..."
His fingers brush yours as you say, "When what?"
You can feel the tremble in his fingers. Although you're the one with stab wounds that still need medical attention, you worry. His smile, that cocky grin you've grown so fond of, is nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by parted lips and heavy breathing. The pulse you can feel in his fingers is erratic.
"Not when you mean so much to me. I can't lose you."
The words take you aback. For a moment, you're acutely aware of his skin touching yours, of the sound of his breaths, and the way the light accentuates the features on his face. His cheekbones look sharper, and his eyes glimmer, darkness set alight with little stars.
He mistakes your shocked silence for rejection. "A night cab should be here soon, then we can get you to a hospital and -"
His words falter when your good hand touches his cheek. Slowly, his gaze turns to your outstretched arm, gradually making its way up the limb until he's looking at you - your eyes, your lips. This is the most nervous you've seen him, and it makes you feel a little triumphant. Not many people make Anthony Lockwood nervous.
"I'm okay," you promise. "You've patched me up, and we're going to get me taken care of, yeah? But, first..."
"But first?" His eyebrow quirks, and he watches you closely.
It's something you never would do in normal circumstances. Really, you're probably not in the right state of mind, but you've wanted to do this for months. And Lockwood doesn't stop you.
When your lips touch his, you feel a sense of completeness. Like your soul has been made whole. It's as if they're the missing piece to a puzzle you've been trying to finish all your life, finally found after years and years of searching.
One of Lockwood's hands holds the back of your neck, his touch gentle, giving you enough leeway to pull away if you so wish. But you don't. You won't. No, instead your clutch his shirt with your good hand, holding him close. You never want this to end, this feeling of finally being whole. Your heart is racing, and it feels as though your very being is going to implode from pure elation.
Carefully, reluctantly, he pulls away, but his face stays close. His eyes search yours for any glimpse of regret, but he finds none, and he grins, at last. The smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself smiling, too, despite your pain.
"You don't know how long I've been waiting for that," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You can feel his breath on your lips. "I might have an idea."
And then he's kissing you again, snatching your breath away.
Silently, you're thanking the poltergeist for the wounds, a thought that almost makes you laugh.
#lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood and co fanfiction#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#george karim#lucy carlyle#x reader#fanfiction#lockwood and co netflix#givemea-dam-break
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Somethin’ Stupid | pt.3
AN; the last part is finally here, I promise next time I make a series I’ll make a reminder to write faster on these things!! On a side not I’ve been trying to write more poems, I’m just scared they sound like a 13yr olds English assignment. I sincerely appreciate everyone’s support on this series up to this point<33 I’m not sure if anyone caught on, but I stole the Frank Sinatras song title for this
Two separate people you’d wish to keep apart by all means, were colliding & it wasn’t helping the problem at hand. The distance made it so you couldn’t see just how much Abby was laughing right at Ellie, excusing how her arms crossed in front of her stomach failed to contain that laughter.
“Fucking Abby.”
Ellie was agitated, regardless she wanted to play the bigger man in front of you, not wanting to cause any further problems. So refraining from a harsh confrontation she lead you away, with her hand clasped onto your wrist pulling you away from Abby’s practice session. Ellie’s grip was one of a strong clutch, her walk was quick with long strides to get away from Abby’s viewing as soon as she could.
“She looked like a kicked dog, I wish I recorded that,”
Abby had her fun and enjoyment making a soccer ball hit her new goal keepers face, but dissipated at the look of worry you wore being pulled away at the wrist. The way your eyes were so agile of worry that Ellie was in pain. Sheer regret would ruin this moment for Abby, regret for being the pinpoint reason of the soft tending gaze you placed onto Ellie.
It wouldn’t matter how you looked at Ellie now, not taking a second to look back with the plans to hit the store erased from her mind told by her change of path to her dorm instead. Not saying a word, it didn’t seem the time to, the weight of how angry she truly was something you didn’t know how deep rooted into her was.
“El’s, are you okay?”
Allowing her to continue on this short rampage Ellie was perusing wouldn’t end well, better to strike her down before she goes on any longer in this state. Even then there’s no response, the footsteps leading to up the stairs sounded heavier each step. Before Ellie would drive you up any further you’d beckon her arm to stop, signaling to pause the trudging up the stairwell for a brief moment. A mean look of features had remained the whole walk, but now it was you being so sweet to her now. Ellie dropped the prolonged clench of her jaw, knowing with you it wouldn’t change anything staying in the mood of having resentment for Abby.
“Look, I’m just,”
her fingers come in to pinch the bridge of her nose between her eyes, a soft sigh following in suit right afterwards. The way Ellie could be so gentle and aggressive we’re two sights that contrasted each other like black and white.
“She was obviously targeting me or something and, I know I know, putting my anger on you isn’t gonna help.”
The stairwell was secluded, while Ellie beamed down onto you, standing on the step in front of you. A remorseful look of a smile looked back at you, the smile that let you know she’d let it go for the moment.
“Take it easy yeah? Let me put some frozen peas on your bruise.”
Ellie moved to the side, gesturing for you to take the lead now. Her hand fell from your wrist to dangling from the grasp of your two fingers locked onto her own middle and pointer finger. Ellie would never with intent be so rough with you, not when it could strain the relationship you’ve built, so she made it so every time she was mad to resolve it quickly.
Walking like this with her right behind felt oddly familiar, odd as if this had been the life you’ve already been living of having Ellie walk alongside heading home, yours and Ellie’s home. If only you knew Ellie shared this feeling of familiarity, imagining it plenty of times before, walking up to your dorm. Welcoming herself inside as if she’d come home to you after a tiresome day into a shared space filled with furnishings reflecting both of your personalities.
Finally getting to the door and jamming in the key Ellie gave you for “just in case” situations, her arms crept behind you latching to your sides now holding onto you.
“By the way, I don’t have frozen peas,”
Ellie’s voice came in a raspy whisper with how close she was, the small chuckle that you felt on your shoulder had you a rose tinted face.
”But, I do have frozen go-gurt sticks.”
Her arm outstretched to the handle of the freezer before yours, rifling through the strawberry flavored ones to get to the blue raspberry one. She spun you around to face her, Ellie let you hold it up to her face to the sore cheek, any pain given by the hit was forgiven by the endearing way you treated Ellie when she was hurt or sick, or felt bad for that matter, with the smile you’ve adored ever since the first meeting.
“Does it feel better yet?”
“Yeah, with you as my designated nurse.”
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
Game day, the day that’s been anticipated with so much enthusiasm by so many people was here. By now Ellie went to practices over a dozen time, to makeup for being put on such short notice. She was player 7, so naturally you had to make your shirt with 7 plastered onto it and in bold letters Ellie Williams. Even when wearing Ellie’s number you still had an obligation to Abby, she was the reason you’d be going in the first place. 6:17pm, you were in your room adding the final details to the sign you initially were working on for Abby, the teams red and white shades coordinating the outfit you set up the night before digging through your wardrobe, ribbons laced into your hair.
Abby was training with her team more often than not with the game approaching, so Abby couldn’t help asking to meet up an hour before heading off to the fields. What you didn’t expect was her appearance at your door, originally it was planned to meet at the lobby. You’d known it was Abby when her voice asked for you by name.
“Woah you’re dressed up.”
Abby’s scent wafted into your face once the door was swung open, the perfume she used complimented her perfectly. Abby’s smile faltered for a second when she realized whose number you wore so broadly.
“Didn’t know you’d come meet me here, otherwise I’d finish your sign earlier!”
The smile went right back onto her face, peering over your shoulder catching a second of a glimpse before you block her view as in attempt to keep the sign a surprise. Knowing you’d been working away on a sign that’d be more widely seen steered her attention from the Ellie shirt.
“You’re such a big fan of me,” Abby’s lips went right into a smile, letting the edges of her eyes wrinkle. Despite her tough appearance Abby she was tender hearted where it mattered, and who better to show just how tender she could be than you.
You roll your eyes at her comment trying to retain the grin that was slowly forming,
“For your next game I should be your sponsor, here come in. Wait before you get in,”
Snaking around Abby, you brought your hands up to cover Abby’s eyes, laying your pinkies on the plush of her cheeks.
”Okay start walking.”
“Kind of hard to walk when I can’t see,” maybe it was the body heat of yourself, or the heat radiating off of Abby’s reaction to your sudden touch that your hands felt warmer.
You situated Abby on the edge of your bed avoiding the sign, sliding it under your bed with your foot in the process, once letting go Abby’s eyes were peeled open already, looking into you. It stayed like that for a minute, both of you being able to appreciate the girl in front of them. Only a minute before Abby’s phone rang disrupting everything.
Unsure of what was being told over the line it was obvious they were screaming, Abby sighed while the other person ranted on and on, presumably someone from her team.
“Alright I’ll be there soon, let me wrap up something right now yeah?”
Groaning she hung up without letting another word come from the caller.
“I have to go, but I’ll look for you first thing at the game.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Abby rised from her spot, her foot stepped towards the door with a second of hesitation, that turned into confidence as she turned around to place small peck onto the right side of your cheek. Unannounced and unexpected the small kiss made you giggle, it felt soft just as her lips looked.
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
Front row seat that’d been reserved just for you, you’ve already come across a couple of girls wearing Abby’s number. Ellie’s appearance on the team was so sudden you’d been the only one adorning her number. 40 minutes into the game loud cheering of loud crowds whenever Abby successfully made a goal, but she only made an effort to look at you, smiling right back at her.
Ellie was determined to do something valuable to the game in effort to show off for you, but with Abby deterring any members of the opposing team Ellie was practically useless the entire 40 minutes. Especially since the two times she was put up to the test she missed by an inch or two, the ball going right past her into the net. She’d cruse herself for being distracted by you standing there so brightly from the goal post. The rest of the players shot bitter looks at Ellie’s direction anytime the ball got anywhere near her.
Each of them doubted her ability, it’s was unavoidable with her performance as of recent. Ellie was agitated of her own playing skills, she joined solely to impress you, but it was showing to be an unfruitful way to do so.
A scowl on Ellie’s face was apparent now, Abby on the other hand was gloating now in the screams of everyone for her team, specifically the chant of her last name of every girl cheering for her.
The rest of the game played out the same, leaving Ellie’s goal keeper reputation tarnished and stained, practices went so much better than today and for that she was mad at herself for being unable to perform for you in the way Ellie hoped for.
While the team walked back to the locker rooms, you’d been able to see the celebratory way the players acted with each other. Abby leading everyone and gloating in the credit for winning like she always did. Ellie walked in the back behind everyone else, treading with a slight sulk as if she was on the losing team.
You took the initiative to hurry over to where they were in the back. Getting up and away from your seat, then rolling up the sign for Abby before seeing Ellie, it was her on your mind to see first.
Waiting on a bench outside the doors, looking up from your phone waiting to see any sign of Ellie to emerge from the locker rooms. Abby came out first, face and walk full of pride after another game that went to successfully, even more so knowing Ellie wasn’t much of help giving her all more reason to end up kicking her off. Abby dismissed her teammates that came out alongside her coming right over you.
“Had fun? Having you there felt like my own personal cheerleader.”
She sat besides you, crossing her arms together staring at you with the look she’d wear after each win, a look you’ve only seen through photos.
“you did amazing Abby.”
She bit her lip taking her gaze off you debating whether to ask you to a gathering now that the game was over, nervous she’d face rejection. After all you’d already spent so much time watching her.
“you know, we’re getting dinner at a restaurant nearby, would you want to come?” Her voice came out mellowed out from the tone earlier. Abby’s eyes were so docile when waiting for you to reply.
“Yeah I’ll be there, let me do something really quick before we go.”
Upon reply she smiled and went with the rest of her players, heading out talking about the moves they did, soaking in the victory. Ellie walked out the door next, face ridden of annoyance. Almost jumping out of the bench you rush over to her side.
“Hey El’s, going to the dinner after?”
You put your cheery tone on to help Ellie bring herself from the mood or at most distract her attention elsewhere after noting her continued look of defeat.
“No I’m heading out.” Ellie’s voice was worn out, with lingering sentiment of disappointment, a tone you’ve only heard until now. Quiet and raspy in nature, seeing her displayed like this, sweaty, hair disheveled with her little bun holding on for dear life, the slouchiness of her posture, pulled at you with a sense of pity.
Everything becoming all to clear for her rash behavior recently, almost like a blessing to the wishes you’ve fought so far for to become reality. The words found their own way out at her vulnerability, seeping from your heart to the outside world,
“Ellie, I’m in love with you.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not standing outside of a locker room at 10pm on a random weekday. You’d play it out to be much more romantic somewhere secluded and alone with her, but withstanding without letting your emotions be known to her when it was this obvious why she acted the way she did wasn’t working anymore. Ellie looked up sharply, her lips were agape but nothing came out, not a single sound let alone a word.
Now it really wasn’t supposed to be like this, Ellie unresponsive while she looked at you confused, essentially as if what you’ve spoken was properly interpreted by her ears or if she really was going crazy.
“God, that was so stupid I’m sorr-“
Just before you’d be able annunciate the last vowel Ellie’s arm took you in close to her in an instant. An embrace that resembles all the strong emotions she’s ever felt for you, each thing she’s done to get to this point.
“It’s not stupid, I’m in love with you too, just never wanted to spoil what we had.”
Even when you wouldn’t ever have thought things would come to be this way it all felt so right, they’re wrapped in the arms of the girl your love was so overbearing for. You can see it In her eyes when she lifted her head that every word Ellie said was genuine, and so genuine was the kiss that you’d been wanting for so long that she gave into immediately upon your doing.
#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader#wlw#ellie x you#lesbian#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#tlou game#the last of us
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~Writerly Thumbprint Challenge~
Rules: look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. what are five (or more!) narrative elements, themes, topics or tropes that continuously pop up in your work?
Thanks to @thana-topsy for the tag! I was admittedly a bit intimidated by this one, but it was so illuminating. It's been a long time since I've taken a step back to evaluate my stories through a critical lens, and sometimes I forget what I've written 😅 I know a lot of people have already been tagged, so I'm tagging: @wispstalk @atypicalacademic @thequeenofthewinter @chennnington @rainpebble3 @justafoxhound @dumpsterhipster @skyrim-forever @sylvienerevarine @gilgamish @burningsilence
I'm a baby writer. Only two fics, both TES. Here is what I came up with:
1. An Inner Darkness, A Downward Spiral — Most of my OCs have a secret (sometimes not-so-secret) viscousness that's always simmering under the surface, threatening to ooze free. They're not necessarily mean, but they're not good people. They may not be evil, but they all do very bad things. Why? Because 1) thieving and necromancing and murder for hire are kinda fun in-game, and if our Hero is doing all of that while saving the world, it needs to be explained with something other than whimsy lol, and 2) I like the challenge of writing morally grey characters who are flawed and fucked up and unforgivable while simultaneously asking readers to root for them. I've found it quite difficult to make them likable and deserving of sympathy while not overlooking their wrongdoings or writing them inconsistently, but it makes for such interesting conflict.
2. The Pursuit of Knowledge — My protagonists and their close friends are mage-nerds because I am a nerd, and perhaps this is a case of it's easier to write what's close to home?? I love University settings and the looseness of the elder scrolls magic system. There is so much great lore to work with but in many cases it's not so rigid that you can't also twist it and grow it and shape it to your own desire. Knowledge is power as the Telvanni say. Most of my protagonists are not physically strong and rely on cunning and/or magic for defense. In that way, knowledge is the primary avenue by which they assert control over the world around them, which facilitates a lot of conversations surrounding the ethics of magical use cause well... given the way my OCs use it, it deserves to be questioned.
3. Identity — How does a character perceive themselves? How does this compare to what is perceived by those around them? I love exploring the discrepancies between these two and often write arcs that involve a character breaking through the facades they've constructed to conform to what is expected of them and/or shield themselves from the discomfort they feel in their own skin.
4. Loneliness, A Desperate Need for Love — I write characters who have been placed or place themselves on the fringes of society, yet long for acceptance and a place to belong. This leads to a lot of unhealthy and messy relationships, both familial, platonic, and romantic. Often times they hurt people they care about. They let others hurt them too, but it's okay as long as they're not alone, right? It's angst all the way to the top baby.
5. Romance is not the End Goal — Yeah, my work features ships. I'd say it's actually a huge part of the stories, but mostly because the relationships my characters are involved in "fail." People break up or they die tragically. They become incompatible and move on (sometimes lol). Maybe they endure, but romantic love is not the only kind nor the highest valued, and most importantly, I want to write characters whose self-worth is not tied up in whether they're loved by someone else.
Bonus is Awkard Bisexual Losers because all my OCs are cringe-fail and have no game.
This was such an informative exercise! I encourage everyone to take a stab at it. Please tag me if you do. I'm so excited to see what you come up with :))
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WIP Whenever
Thank you for the tag, @westernlarch! I've been smashing my head against a single chapter for far too long, and though I just finished it today, I don't have the heart to look at it again right now. So, I'll pull something from the one I'm currently editing, to be posted next week. It's a fun scene from a fun chapter, with a little drawn from a few different canon scenes if you can pick them out.
Loyalty and Limerence, Part 3, Chapter 14 Snippet
“I shouldn’t be surprised by your chipperness, I forgot that you’re a sadist who loves seeing the rest of us in pain.” Garrus grumbled as he shuffled toward the cupboard and began rooting around for a dextro coffee pack. Shepard chuckled as he returned his eyes to his datapad.
“No, I’m just not a masochist who chooses to overindulge, unlike the rest of you layabouts. Some of us have responsibilities.” The words lacked any true rebuke, and Garrus snorted as he poured boiling water into his cup. “Have you seen Jane? Is she up yet?” Shepard asked, causing Garrus to look up in confusion.
“What, you haven’t seen her? She’s not in her bunk, so I assumed she’d already gotten up.”
“Jane is in the starboard observation deck, along with Ashley and Tali, Commander.” EDI interjected over the Normandy’s intercom, “You might want to check on them, they are somewhat… unwell.”
“How unwell are we talking?” Shepard asked sharply as he stood and they both quickly made their way toward the door, datapads and coffee left forgotten.
“Their vital signs are stable.” EDI replied ominously as the door opened, and they stepped inside.
“Ugggghhh…” Someone groaned quietly, and Garrus’ eyes scanned the room. His head throbbed, the pain a sharp reminder that his body no longer dealt with alcohol quite as well as it had in his younger days.
The room seemed empty, but as they stepped forward, Garrus noticed a figure laying on one of the couches in the corner.
“Tali?” He called out, and someone shushed him harshly. Garrus and Shepard exchanged a look before approaching.
“Shhhhhh, hush. Why do you have to walk so loudly?” Jane growled from where she lay on the floor, her feet propped up on the couch near where Tali lay. She had an arm draped over her eyes, her lips turned down in a frown. Beside her, Ashley lay on her side, curled into a ball. More than one empty bottle stood on the end table nearby.
“Uhhh…” Ashley groaned, and Shepard crossed his arms as he came to stand before them.
“What have we here?” He asked, his voice dry and amused. Jane shifted her arm just enough to glare up at him with one bloodshot eye.
“You and your smug grin can just fuck right off, John.” She snarled before replacing her arm.
“Sir, we’re off duty. Your voice. Sir. Not… so… loud. Pleasethankyou.” Ashley muttered quietly, her words undulating in a way Garrus had to imagine her stomach might be. His stomach certainly was.
“I. Am going. To die.” Tali whispered morosely as she lay absolutely still. Jane twisted her foot and tapped it on the top of Tali’s helmet lightly, but the quarian remained immobile.
Tagging @dispatchwithlove, @otemporanerys, @misseffect if you feel like participating, along with anyone else who might be interested.
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Continuing to be in Hell (or, more Ghost Ideas)
I have Ideas about a few Ghost-centered GhostSoap fics that I do not have the time or energy to currently write, so please accept these meager offerings in their place
1. Obligatory sickfic. I feel like I haven’t seen enough/any of these, and the potential is delicious. Please it’s obligatory this is also a request for someone else to write this too. The fever-induced flashbacks, etc, caretaker Soap, the flavours are melting in my mouth
2. Obligatory coffeeshop/flowershop AU BUT I’m making it more traumatic.
I’m thinking Price runs 141 Coffee (@bluishfishfood has an absolutely wonderful coffeeshop AU comic that I’ve sold my soul to and it is my inspo for this)
There’s a flowershop down the way that’s been closed as long as Soap and Gaz have been working at 141, until one day Gaz is like “Hey did y’all see that tall grim reaper-looking dude going into the closed flowershop? Wonder what’s up with that?” And Price books it over, because he knew the owners of Beth’s Flowers before, and he knows there’s only one Riley left, a tall grim reaper-looking dude, and maybe he’s excited maybe he’s scared, what the hell could Simon be doing in his dead brother and sister-in-law’s old shop?
Still deciding how Price and Ghost know each other, cause still debating how angsty with Ghost’s backstory I want to go. Could be very in line with comic canon with Roba and everything, and Ghost just got discharged after because he’s unfit for duty (which Price would know him through SAS). Could be just tragic car crash or something and maybe Price was one of the cops that dealt with it or something. Or could be somewhere in between, where the Riley family was just wrong place wrong time and got targeted by some fucked up people for no reason at all, and Simon had managed to be in the right place at the wrong time and missed the break in, the fight, the gunshots reported by the neighbors, the bloody beatings, and the torched house to destroy the evidence. There are murderers in this world, and entire families die. Maybe Price was a cop on that case too, and took Simon in for a bit after, till one morning Simon was just gone. And Price looks for him, but the kid was always a bit of a ghost, and Price can’t blame him for finding some corner to blow his brains out in, but he can blame himself - so he retires, opens a coffeeshop once he goes stir crazy, and suddenly Gaz is telling him Simon Riley is back.
Anyways Price shows up expecting nothing and anything, and sure as shit Simon Riley is standing in the middle of Tommy and Beth’s flowershop. He’s decided to try to reopen it, maybe sell plants as well as cut flowers (things you can root and grow and keep alive - there’s uh some symbolism there)
It still takes ages for Soap, Gaz, and the others to actually meet Ghost - Price can still see the cracks in Ghost and keeps his idiots on a tight leash, only letting himself be the one to run across the way every day to drop off a tea (on the house, of course).
Eventually, they meet, obviously. Maybe Soap’s closing up the late shift, and turns around and suddenly there’s a fucking demon in front of him - of course it’s only Ghost, in all black with a skeletal medical mask and skeleton gloves and hood up and somehow didn’t ring the bell over the door on entrance - but Soap had already shit himself.
Basically this one is just about healing, Ghost remembering his family without getting pulled down by them, and hey if there’s a mouthy barista just down the way that writes stupid as shit jokes on your cup it’s a plus as well.
3. Undercover Mission. Basically I’m gay uhhhhhhhhh They have to infiltrate some high end gala or something but it’s a group/person the 141 has dealt with before and “Everyone there is gonna recognize our faces, Price”, “Well there’s one face they’ve never seen”. Cue a pissed off but holy shit fucking sexy Ghost stepping into the room in formal wear and no mask and basically I just want Soap to have the biggest gayest crisis of his life and then have to be on overwatch for Ghost and be forced to continue to stare at Ghost’s ass and his face and his hair and his forearms holy shit watch him through a scope as Ghost makes the mission his bitch (and if Soap gets possessive watching assholes talk to/flirt with his unmasked and unarmed Ghost, well no one has to know (Soap’s dick definitely knows))
4. Supernatural AU. Same military setting as normal, but supernatural beings exist.
Price is a therianthrope (i.e. human that can turn into different animals). His go-to is a bear, but will also change to hawk pretty often for scouting. There’s a handful of other more normal animals he’s pretty good at, but bear is the most comfortable for him.
Gaz is a werewolf (this may or may not be mainly for the cat and dog jokes Soap can and will make).
Soap is an empath, and a very powerful one. This isn’t in any of his files because a lot of people are against empaths doing the hard and dirty work groups like the 141 does - they’re worried empaths might be more susceptible to flipping sides, and to torture, or may crumble from all the death around them. They’re usually in overwatch positions like Laswell’s, able to help with their abilities without actually being a “liability”. At beginning of fic, no one in 141 knows he’s an empath, though he doesn’t exactly hide it anymore, he just also doesn’t broadcast it. He can also manipulate others’ emotions, and force them to do stuff even if they don’t really want to. Still working on what to call it, but only powerful empaths can do it, and it’s usually a very slippery slope. Soap’s very careful with his Commands, partly because he’s very aware how terrible it can be to be Commanded, partly because it’s a surefire sign of a powerful empath and he is still trying to fly low, partly because his older sisters would kick his ass if any hint of a Command slipped out when they were all younger, but mostly because that’s just not who he is.
And Ghost? Oh boy. Ghost was born human, but is now a hybrid, which is a mess of issues. Hybrids cannot be born, and to create hybrids is illegal basically everywhere in the world, so basically just by looking at Ghost you can tell something happened. He’s now part big cat (yes I’m making catboy Ghost stfu), and has the ears, tail, sharp canines, and senses of a feline, and makes sure to hide all of it. His eyes also look just the slightest bit off, but with the mask you don’t notice. (I’m also thinking about giving him little Wolverine-ish claws that retract in and out of his fingerpads but are very painful and bloody to do so). In case it isn’t obvious, his forced transformation was a result of Roba. In case it isn’t obvious, the amount of trauma this bad boy can fit into him is Massive. He’s a monster now, but not even a normal one, no, he’s the only monster that’s still literally illegal. His issues with seeing himself in the mirror. Hiding the ears, the eyes, the tail, etc in his Ghost getup. The trauma potential... Going into fic, only Price knows he’s a hybrid
Everyone finds out about Ghost being a hybrid and Soap being an empath in a span of minutes at the end of a mission one time. Soap had rigged a bomb to give them cover to get the hell out of dodge, but something went wrong with the fuse and it goes off way too early. Not early enough to ruin the mission, or frankly even to seriously injure any of them, but Ghost, for some reason, goes down hard. Luckily, Price is with him, and drags his ass to exfil and into the copter, but he’s acting like he took a piece of rebar to the lungs and Soap can’t figure it out but fucking hell if Soap himself isn’t feeling the nauseating pain Ghost is putting off. Soap doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he knows he’s never felt Ghost hurt in this way before, and he knows it’s his fault.
Quickly enough, Price rips the bandaid off for all of them, pulling Ghost’s mask off in one short action, and the first thing Soap sees is cat ears, and the second is blood. It takes longer than it probably should for Soap to put together the pieces, and even longer to remember that cats have some of the most sensitive hearing among mammals, and that Soap’s faulty bomb ruptured Ghost’s sensitive eardrums and then some.
And boy if that copter isn’t a mess for a while after, cause Ghost is in a lot of pain and his face is bare and his team knows how much of a freak he is etc etc etc, while Soap is the one actually crying because Ghost is in a lot of pain which means Soap is too (and maybe those higher ups were right about empaths being useless in the field) and Ghost is in that pain because of Soap and also Ghost is a hybrid which means something bad happened etc etc etc
In between crying Soap is just like “Is now a bad time to tell y’all I’m an empath???” And Price, who is trying to assess Ghost without Ghost literally killing him for it, just pauses, and very tiredly goes, “Yes, Soap, it is actually”. And Soap goes, “Oh, okay, forget that then”, and goes back to crying on Gaz.
It all turns out fine in the end, Soap makes a bunch of cat and dog jokes, Gaz is bummed that they have an all supernatural TF and can’t brag about it, Price goes full Dad on them all, and maybe Ghost learns he’s still capable of being loved, who knows
If you’re still here thank you holy shit I didn’t mean to write that much... If anyone wants to yell about these please feel free
One day I’ll write at least one of these...
#ghost#ghost fanfiction#ghostsoap#simon riley#soap mactavish#cod mw2#fanfic ideas#remakes canon angst into cooler gayer angst#fuck you redoes your angst
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thinking about your bake off AU....... me and claudia were discussing an F1 version i would personally love ur thoughts on this
this is genuinely the best au ever and i can never do it justice but here's some ideas i have
this is so hard because there's like 50 million footballers and 20 spaces in this god awful sport. and i also don't wanna do like just a straight comparison either cause the idea of comparing any footballer to lewis... i'd throw my own self in jail
right so i dont care about taa at all but you do so in light of the southgate news he's giving the vibe of "guy who won junior series in his rookie or second season, got to like alpha tauri and then was overlooked for a promotion to one of the big teams in favour of everyone else" despite somehow winning a race in a shitbox of a car and if southgate was in charge would probably be sent off to fe or indycar or something to free up a seat.
okay i know i said i wouldnt do comparisons but sadly i DO think though not at all equal deccy would end up being the danny ric of the grid like un four chew nat lee he does have the charismatic appeal and also the glow up. outside of that comparison i think he ends up being a solid midfield driver, there's always rumours of him making the step up but everywhere is already taken and the contracts never align and people just don't want to spend money buying him out because it'd be so high because he's so key for said midfield team so he gets a couple wins but he never challenges for a championship. OR i'd argue grealish could fill that danny role but i truly truly do not think that man would be smart enough to remember what all the buttons on that steering wheel do. like it's just not happening is it... i can suspend disbelief in an au only for so long. he'd crash trying to push one button cause he'd look down trying to find it rather than remembering to concentrate on the bloody track
if i give spurs players past and present some championships the way i cannot give them trophies at spurs erm... look away. but also dembele wins like 1 championship but is forever an underrated driver and people don't appreciate his racecraft but other drivers on the grid hate to battle him because they know he's sooooo good. wait jan and mousa teammates yeah!!!!!!!!! they win a championship each. gonna say harry and son are teammates at some point and absolutely DOMINATE because the work SO well together and helping to develop the car. dele and eric ARE teammates when dele first breaks into the sport like they WERE the blueprint back in the day we cant ignore. would have dele and son as teammates but it'd only be for like half a season and then dele's arc gets DEPRESSING!!!!!!! it's like if pierre had been demoted to alpha tauri and then flopped there too and been demoted out of the series altogether. i do think richy and romero as opponents but also actual teammates era would leave them like ocon and perez bitchy tweets and all because there wouldn't be the need for getting along that they have rn and that's important to me.
sissoko is a FLOP like nicky latifi but arguably maybe worse, has one good season but just fully is not a good use of a seat but then he goes to a different obscure series i cant think of and does well because i said so and also i'd be sat at home rooting for him even as he finishes 3 laps down and calling him the GOAT. no wait it's like when he scores he gets a podium and i'd have passed out and filmed the ceremony like i was literally there.
winksy and international baby girl kinda scream "i was ripped off with the promise of an f1 seat by zak brown and all i got was this stupid t-shirt" and then stay in indycar or something
maguire drives for like fucking haas or something and you genuinely do not know what he'll do. he seemed fine, decent, good even in junior formula and got his big move to f1 and just lost the plot. he's either anonymous in races or is being a Menace but even in his quiet races there's always the anticipation that he'll smash into another driver just to make himself feel better. like there is Always the chance of a safety car or a red flag if he's starting either because he's crashed into someone else or just decided to take himself into the barriers. you don't want to drive against him because you don't want to blink and suddenly have DNF-ed because of him.... but he also might get a penalty that boosts you up the grid without puncturing all 4 of your tyres somehow so... swings and roundabouts
marco reus is one of those goated goated goated drivers maybe we'll say he's like a lifelong ferrari fan like he is bvb and he signs to their academy and does well in junior series and spends the odd season at sauber/alfa and when he gets to ferrari everyone's like oh shit here we go and then the car is absolute CRAP but he simply wont abandon ferrari. like he's there forever he's the ride or die for that stupid team and instead of injuries we'll say it's constant DNFs and so he never wins a championship but he's hands down one of the biggest what if drivers. he's also so kind to younger drivers and if he can guide them in any way to make sensible contract decisions and help them mentally not pin everything on winning championships then he will.
like i hate ferrari but dare i say then here comes jude bellingham starboy?..... no i shall. he wins f3 and f2 as rookies at a super duper young age (rather than skipping junior categories like a certain dutchman) and ends up in the sauber by the time he's 17, in the ferrari by 18 and teammates with marco. if the ferrari garage was competent and the car wasn't a pile shit it'd be embarrassing for other teams... sadly that isn't the case. they make the best out of a bad situation and the genuine talent both of them possess drags that team to places it shouldn't be. marco is coming to the end but still got it and while still competitive he'll retire before he has to find a lower team. very much a mentor to jude as he progresses in as much as you can be in an individualistic yet team based sport. think we still see jude's temper sometimes flare up though over his career he deffo gets a hold of it and he deffo calls his engineer fucking shit at one point for a bad strategy but i also think he's not content to stick with ferrari if they're going to be rolling the circus into town every week and unlike marco WOULD jump to merc if they suddenly started outperforming (anyway this got too close to real life so let's leave that there)
as much as i hate to say this about my best friend erling, he's giving me red bull driver vibes I'm so sorry to myself and also him.
WAIT i've only made players drivers lemme see if any would be good engineers. maybe it's just because every tom dick and harry says he's smart but like i DO see ben davies being a good engineer maybe he can be sonny's. or wait hang on maybe i make dier dele's engineer rather than teammate hang on wait no hang on let's do that instead. i know there's nothing but hot air and joe rogan quotes up there but i think that would actually be soooooooooo perfect.
conor coady and tyrone mings are absolutely engineers and they work on the same team just managing a driver each and the social media/marketing team is constantly bullied into releasing footage with them after people clock they're not only fit but also good mates. so it'll be a video with drivers being silly and then INSTANTLY the exact same video concept but with those two.
jordan pickford either engineer or deranged team principle that is good at his job but also calls someone the c word over the radio and causes the PR team a sleepless week trying to deal with it.
dare i say hugo is the dilfy team principal who leads his team to like 10 championships in a row? yes i will.
#couldnt figure out how to get some of the right back or starboy besties into this#also this is so long and also stupid I'm sorry#i feel like every idea here is kinda very dumb#let me say jude and gio were teammates in f2 together just to try and get gio in there#also feared my kwp or jadon plot could get depressing FAST so i left that out
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Anger – quick daily fix with music
See the most up-to-date version of this article here
You have probably already read how I deal with emotions so you will know I don’t take prisoners. When something comes up, I deal with it. The sooner the better.
Autie, know thyself
So, let’s quickly have a look at anger. I am going to discuss the day-to-day angry feeling we may get when someone jumps the queue, or is rude, or insensitive 😡. This method works well for this specific kind of instance. A few minutes of music non-therapy will work wonders to keep those outbursts at bay! 🙅🏽
If you have some more deep-rooted anger issue, there will be a post coming up soon about that! 💜
This is how I perceive anger. Anger is a complex emotion. It is a container for other, often conflicting, but also very powerful feelings 🌋. For me it is recognisable by two distinct strands:
Exuberant energy, and/or
Painful sadness
You may experience anger differently. If you do simply use the same strategy but adapt it to your personal flavour! 🧠
So, I will show you how I deal with each separately. Remember, the idea is of letting go 🏖️.
By knowing myself, I know which approach to use on each occasion. Although I have been known to change approach on occasions if one is not successful 😉.
This is the kind of thing that can be done in a park, while working out, or locked in your room 🤔. Whichever suits you best. If you, on occasions, find me bobbing my head in and around the local parks with a big smile on my face you’ll know I’m probably just practicing a little music self-therapy 😁.
These are the steps to take:
Choose whatever music is going to shake you to the core and fill you with the emotion you targeted ✅
As you gradually release whatever feeling it is, select happier and less emotional tunes ⏫
End with happy, intense, expressive tunes that will resonate in your head for a little after you switched off your “ghetto blaster” 🎚️
Resume your daily life knowing that you Love Yourself ❤️🔥
It really is this simple. Let’s see how I would take each path according to my own taste and preference, just in case it can help you identify your own practice 🧗.
Exuberant energy
So, let’s assume someone has upset you. Maybe they stepped on your foot. Or maybe they just looked at you annoyed because you exist.
In that case, the first thing I do, is to clearly declare my feelings openly:
You’re a fucking piece of shit
yes, I have been know to be a little expressive.
It is 2:42 so, I tend to play it 3-4 times on a loop, until I’m bored, really.
Once I get sick of it, I start switching to more relaxed lyrics
Everybody rave now
now, now, now, now, now, now …
Much more positive than the last song, right?
so I keep it up …
and then …
and on …
And some more …
And will keep going as long as necessary
180-220 bpm, sweat it out!
Eventually I will keep smiling. and life can resume!
Painful sadness
We are dealing with the same situation as in the next column. However, sometimes, if I am home, safe, and alone, I might opt to let out the sadness generated by the anger.
So, start with something like …
And you’re standing on the edge face up
‘Cause you’re a natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you’re a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you’re a natura
This definitely applies to whoever pissed me off …
https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/4VrWlk8IQxevMvERoX08iC?si=1e191b04622a4017&utm_source=oembedThen hang from the chandelier while drying the tears …
Singing from heartache from the pain
Taking my message from the veins
Speaking my lesson from the brain
Seeing the beauty through the
Pain!
Oh yeah, I’m feeling it … and some of this too …
https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/1JhuXhMiTBavuRXQTsGOdV?si=566fb84689bb489c&utm_source=oembed
Eventually, the vibes start to change
https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/3dYD57lRAUcMHufyqn9GcI?si=86ac4c77cd924882&utm_source=oembed
and then a bit more …
https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/0TDLuuLlV54CkRRUOahJb4?si=f6354989a9dd4a93&utm_source=oembed
and finally …
Quick fix of self-love with music self-therapy. Do you have some strategy to help you manage daily stresses? Share in the comments.
Find more information on developing adaptive coping mechanisms.
#Adaptive#CopingMechanisms#Emotions#LettingGo#Music#Psychology#Resilience#SelfAwareness#SelfLove#SelfManagement#SelfTherapy
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Update On This Bitch Ass MF
Alright, my brain is short circuiting, and I'm just screaming into the void rn so, update ahead, enter if you dare (update under cut cause it's a little liggity long)
So, you didn't know unless you were there during the "My computer didn't fucking work" era that started my big ol' hiatus, but I got a new computer (woo hoo! :D) and it was working perfectly. Emphasis on WAS. Turns out, living in the country, I'm too close to town to get to get rural wifi, which is fast as shit, and too far away to get town wifi, which is somehow even faster? Anyways, I knew of this problem when I moved into the house, but it's my family's homestead, I moved here when I was in highschool, yadiyadaya, no need for fast wifi just a couple years ago. HOWEVER! Now that I have a crazy good computer (I'm talking liquid cooled, built it myself, named it TheBeast) I need at least alright wifi, right? Well RECENTLY it's gotten WORSE! Somehow, it got worse than it already was! Which means, and keep in mind, I got petty enough to time it, but this delay in wifi has caused me to wait up to 14. WHOLE. MINUTES. Yes, you read that right: 1. 4. Obviously I'm not gonna just deal with that without, you know, being a little bitch. I have a new wifi provider that I'm going to be testing soon. Hopefully, cross your finger dear reader, I can stop waiting 14 minutes for my college work to load. Oh yeah, I got college stuff to do, specifically taking a creative class because I thought I was out of practice in writing. It's actually really helped! But, the topic, wifi, is that the new router should be here by Wednesday, and I should be able to test it out, maybe fix some errors and stuff that have been happening due to slow wifi.
So, wifi segment over. If you read this far, thanks. I really only made this because I'm frustrated af rn, so reading me type out my rage is something you didn't need to do, so thanks. BUT WAIT! THERE'S FUCKING MORE! (At least in the bad new segment, good news is at the very end, sorry!)
PAYDAY. 3. Hot topic right now, right? Well I had been tying to sign in for A FULL WEEK! SEVEN FUCKING DAYS! I did everything, like, legitimately everything, but caved at 4 days, and contacted the Nebula help line thing. Everyone was very nice, the costumer service was great, a tiny bit slow towards the end, but they had a good reason. I told them what was going on, they were very nice, accidently gave them the wrong Nebula Starbreeze account at first because I'm dyslexic as fuck, still very nice, much better than my conversation with like, the EA or Epic helplines (very long story), and eventually they got to the root of the problem. My problem was that it kept giving me a Nebula Data Configuration Error, every time I booted up the game. Tried everything, like I said earlier. They get to me 3 days after I told them all my special information and all the steps I took to try and troubleshoot on my own. You wanna know what they told me? Of course you do you've read this far. Let me preface this with the fact that I am just mad, and they were very polite about this, and the team is doing the best I can I'm absolutely sure, BUT THEY TOLD ME IT WAS SUCH A SPECIALIZED ERROR THEY NEEDED TO PATCH IT IN THE NEXT UPDATE! Now, I don't know if this was intentional, but they gave me the rough date for the update, but I don't know if it's the real big one everyone's waiting for, so I'm not going to tell you guys because I value their mysteriousness and don't want leak something that starbreeze was only telling me to let me know when to try and play the game again so that I can contact them if it didn't work. I don't know, it'd probably be super cool to be known as the user who knew when the update would come out, but it feels wrong to leak something like that if it is the correct date for the big update and stuff. So now I'm stuck, just listening to Gustavo Coutinho's fucking banner music for Payday 3 from youtube and not being able to watch the gameplay and stuff. And I heard there were cutscenes? CUTSCENES?! I am so excited to see those. WHEN I CAN PLAY THE GAME. (I feel like that one Fair Odd Parents meme omg)
Final update: Fun stuff!
Working on redesigning EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. That has ever left the recesses of my mind for an upcoming comic I'm gonna try and make, once the whole wifi situation is fixed. Working on the new chapter of The Golden Tempest (I almost posted this with it's "inside name" hehe, too bad you'll never know what the files are called), and working on From the Eyes of the Payday Gang, or at least trying to. I'm thinking of doing a grocery store worker at the grocery store the Payday gang all has to take turns going to the store but whole store knows that they're all like a family or some shit because they are all idiots and all use the same car because it's not in the fucking budget to get another car, so they have the escape van and the "family car" and that's it. Holy shit that was a weird lore tangent, but anyways, comic maybe coming, Payday related content definitely coming, some more surprises and goodies in the works, so expect this account to be much more active. Today is the first day off I've in I don't know how long, but a long time, and so just expect some text stuff from me, since my computer can't apparently handle doing anything on CSP because of the wifi situation. Sorry for the long post, have a wonderful day!
Real quick: SHOUT OUT TO THE MUTUAL DECPACEETOES! I DO NOT THINK I SPELLED THAT RIGHT! ALWAYS GOT MY BACK MAN!
(Bonus, if I do anything that involves my person life, I'll add the tag "You're creature speakith", so if you wanna see more of this in the future, follow the tag. Don't like it, never want to see it again, block that shit, I totally understand either way. All my funny or creative prompts will have my signature turtle smile on them. You know, this guy: :} Which is perhaps an homage to the TMNT fandom, or perhaps my herpetology nerd shining through, you will never know, will you?)
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hey!! im new to tumblr but i love your writing and i was wondering if you could do a request for me? basically the reader is assigned to share a dorm with someone in your university, but it so happens that your dorm mate is dream, but you both hate eachother. you can try working out how they start to get a long. it could be something like angry sex or some shit but idk, feel free to play around with it!!!
brat • dream smut
a/n : welcome to tumblr, anon !! so glad you like my writing, here you go :)
POV: first person
gn!reader
pronouns: they / them
gn!physiology
warnings: smut/nsfw, enemies to lovers, “sir”, degradation, very very VERY dom/sub, bottom!reader
University. It was most definitely a mixed bag; you shove your hand into it and have no clue what you’re gonna grab out of it. Was I gonna be sitting out on the grass with my new lifelong best friends, or was I gonna end up in miserable and making half-joking comments about how much I hate my life? I guess the answer ended up being neither, but something much more complicated.
I walked into my dorm room for the first time. It was pretty bare, both of the beds completely stripped of sheets, pillows, and blankets. I walked in, taking in the new environment that I was gonna be surrounded by for the next few months until my first break. ‘This looks... depressing,’ I thought, putting down my backpack as well as the suitcases full of all of my things. I began to unpack.
I heard a person come open the door to the room. “Hey, I’m Clay... I think you’re my roommate. You can call me Dream.” I spun around, looking at him. I simply nodded, not knowing what exactly to say.
“Uh, yeah, I’m [y/n].” I turned back to my clothes, letting the silence that was once there envelope the room once again. He tended to his side of the room as I tended to mine.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh god, he’s one of those people.’
“Uh, I mean I just don’t really know you yet.” I pulled my sheets out of one of the suitcases, unfolding them.
“That’s dumb, how are you gonna get to know me if you’re all quiet?” I ignored his question. I know that simply letting him talk will give me all of the information I need to know about him. “See, you don’t even know what to say, I’m right.” ‘Cocky much?’
“I don’t need to talk to you to know you.” I could almost feel his glare into the back of my head.
He scoffed, “No, you don’t need to talk to me to make assumptions. Tell me one thing you know about me.”
I turned around and looked at him. “First, people only show their good side, so I like to make my own observations of their behavior. For example, you’re cocky as fuck.”
He rolled his eyes, turning back to his bed to unpack his things. “Okay, then here’s my ‘observation’, you’re a bitch.”
“Okay, and you’re an asshole.” I retorted, childishly, before putting in my headphones and deciding to ignore him as much as possible. ‘Out of every fucking person I could be paired with... why him?’
-
I walked from the bus stop up the stairs of the dorm building and to my shared room with... him. Dream, as he told me to call him. As much as I hated his attitude and almost everything about his annoying personality, I had to admit that after a month I was coming around in a way. Maybe I didn’t find him completely unbearable, but I definitely still didn’t like him.
I entered the space and set my bag next to my desk. Dream was laying on his bed, looking at his phone. “Hey, I’m having like 3 friends over here tonight, so could you find a place to stay?” I looked at him, my expression dripping with ‘say deadass’.
“Uh, no? You can’t tell me things like this last minute, dude. This is my place, too,” I stated, letting the truth onto him. His attention darted from his phone to me.
“I can’t just cancel!” He exclaimed in defense.
“Yes you can, and you will! Reschedule it for another time.” He was silent, staring at me.
“Fine,” He mumbled after a moment of quiet. I turned to my desk, taking out my homework for the day and setting it down. I walked into our shared bathroom with some comfortable clothes and turned on the shower. Stripping off my clothing, I stepped in as soon as it was hot enough. I sighed in content, the steaming water caressing my body and relaxing my muscles.
After a bit of washing myself and relaxing, I turned off the water and stepped out onto the tile. As I changed into my clothes, I could hear Dream talking through the door, “They’re fucking annoying, man, but they’re hot so whatever, I guess.” My eyes widened as he spoke. ‘...me?’
I can’t say that I never found him hot. He’s tall, broad shoulders, pretty green eyes... who wouldn’t be attracted to him? He’s hot, but he’s a dumbass, and I think that’s the only thing that was stopping me from pursuing him.
I walked out after I finished drying my hair, bringing the blonde boy’s attention to me. “I gotta go, talk to you later,” He rushed out, hanging up in a hurry. I quirked a brow at him in confusion.
“What was that about?” I asked, taking a seat at my desk.
“Had to cancel. Nothin’ else.” I chuckled at his attempt to not share much.
“So who’s this hot but annoying person you were talking about?” I questioned, my eyes changing course to look at his face.
His cheeks flared up, his freckled skin turning pink. “Don’t listen in on my phone conversations, bitch,” He said harshly.
I stood up. “Excuse me? Listen, I already told you to stop talking to me like that-”
“You’re so hot when you look like that,” He interrupted me. Now it was my turn to start blushing.
“L-Like what?” I asked, half mumbling.
“When you get all worked up. That’s why I like bothering you so much.” I was stuck in my spot, unsure of what to say to that. The thought of Dream finding me hot was so insanely flustering for whatever reason, and it never occurred to me until that moment.
He got up, walking over to me. I looked up and into his eyes. “Sometimes, when you make me really mad, I think about slamming you into your mattress,” He said, quietly, making the rasp in his voice stick out. “And just taming you... because you’re just such a brat, sometimes.” My breath got caught in my throat, I felt like I couldn’t even speak. “Sometimes a brat needs to be put in their place, don’t you think?” I nodded. “Use your words.”
“I, uh- yes, sir,” I stuttered out. A smirk pulled at his lips, and his hand made it’s way up to my cheek, cupping my face. He slowly pushed his thumb between my lips, causing me to start sucking it. He pulled it out, my mouth releasing it with a quiet ‘pop’.
“Get on your knees, angel.” I obeyed immediately and got down on my knees. “You wanna undo my belt?”
I nodded, eagerly. “Yes, please?” He nodded, humming an ‘mhm’. I bit my lip as I undid his belt before unbuttoning his jeans. I glanced up at his face before unzipping them as well and pulling them down. I could see the outline of his hard-on through his boxers. I slowly and softly palmed him over the thin material, eliciting a low, quiet moan.
“Take them off, sweetheart.” I nodded and pulled down his underwear, his cock springing up due to the sudden freedom. I licked the palm of my hand before wrapping it around his shaft and slowly moving it up and down. I looked up at his face, seeing his lip between his teeth as I touched him.
“Can I use my mouth, sir?” I asked him, even though I already know the likely answer.
He nodded, “Mhm, use your mouth.” I softly licked the tip of his member before wrapping my lips around it, sucking lightly. I started bobbing my head, taking more of him in my mouth every time I went back down. “Do you think you can deep-throat me, angel?”
I nodded. “C-Can I do that, sir?” He nodded, his hand making it’s way into my hair. I slowly started to take more of him in my mouth, eventually getting to the point of him hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little but pushed through it. I continued to take as much as I could down my throat, Dream softly fucking my face.
“Just like that, baby,” He groaned as I continued to bob my head. He pulled a bit on my hair, sending heat down between my legs. He pulled my head off of his dick by my hair, a string of spit bridging the gap. “Get on the bed, safe word is puppy.” I nodded and jumped up off of the floor and onto my bed.
He yanked my sweatpants down, pulling down my underwear with it. I pulled my shirt over my head and he did the same to himself. “You want my cock, baby? Look at how turned on you are.”
I let out a soft moan as he rubbed me right where I needed it. “I want it so bad, sir, please..” I begged. He bit his lip before pulling a bottle of lube out of his dresser.
“Get on your stomach, I’m gonna fuck your pretty little hole from behind.” Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I followed his directions. I could hear the slippery liquid being drizzled and spread all over his cock, it only made me want him more.
He slowly pushed into me, making a moan uncontrollably escape my lips. “Fuck...” I whispered.
“Yeah, you like feeling all full, don’t you? Such a fuckin’ whore for me,” He teased slowly moving with my permission. He gradually sped up, the two of us letting out moan after moan, the sound of our skin colliding being the only other sound filling the room. “You’re such a goddamn brat,”
“I... I know, sir... please- please don’t stop!” His hand made it’s way into the roots of my hair, pulling it, making it hurt so perfectly.
“Yeah? Don’t stop?” He asked, breathlessly as he started going faster. “I’m not gonna stop, angel.” I bit my lip, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as he pounded into me.
I touched myself as he fucked me, making everything feel double as good. “S...s-sir, I-I’m gonna... D-Dream, please!” I let out incoherent sentences.
“Aw, look, you can barely talk. Come on, sweetheart, cum for me like a good little slut.” The knot in my stomach fell apart as he spoke, a loud moan leaving my body once again. He let me ride out my high before pulling out and stroking himself and releasing all over my back. I bit my lip as I felt the warm liquid hit my skin.
He laid down beside me. “What do we say?” He asked, teasingly.
I giggled. “Thank you, sir.”
#dream team smut#dream#dreamwastaken#dream team#mcyt#dream smut#dream x reader#mcyt smut#mcyt x reader#fanfic#imagines#one shot#request#anon
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Anything Goes {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}
anonymous (half of their request):
I think the world needs a Maurizio x Studio 54 fic 👀
author’s notes: hello, hello! YES, I think we need this...and now we have it! thanks for sending it in <3 I really enjoyed researching a bit and whipping up this piece! a special thanks to @babbushka for being the resident Studio 54 expert!
Mauri isn’t as ‘soft’ here as he is when I write him usually, but I honestly loved exploring this sort of ‘wild side’.
warnings: smut. porn with some plot. masquerade. I think Studio 54 is a warning of its own. dancing. grinding. p in v. unprotected sex. fluff at the end.
(possible) tw’s: some alcohol consumption. cigarette smoking (canon for character). (!!) implied infidelity/extramarital sex. public sex. (!!)
word count: 2.46k
terms to know
Bellissima means ‘beautiful’ in Italian (an affectionate nickname).
Dio means ‘God’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece).
Cristo means ‘Christ’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece).
Cazzo means ‘fuck’ in Italian (used as an exclamation in this piece).
maurizio’s taglist peeps! @icarusinthesea @eagerforhoney
my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie
(if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)
Muffled tunes bump from the concrete walls as you and your small group of friends walk past the blocks-long line. You flash your Gucci company ID to the bouncer, who lets you in immediately, getting a few envious mutters and groans from the line-goers.
Studio 54 is the place to be these days and luckily for you, working at the House of Gucci’s New York branch gets you premiere access, since the CEO is a huge investor in the club.
Tonight’s a masquerade theme, so all patrons are wearing a variety of different masks, from whole-face masks to only eye masks. But, each was very much their own, a sea of colors and sequins and feathers as their wearers stride about.
You’re clad in a risqué disco getup, wearing a metallic silver tube top and matching skirt with some small heels that you’re sure you’ll tire of rather quickly. But Studio 54, from what you’ve heard, is all about the looks, the glitz and the glamour. Your eye mask is made to match tonight’s look as well as resemble cat-eye glasses, black with small silver wings coming off the pointed edges.
Your winter coat is checked and then you head up to the dance floor, music getting louder and louder as you ascend the staircase. Your breasts bounce a bit with each step, nipples peering out from beneath the silver fabric. Studio 54 is known for its ‘anything goes’ rule, and you fully intend on taking advantage of that freedom tonight.
It’s jam-packed, just as you’d expected it to be, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding together in a large group on the floor. The stale air is hazy with cigarette smoke, smells of sex and drugs linger all throughout the thick, humid air. Your senses are overwhelmed while at the same time aroused by the sights and smells of Studio 54.
While your friends head over to the bar to grab drinks, you head right onto the dance floor, beginning your night of wild, passionate fun. A few guys come and grind with you for a few minutes or so, but they leave shortly after. Your eyes peer through the holes in your mask, lingering over the talent standing at the sides of the floor, scouting and waiting to devour their scantily-clad prey.
Your gaze pauses on a man leaning against one of the pillars, lighting up a cigarette. He looks in stark contrast to all other club-goers who sport the metallic, the feathers, the sequins, the avant-garde. He’s so abnormally normal with his crisp, classy 007-type tuxedo. His chestnut brown hair drapes down to just below the brilliant white collar of his button-up, neatly moussed and styled. He’s disguised by a bright white half-face mask, making him appear almost ghoulish when paired with his handsomely pale skin.
His eyes suddenly dart over to meet yours and your cheeks heat up as you look away, biting your lip softly. He smirks, taking a drag off his cigarette before heading over to the bar. He’s going to need some courage juice in him before he approaches you.
The night wears on and you start to get a bit discouraged. You’re still having fun, of course, you just wish that it was going more according to your fantasy and imagination. Perhaps you should head to another club, see if you fare better there.
Deciding in favor of checking out other hotspots in the area, you begin to make your way off to the side back towards the door. Suddenly, a set of large, strong hands slide onto your waist and pulls you back, forcing you to collide with a large body. The scent of expensive cigarettes enveloping you as he steps up behind you and goosebumps instantaneously erupt down your arms as the tall man leans down, lips now at your ear.
“Ciao, bellissima.”
His voice is slightly husky and thick with Italian origin, alcoholic breath hot on your skin.
“The party’s out here on the floor, not down at coat check.”
You chuckle.
“It seems that no one wants to party with me for more than five minutes tonight. I was gonna try my luck at another club.”
He pulls you back a bit further against him.
“Well then, it’s lucky I caught you. I’d be just kicking myself if I missed the chance to dance with a beauty like you.”
“I think you overestimate my talents, sir.”
You’re wondering if this is a dream, something to cope with the real-life disappointment of the night.
The man chuckles, running his nose along the side of your neck and inhaling your sweet perfume.
“And I think you underestimate your talents, miss.”
A slower, more sensual song begins to play through the speakers and you reach up to wrap your hand around the back of your unknown dance partner’s neck, keeping him down near your head.
“Let’s find out who’s right, then, shall we?”
His grin is obvious, even though you can’t see him.
“Yes, let’s.”
You start by leaning back against him, simply feeling out the slow and steady rhythm of the beat. You’ve never felt so relaxed, so carefree before and it feels really, really nice. He drops his hands from your hips, but sways along with you, trying to keep his lips away from your up-done hair.
He ends up having a few of your hairs catch on his plush lips a few minutes later, causing him to have to try spitting them out subtly and quietly.
It doesn’t work.
You laugh softly and he blushes, chuckling awkwardly along with you.
“Sorry about that. You must’ve caught some of my flyaways.”
“Yes, it seems that way. I feel guilty for ruining the mood, though.”
His nose nudges at your temple, hands coming back up to hold your hips as he senses your motions grow a bit quicker.
“Don’t. I’m sure we can manage to bring it back to what we had before. In fact, I think we can make it even better.”
Your hips begin to circle back against him at a more aggressive rate of speed, moving the fabric of his dress slacks all over his hardening crotch. His breath is shaky as it comes out through his nose, fingers digging a bit tighter into the flesh of your hips.
The humid air practically suffocates the two of you as the other patrons dance all around, causing a slick sheen to quickly cover your skin, the roots of your hair soaking through steadily. Your fingers gently massage his scalp as his lips move and suck red marks into your tender skin that’ll surely turn purple by the end of the night.
Soon, he begins experimentally rolling his pelvis in time with your motions, grunting against your neck at the sensations this new move is creating. He’s almost fully hard beneath his suit slacks by now, already planning out how he’s gonna get with you tonight. Patrizia doesn’t have to know about this.
“So, are you ever gonna let me see you, mystery man?”
You ask, chuckling.
He blushes beneath the mask. He’s extremely hesitant to let you see him, an instinct born of being in the spotlight since youth. But then he remembers, he’s in America and he has a mask on.
His hands pull away from you and a small kiss placed on your exposed shoulder.
“Look upon me, then, bellissima.”
Suddenly gripped with nerves, you turn around slowly and look up. He’s handsome; the epitome of men, warm brown hair and endearing ocean blue eyes. His gazes roam your masked appearance in a similar manner, relieved that you don’t seem to recognize him. A sudden feeling of familiarity washes over you as your eyes meet once more.
“Your eyes, your gaze...they’re familiar to me. Is there a chance we’ve crossed paths before?”
His nostrils flare in fear, eyes going wide for a moment. A soft, cautious breath leaves his lips and he shakes his head quickly.
“No, it’s not likely. I’ve been told I have one of those faces, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. That’s probably it.”
You step back up to him, hands smoothing over his broad chest.
“Now, where were we?”
“Hmm, I think it was...”
Maurizio smirks, leaning down so that his lips hover just above yours.
“Right about here, if I recall correctly.”
Pressing yourself up on your toes, you connect your lips to his just as the last of his sentence passes through his velvety pink lips. Your arms snake up around the back of his neck, fingers toying with the rich brown locks. They certainly won’t be so neatly styled when you’re finished with him tonight, that much you’re sure of.
He smiles against your lips, stepping up a bit closer to you, body now pressing right up against yours. The two of you remain that way until he pulls away softly, breathing slightly heavy as his eyes look over your face.
“Can I take you upstairs? To the uh, balcony, perhaps?”
Oh, you’ve heard plenty of things about the balcony and the heat has already begun to pool in your loins. You nod, a small but devious grin stretching across your face.
“Absolutely. Lead the way, handsome.”
The two of you make your way towards the staircase, dodging and weaving through the crowds of dancing drag queens, salacious skaters, carefree celebrities and various other perky patrons.
“Do I get to learn your name before we reach the balcony?”
His breath hitches.
“Mauri, you can call me Mauri.”
Your brows furrow slightly. You’ve never heard a name like that before, but maybe it’s some kind of nickname.
“Mauri, got it. I’m Y/N.”
Y/N. A beautiful name, fit for a beautiful woman.
He smiles and nods, guiding you up to the balcony. When you arrive, there are already plenty of people inhabiting the space, all in various stages of either sex, undress or getting high.
This is definitely where a majority of the sex smell downstairs is originating from.
Mauri keeps his head tilted downwards and you swear you can see a bit of a blush on his cheeks as he takes you over to a relatively secluded corner. He undoes his belt quickly, sloppily kissing you as he does so.
You gasp sharply into his mouth when he suddenly scoops you up and slams you against the wall, lips working your neck while his hands free his hardened arousal from where it’s trapped beneath the restrictive suit fabric.
Your skirt is promptly pushed up to rest on your hips, your panties are pushed to the side, and Mauri’s cock is sheathing itself inside you before you can even process it.
“Ohhh christ.”
His jaw slacks against your neck, eyes squeezing shut while his hot breath spreads over your taut skin. Goosebumps erupt where the invisible warmth falls.
“Dio.”
He stays still for a moment, then buries his face into the crook of your neck before his hips begin to move. There’s nothing slow or intimate about what the two of you are doing, it’s carnal. It’s sloppy and rough, the sweat mingling especially where your skin is pressed against his.
The smell of sex that permeates around you only makes the whole experience that much more arousing. Your eyes looking around the room to see other couples getting off, shuddering and whining as you make eye contact with a young woman currently getting fucked on the ground. Your insides clench around him instinctively, earning you a small grunt while your hand takes hold of his silky brown locks.
“You’re tight, cristo, so hot and slick for my cock.”
Your head falls back against the wall with an audible clunk sound and you cringe in acute pain for a quick moment, but the pure lust and hunger flowing through you provides the adrenaline needed to ward off the pain. It’ll surely be sore come dawn, but really, you couldn’t care less at the moment.
“So big, Mauri, fucking me so good.”
Mauri fucks you harder, then, crooked teeth scraping against the taut flesh of your neck, panting softly. You reach down into the humid space between your bodies until your fingertips find the engorged bud nestled neath folds of delicate flesh.
A wet sound soon emerges from between your legs as your fingers swipe back and forth over your clit quickly, bringing yourself right up to the edge within only a minute or two.
He grunts into your neck, pace rapidly devolving into one that’s erratic and desperate, shaft pulsing under the tight grip of your insides. His breathing grows quick and shallow, hands pushing at your spread legs to push them further into a spread eagle position.
“Where do you want it?”
You moan along with his motions, pitch heightening slightly with each of his powerful thrusts.
“Fuck, I--”
Suddenly, you’re thrown over the edge, a powerful orgasm hitting you like a truck. An avalanche of pleasure rolls over your body, nerves buzzing with warm feelings of release. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, lips near his ear to catch the chorus of whimpers, whines and little mewls that leave your lips.
“M-Mauri.”
His brows crease, knitting in the center of his forehead as he fucks you through it, finding it a nearly impossible feat to stave off his own climax, but he manages.
“Cazzo, I--wheredoyouwantit?”
He’s barely holding on, now.
“Outside, a-anywhere.”
Balls pulling up, Mauri moans and pulls out quickly, just as the first thick rope of creamy release spatters onto your fleshy inner thighs. A long, shaky groan leaves his lips before he crashes them onto yours to muffle the rest of his sounds.
You move with him, lips liquid with his, fluid motions so effortless that you’d think the union was one entity. He pulls away from your lips slowly, then out of your tingling cunt, a smile on his face the whole way along.
“I apologize for the mess, bellissima.”
He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes the creamy liquid from your thighs before helping pull your skirt back down.
“There we go.”
You offer him a small smile, biting your lip as the unsureness of what to do next takes over. After a moment, you clear your throat, chuckling softly.
“I’m not really sure what to do next, if I’m completely honest.”
“Me neither.”
His cheeks, of what you can see of them behind the mask, turn a shade of pink.
“How about I buy you a drink at the bar? That seems like a good place to start.”
Your lips instantly curve upwards into a smile and you offer him a soft nod.
“A drink would be great.”
#mrs-gucci#mrs-gucci requests#mrs-gucci writes maurizio gucci#house of gucci#house of gucci film#house of gucci (2021)#house of gucci fanfiction#gucci fanfic#maurizio gucci#adcu#adcu fanfiction#adcu fanfic#adcu writer#adcu author#maurizio gucci smut#maurizio gucci x reader#maurizio x reader#maurizio gucci x you#maurizio x you#maurizio smut#tw: infidelity#tw public sex#adam driver#adam driver character#adam driver smut#adam driver fanfic#adam driver fanfiction#adam driver fandom
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Nightmares
A bit of spoilers, as long as your caught up with the anime and have watched season 3 you should be fine.
A BIT OF CONTENT TO THE STORY: Bakugou and Reader aren't really dating yet but are interested in each other. The reader is Izuku's sister so she has known Bakugou since childhood.
First time writing a oneshot. Please enjoy. No stealing my work, please.
_____________________________________________________________
In the middle of the night, my peaceful slumber was interrupted by someone kicking my legs. I whimpered a bit not wanting to get up, but the movement in the bed didn’t stop. Suddenly the person next to me shot up, they started panting trying to catch their breath. My eyes shoot open trying to figure out who was next to me.
I turn my head a bit, spotting a bit of blonde-looking hair in the dark and a well-built body. ‘Katsuki… oh that's right we fell asleep while studying.’ I thought, closing my eyes again, resting back down.
Once Katsuki caught his breath I felt his hand brush my forehead shakingly when a small crackle was heard. ‘His Quirk?’ He shot up from bed and started looking for something in my room.
“Shit, shit, shit, where the fuck is that fuck ass wipe?” He said in a low voice. I sit up spotting the ash-blonde run around my room, looking for the towel he came in with. He grabbed the towel from the table and wiped his hands. He was still cursing under his breath.
“Katsuki?” I say calling out to him.
I stared at his back as he stopped wiping his hands, he looked at his hands then over his shoulder to me. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” He says in a soothing voice. Though it nearly put me to sleep again, something about his voice stopped me.
Opening my eyes that I didn’t realize were close. “Bakugou, tell me what's wrong?” I told him in a tired voice. I swear I saw his body tense up as he looked towards my bedroom door. “Nothings fucking wrong just go back to sleep. I’m going to go back to my room so you’ll have your bed to yourself again. This was a fucking bad idea, so jus-”
“How long?” I asked, I knew he was playing an escape root. Something happened, whatever it was he wanted to hide, and I had a feeling I knew what it was. “What!?!” he asked, turning his head to me.
His red eyes glared sharply at mine, I almost want to hide under the covers instead. “You're having nightmares aren’t you?” I asked him. His body tensed and his face just turned angrier than before.
“I’m not having a fucking nightmare! Who the fuck do you think you're dealing with? A child? I’m not a fucking baby (Y/n) I don’t get fucking-.” He scolded me, but I cut him off. “Everyone has nightmares Katsuki! We all have fears! We’re human, we have flaws, it's a thing that happens all the time!” I say to him, lowering my voice at the end cause it was the middle of the night.
I couldn’t see him clearly but I could tell he was shaking. “I-I don’t- It’s not a nightmare okay. I may be human but I’m not a fucking pathetic weakling.”
I look at him, a sigh falls from my lips. “I…” I started but then paused before continuing. “I have nightmares at times,” I say, admitting my fault. “About the sludge villain, about failing, and about the incidents with the villains. When you were taken away, I had nightmares, I panicked. Am I weak and pathetic because of that?” I asked looking down at the bedsheets, my arms were crossed for comfort.
There was silence before Katsuki answered. “No, you're not,” he says, placing the towel in his hands down onto the chair. I felt his eyes burn into my body, it was silent again. “Then why does it make you?”
I heard him groan as he clenched his fist. “This isn’t about me,” he says sharply. I looked at the sheets not wanting to meet his eyes. “But it is, how am I supposed to be here and support you if you won’t tell me what's going on with you. Katsuki I can't be by your side like you want and just not know a thing. I need you to tell me.” I say my eyes started to water. I tried my best to hold it back.
His body started to shake. “I’m fucking fine, I don’t need you to get in my goddamn business!” In anger rose my voice letting it all out. “Then what am I here for? Just to have around? To sit there, look pretty, smile, and act like it's okay? Because if that's what I’m supposed to do then I want no part of this.” Tears ran down my face and my voice cracked at the end a lot. I tried to stop myself from crying, but it was proving to be difficult. Why wouldn't he just talk to me?
I heard the floor creak as I tried to wipe my tears. I was pulled into a hug by strong arms, one around my waist and the other on my head. I continued to cry as Katsuki held me. “What do you want from me? What am I supposed to be to you?” I asked him in tears.
He lifted my head up cupping it with both hands, his thumbs wiping and tears. He leaned forwards and kissed my forehead. Before putting his forehead on top of mine. His red ruby eyes gazed into mine as I held tightly to his t-shirt.
“Be my everything.”
It was all he had to say to make me crumble at his touch, he pulled me closer onto his lap. One arm around my waist as the other was on my face. I held that hand there, kissing onto it then rubbing my face onto it, falling in love with the warmth it created. His thumb rubbed circles again on my cheek.
“Be my fucking everything, the damsel I have to fucking rescue, my hero to fucking recuse me.” I laughed when he said that, but he just continues. “Correct me when I’m wrong, cheer me on when I’m fucking right. Help me when I’m about to give up, be there for me when I don’t. Put up with me when I’m a jerk, and let me put up with you when you're stubborn. Make me laugh, share moments like this with me. Tell me it's okay to be scared when I am… like I am right now.”
My eyes widened as he admitted his secret to me. I let go of his hand and cupped his face to see his eyes better. The ruby eyes showed me no lies, it showed me that yes indeed he was scared, but this time willing to share. A sigh fell from his lips as he closed his eyes for a brief moment to push his pride away before meeting my eyes again.
“Yes, I had a nightmare about the sludge villain. I couldn’t breathe and he was holding me back from getting to you. The fire fuck dude had you, he was burning you until you were in pain and that blonde bitch was stabbing you. And the other fucking hand guy just kept saying ‘should have joined us when you fucking had the chance. How can you be a hero if you can’t save yourself or her?’” He started to shake again, terrified of reliving his dream.
“Katsu.” I say grabbing his hand that had fallen to my shoulders before placing it over my heart. “I’m right here, Katsu. I won’t leave if I don’t have to. I know you’ll protect me.” But he pulled his hand away from me, tears gathered in his eyes. “But what if I can’t? What then?” he asked me, looking at me through his tears.
“Your human Katsu, you can’t always save everyone. You won’t always save everyone, but you will always be number one in my heart. It doesn’t matter anyway, what matters is right now. You and me being together right now, is all that matters.” I say with a smile. I knew I couldn’t tell him a lie. He was too smart and he knew the truth. I just had to remind him of the present moment.
Tears fell from his eyes as he just nodded then bared his head into my neck. I felt tears land on my neck as I rub his back and my fingers get lost in his soft fluffy hair. I felt us start to lean back then we fell onto the bed. “Ah Baku, my bed,” I say worried about him accidentally breaking it.
“Shut up and go the fuck to sleep.” I smile as I play with his hair, he wasn’t leaving me tonight, and all was better now. I slowly fell to sleep when I felt Katsu lift his head and kiss my cheek.
“(Y/n)?” he called out to me. “Yes?” I asked him. “What am I to you?” he asked me. Being tired and in the middle of sleep, I answer back.
“My jerky, cussing, childhood friend, that I had a crush on, that I also hated for nearly all my life. Now I’m waiting for you to ask me to be your girlfriend. To sum up everything, my crappy everything. Now go to sleep.” I say, it came out drowsy and tried but he got his answer. He smiled ear to ear, feeling high and mighty. He didn’t even care about the other half of the answer. He was your crappy everything.
“So that means you love me right?”
“Yes,” you answer without a second thought.
“I’m the fucking best?”
“Yes.” He smiles and basically screams/celebrates in his head.
“Am I better than Deku?” He asked with a smirk on his face.
“.....”
He glared at your silent form, he noticed that you were asleep. He blushes as he realizes that 1. You're cute when you're asleep, 2. You were in his arms and 3. You still didn’t answer the question. He nudged his nose on your face not wanting to unwrap his arms. You groan a bit but open your eyes slightly.
“Am I better than Deku?” He asked again, wanting an answer from you.
“Yes.” He cheered in his head. “But only by a bit…. and I’m better than both of you.”..... Wait, what? But before he could correct you, you were back to sleep. This time he didn’t bother you and closed his eyes pulling you in closer.
________________________________________
Izuku then walked up to your door early in the morning to ask you if you wanted to run some laps before starting today. Only find your door wide open with Kirishima and Ochaco standing there with their phones.
“Um… what are you two doing in my sister's room?” they both turn around. Ochaco blushed but before she could answer Kirishima got to it first. “See for yourself.” Izuku stepped into the room more, he stopped once he saw Katsuki and you. He paused for a moment to take what was in front of him.
At first, Kirishima thought that maybe his bro didn’t have Izuku’s approval, Ochaco was praying that Izuku would let you date Katsuki because she really shipped you and him. But then Izuku pulled out his phone and took some pictures before walking towards the door pushing the other two out.
“Um... Izuku, Katsuki didn’t do anything wrong I swear. Both of their clothes are still on and Bakugou wouldn’t touch her in her sleep. That isn’t manly.” Kirishima said worried as they were being pushed out so Izuku could yell at them. Ochaco looked at Izuku clearly confused as well. “Deku-kun?”
Izuku finishes pushing them out then closes the door keeping all three of them out. He just smiles at them. “Let’s give them time. I'll come back and check on them after my morning jog. They both should be up by then.” He says walking towards the elevator. Ochaco looked at him. “But Deku-kun, what about the pictures you took?” she asked.
“Oh those, I’m sending them to mom and saving them to put them in the (ship name) memory book.” He smiles as he gets into the elevator, he looks at them. “Would you like to see the pictures I collected so far?” Kirishima nodded and followed Izuku while Ochaco was amazed. Izuku was completely okay with this.
“Wait? How long have you been shipping them?” There was silence between them before Izuku pressed the close door button. “Not that long. Maybe since kindergarten?” he answers as the doors close.
“What? Izuku!?!”
#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou fluff#first writing#bhna bakugou#boko no hero academia#mha#bnha#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha katsuki#katsuki x y/n#x reader#katsuki x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou imagine#katsuki#bakugou
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warnings: miya atsumu x female!reader, you guys are fwbs, 1.2K words of fluff and little smut, vaginal fingering, boob sucking and uh how do I tag this, lol.
wrote this last night when my boob hurts like shit because I’m on my period and I was really horny, take care of your boobs ladies because atsumu won’t be there to take care of yours. Read the article here!
"My boob hurts" you say, left hand clutching at your right boob, pressing your warm palms with extra pressure at your fingers to ease the pain.
Atsumu, your. What do we call him.
Your sex partner, company at lonely nights, sometimes lunch buddy when work gets overbearing and sometimes your grocery runner when you got too lazy to put on your bras and better-looking pants to buy a box of cereal, yours and Atsumu favourite.
It should be just you enjoying that cereal but Atsumu, who's enjoying the sexcapade, as he jokingly said one time when he wants to be inches deep buried inside you, said that the cereal wasn't too bad when soaked with the right type of milk. So you have to share it with him as long as he helps you with stuff you might need help with.
One of the help is probably comfort for a work-obsessed woman in her early 20s when she felt a bit lonely. You, it's you who we're talking about.
"What was that?" Atsumu, whose face is buried in the pillow he claimed was his now, result of visiting too frequently for the 'sexcapade', is now pulled up to face you.
You side-eyed and saw him smirking like a piece of shit he always is because he loves to tease you and flirt with you despite the boundaries he set on his own, not that you disagree but sometimes, you take it as a challenge that will make you say 'fuck' when steps are at disarray.
"I said my boob hurts." You glared at him now. Expecting him to tackle you and have him drape his whole naked body on you by now.
"You're on your period?" Atsumu asked, face now covered in concern.
"Um no, I finished a week ago, probably the ovulation or something." You whimpered at the growing pain near your armpit, hand sliding under your shirt, well, his shirt, to massage and fondle it on your own, releasing a little moan you hoped he might notice just so he can get a hint.
"Let me check." You closed your eyes to wait for his pretty setter fingers to trail on your abdomen, his favourite non-sexual thing to do just to make you laugh on one of your sad days.
His hand didn't come at all, and you opened your eyes to see him scrolling the Internet, presumably to have answers to his and your question.
Why do women's boobs hurt?
You scoffed and smacked at his biceps, but still managed to heave a small giggle at his question all while sliding close to his warm body, pressing your side at him while bending your legs to brush your toes at his calves.
"You could have typed 'is it normal for a woman's chest to hurt' instead of saying boobs like a pervert, you dumbass!" You quote unquote so he could get the message.
"I do not have women's boobs, and mine doesn't hurt. Just helping you, princess."
Atsumu gasped when he saw an article from Healthline.
"Ah look, an article from Healthline, your favourite old hag magazine site." Atsumu teased, his giggles resonating too loud all the way to your eardrums and the erratic beating of your chest, the pain in your right boob slowly subsiding.
"This old hag magazine site saved your clumsy ass when you bruised your head the other day." You retorted, head still inclined to read the article he clicked.
"Whatever, I know first-aid better than you. Ah look there's a lot of causes." Atsumu mocked you, using his sexy fingers to pinch at your cheeks, earning a loud 'ouch' from you.
"Hm, it said here 'hormonal fluctuations, you might have the pain either 2 or 3 days before your menstruation or the entire time during your cycle' yeah. Other causes might be puberty, pregnancy and menopause" Atsumu read.
You paused.
"You're...not pregnant are you?" Atsumu turned to his side to look at your surprised face, expecting a quick answer from you.
"No. I don't— I don't think so?" Atsumu pushed his arms on the bed to lift himself up and you turned your body so you could lay down properly.
"Did you check? We haven't had protected sex for a long time so I'm just curious." Atsumu seated himself properly on the bed, one of his hands finally reached to your abdomen under the double-barrier that is your huge comforter and his shirt to draw shapes and do belly rubs.
"I'm pretty sure I'm not...I don't have early symptoms….and I'm very strict with my pills, mind you." you sighed, hands reaching for your locks to brush your own hair for reassurance.
"Okay, I believe in you" Atsumu smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. His fingers travelled to your jawlines, to your reddening cheeks, to the sore lips you had after the earlier makeout session on your couch.
Atsumu finally hovered above you, hands grasping at every detail of your beautiful face, slowly trailing down to your hips.
"Your boob still hurts?" You giggled at his smile.
"It hurts less than before. I think it's just being dramatic, needing some attention perhaps."
You sucked in an air when his expression darkens, changed to the familiar animalistic side of Atsumu that could make you scream in pleasure.
"I'll give it the attention it wants then" Atsumu pulled the comforter in a haste and undressed you, desperate to see you naked.
Atsumu and his, rather respectful demeanors to not delve in too quickly is what made you clung to him, never wanting to let go.
"Are you sure it's okay?" Atsumu asked and you nodded eagerly. Atsumu kissed you, both of your hands pinned to the bed, trapping you under his large muscular body.
It turned hot in a second, his lips neglected yours to prioritise the situation at hand, his hands, now that he let go of one of your hands so he could fondle and tweak your left nipples while sucking on the right boob, the root problem.
Though, you would call it a blessing.
"Ngh— Atsu...please just fuck me" you gasped in small breath, feeling your folds getting wet by his hot body venturing yours.
Atsumu didn't waste time to descend his wandering fingers to explore your caverns, hitting right to the spot that he knows will make you cum quickly.
He's practically making out with your nipple, pulling slightly to gain a reaction and sometimes pressing on your clit with his rough thumb to earn another wanton scream out of your mouth.
His finger went inside and out and your hands scrambled to grip at his biceps to steady yourself, legs dipping your bed before you reach your peak, cumming on his fingers.
Atsumu plopped at your side and you creeped your way inside his hold, as you usually did when the sex ended.
"Your boob hurts and then it leads to me fingering you huh?" You hid your face in his chest, blushing at the earlier activity you did. Atsumu giggled and rubbed at your back while he hugs you.
"Tomorrow morning my dick will hurt, so you better think of a way to make it feel better when you sleep, hm?" You glared at him.
"Yes sir, I will. Goodnight Atsumu, my head hurts, by the way". You put a finger to his face.
Atsumu kissed your forehead and lulls you to sleep. "Goodnight princess" you heard his snores right after.
You won't mind if your boobs hurt in the future, Atsumu and a Healthline article would help solve your problem
#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu smut#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu fluff#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!!#Miya Atsumu
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The Chase - One Shot
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Rating: explicit
Word Count: 5k
Summary: You bet Mando you could last two hours on the run without him catching you. Reluctantly, he agrees to the bet.
Warnings: outdoor (rough & unprotected) sex, hunter and hunted type of vibe, mild choking, being gagged, size kink, mando talks a lot during sexy time, maybe slight dom/sub mentions?
A/N: this is just my take on the whole “bounty hunter and quarry” fantasy. also I basically wrote the smut and then added context around it. this is pretty much shameless smut ///
*Masterlist can be found here**
--
It started out as innocent banter.
“I definitely think I could last a couple days,” you told him, slouching in the passenger seat inside the cockpit.
The modulator scoffed at you. “No.”
“Are you doubting my skills?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.
He swiveled his chair around to face you. “That’s not it.”
“Then tell me what it is, Mando.”
Even though you weren’t able to see what his expression was, you could tell by his body language that he was getting annoyed. The way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way he leaned his body back in the chair—something he did every time you tried to rile him up about something. Despite the fact that he hid behind the beskar, he was generally easy to read whenever he was irritated.
“I bet I can last two days.”
“You wouldn’t last two hours, let alone two days.”
Now that was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from. Anytime someone told you that you couldn’t do something, it scratched that itch inside you to do that exact thing. Your incessant need to prove people wrong sometimes got the best of you, but Maker, the satisfaction you got from it was worth the consequences.
“I’ll take that bet,” you said to him, feeling your stomach stir.
“I wasn’t—”
“Too bad, Mando. You challenged me and I accept.”
--
And then the rest was history. All you had to do was last two hours without Mando tracking you down and then you could die happy knowing you evaded the best bounty hunter in the parsec, even if it were for a short period of time.
You’re not sure what planet Mando lands the Crest on but it’s definitely one of the quieter ones because he’s landed the ship in a large clearing with only woods as far as the eye can see. It’s not a problem for you, though. Growing up on Naboo meant you were always exposed to forests and clear landscape. In theory, this is the best place he could have chosen, not that you’d tell him that.
“There are some ground rules for this,” he begins to say, standing in the galley of the Crest.
“I’m all ears,” you answer back.
Mando lets out a chuff of air that crackles up through his vocoder, like he’s still considering calling this whole thing off, but after weeks of still not finding a Jedi for the kid, you both need a little distraction.
“First thing, no guns.”
“Okay, that’s understandable.”
“Secondly, you keep the commlink open at all times,” he orders.
“Not a problem,” lips curling into a smile, you already feel the adrenaline pump through your veins, body itching to get this whole bet started.
“Thirdly, if you somehow manage to last the day, we check in once it gets dark.”
“Ouch,” you take a step back, slightly offended at his jab. “You have so little faith in me.”
“I’m not the one overestimating my abilities,” he jests. Who knew Mando could be so snarky?
“Do we call it off at night and wait till dawn?”
“If you want to make to things easier.”
Oh, so that’s how he wants to play.
“All right, Mando. We don’t stop.”
“I don’t know how safe this planet it, but you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”
“Okay, yeah Mando, let’s do this,” you’re basically shaking from the thrill of all this. You can’t wait to show off your evading skills.
“I’ll give you an hour head start. Put as much distance between yourself and the Crest as you can.”
“Don’t worry, Mando. This isn’t my first time running away from someone,” you say with a smug smile.
“Fine,” his voice terse.
Your turn your back to him and face the open ramp. With your heart banging against your ribcage and your palms damp with sweat, this might be the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done.
“Be safe, I’ll see you soon,” He says with a hint of mockery. He’s so confident in himself, it’s actually getting under your skin.
Looking over your shoulder, you hit him with your own jab, “We’ll see about that,” and then you’re descending the ramp.
Once your feet hit the ground, you think of the best direction to head towards. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need to choose every single one of your movements very carefully because any slip up could end up hurting your chances to win.
You hear your named being called, so you turn around to look back at the Crest and see Mando standing at the top of the ramp.
“When I do find you, try to put up a fight.”
That sends heat right to the apex of your thighs. If you didn’t have enough incentive, that was the last nail in the coffin. You’ll make this as hard for Mando as you possibly can.
You shoot him one last devilish grin and disappear from sight, opting to go to your right. Once you reach the forest edge, you break off into a sprint, heading deeper and deeper into the foliage.
The forest isn’t too dense, but there are roots everywhere on the ground and you stumble on a couple of them, nearly falling flat on your face. The positive to having so many branches and roots in the ground means the chances of your footprints showing up in the mud are low but Mando’s got a heat tracker on his helmet, meaning he can still track your movements without actually seeing your prints.
The adrenaline keeps telling you to run, run as fast as you can, but the rational part of your brain realizes that no matter how much distance you put between you and Mando, it won’t matter unless you have a clear plan as to what tactics you’ll need to use in order to make sure he doesn’t find you.
Should you try to find the closest village?
Should you stay in the forest?
Think, think…
You continue to put some more distance between you two and when you feel as though you’ve made some progress, you check the clock on your commlink.
2:50PM.
In ten minutes, Mando will leave the Crest and begin tracking you. You’ll have to start making important decisions soon. When you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you tried to pinpoint a specific spot that might give you some kind of advantage. If your memory serves you correctly, you saw a small area that appeared to be some kind of canyon. Ideally, that might be the perfect spot to find some shelter. A hard surface means no footprints.
Now if you could only find out how far away you are from it…
As you take in your surroundings—which is basically just trees and more trees, you think about finding a high enough viewpoint for you to see where this possible haven could be. A few metres away you happen to see a tree that appears to be much larger than the rest of the ones around it. Its branches look sturdy enough for a human to climb and it doesn’t take you long before you’re heading straight for it. You haven’t climbed a tree in years but if there was a perfect moment to touch-up on your skills, it’s right now.
As you climb up the stump, the branches and leaves break apart, and the sky begins to get clearer and clearer. When you finally reach the very top, you’re so high up that you’re able to spot what you were looking for. It looks like it’s a couple more clicks away, but you were lucky enough to be already heading in that direction. The Maker must be on your side.
One more look at the clock.
3:01PM.
Shit, you have to start moving.
If you start to climb down the tree, you’ll end up losing precious time, allowing Mando to close some of the distance. It’s something you can’t risk. Eyes scanning the woodland between you and your hideout, you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to jump from tree to tree and pray you don’t fall and break any bones. It’s incredibly risky, and your inner self is warning you against it. If you do fall, you’re screwed, breaking a lot of the bones in your body. You’ll have to hope that these branches will be able to carry your weight.
Trying to balance yourself on one of tree’s larger arms, you crawl across it on your knees, knowing damn well if you stood up, you’d lose your balance and fall down, and it would be a pretty big fall. You’re easily fifteen feet off the ground, maybe more. Fuck, this might have been a horrible idea, but it’s frankly too late to turn back, you’ve made up your mind and you need to go through with it.
The jump from the branch you’re currently on to the adjacent one you’ll be jumping onto is about four feet, but it’s not the jump that concerns you. What concerns you is the sturdiness of that branch. Will the impact cause it to snap? Will it make too much noise, letting Mando hear it? All these questions are racing through your mind as you hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The longer you consider it, the more time you waste. You’ll just have to take the chance and hope everything works in your favor.
“Okay… I can do this,” you whisper, psyching yourself up.
As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs are buckling. You take one last look down, fully realizing that this idea is absolutely bonkers and jump.
When your body hits the branch, you latch your arms around it, landing on your stomach. To your surprise, the branch doesn’t break off, it barely even moves.
Success.
You continue to leap from branch to branch, until the rest of trees in your wake look too unstable for you to leap onto. Luckily, the tree you’re currently on isn’t too far from the ground, so you’re able to climb down it in under five minutes before reaching the ground. Keeping still for a moment, you wait to hear something.
A twig snap, leaves rustling, anything, but you don’t hear a single sound.
“Did you actually climb these trees?” You hear Mando’s voice through the commlink on your wrist, which startles you.
Is he already there? He’s already so close, how is he already so fucking close to you?
“Um, no?” You reply.
“That’s convincing,” he answers dryly.
If Mando’s already reached the tree you started climbing at, then he’s really not far behind. You’ll need to start sprinting again. Without trying to make noise, you begin to tiptoe around the forest, trying to be as quick and efficient as you can. It doesn’t take long until you see a break in the forest and somehow quicken your tread to the clearing.
Once you reach the wood's edge, you’re about to take a step into the clearing when you stop yourself.
Kriff, if you step into that open field, you’ll be sticking out like a sore thumb, which is a risk you cannot take. Instead, you’ll have to walk along the sides of the clearing, keeping to the trees and hoping you won’t be spotted.
“Are you really about to step into that glade?”
Your breathing hitches, everything inside you is burning up, adrenaline nearly making you shake uncontrollably.
He’s found you.
He sees you.
Keeping very still, you turn your head in every direction, desperately trying to see where Mando is but you can’t see a fucking thing. You consider making a break for it—which direction, though? Do you turn around and head back into the forest and hope that you’ll be able to lose him in the trees? Do you stick to your guns and continue to make for the mountains?
“Better make up your mind quickly, pretty girl. Time’s running out,” he’s fucking taunting you. Mando knows exactly where you are and is relishing in watching you struggle in deciding what to do next.
There’s something incredibly titillating knowing that he’s watching you, right now. Predator watching prey, observing your every move, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.
“What are the chances I outrun you?” You breathe into the speaker on your wrist, chest puffing in and out heavily.
Mando doesn’t answer right away, mulling over your question. “Very slim.”
“But not impossible?”
You’re sizing yourself up. You know damn well there isn’t a chance you lose him, not when he’s got eyes on you, but you have an advantage on him. Carrying all that armor on his body makes his movements more abrupt, meaning he’s less agile and relies more on his weapons to catch a bounty rather than his own speed. All you need to do is outrun him, make yourself impossible to catch and then maybe, just maybe, you can reach the other end of the forest without getting snatched.
“What are you planning?”
“’Put up a fight’,” you repeat the last words he said to you. “That’s what you said, right?”
“Yes?”
“Well… Come get me.”
And then you’re racing into the glade, your legs moving as fast as you possibly can. The air whipping passed the burning hot skin on your face, lungs feeling like they’re on fire, you’re running so much faster than you ever thought you could. Maker, you didn’t even know you could sprint this fast. Taking one quick look back over your shoulder, you see Mando break out from the forest edge, racing after you. He’s a couple metres behind you, but he seems to be closing the gap between you quicker than your efforts to gain distance.
Starting to panic, you make a sharp turn to the left, hoping he’ll be caught off guard, giving you just a few more seconds to stretch out the distance.
“I’ll give it to you, you’re much quicker than I thought,” he pants.
You’re so close to the forest, just a few more sprints. With your legs burning and getting tired, these last few metres are either going to make or break you, but with the determination to prove him wrong, you refuse to give up. You can almost taste freedom… just one more step—
And then you’re falling to the ground. Face slamming into the grass so hard, your vision goes fuzzy, and your head is pounding, hearing a faint ringing in your ears. When you turn over on your back, you look down at your legs and see your feet wrapped up in grappling line. Still in somewhat of a daze, you try to unravel the coil from your ankles with haste before Mando can close in on you. The tall grass shields your view, stopping you from seeing anything until it’s directly in your face, which mean he can be just a few feet away without you even knowing it. If you have any chance at slipping passed him, you need to move very fast.
Just as the cord untangles from your legs and you jump to your feet, you see Mando standing in front of you, just a little further than arm’s length away. Standing in place, you freeze up like a prey animal being spotted by its predator. Maker, he’s intimidating, carrying himself with such confidence and gusto that it could make even the more fearless predator cower in his presence and because you can’t see his expressions, you have no idea what he’s thinking under that bucket of his.
“Well, you managed to last two hours,” he notices after checking the time on his vambrace.
Relaxing your shoulders and readying yourself to break off into a sprint for the woods, you cock your head to side and chuckle. “Technically, you haven’t caught me yet.”
He tilts his head ever so slowly to the side, chest puffing out. With caution, he takes a step forward and in turn, you step back, maintaining the little distance between you two.
“Don’t make this harder for yourself.”
“When have I ever made it easy for you?”
The visor’s locked on you. Both of you stand incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the first move.
“Don’t run,” he warns.
It’s impossible to ignore the stirring in your stomach. It’s time to face the facts, you’ve already been defeated. There’s not a chance in hell you can possibly win this. You fucked up, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t have started climbing trees, maybe you should have gone left instead of right. None of those things matter anymore. The only thing that matters how is what your next move is.
“Isn’t this what you really wanted?” His voice hitting low in the register.
Oh?
Does he mean what you think he means? Your pussy gushes, and you’re hit in the face with reality.
You would have to be a fool not to notice the way Mando looks at you on the Crest, and how you look at him. There’s clearly chemistry between you two, maybe even infatuation. It’s been three months since you started travelling with him which means there’s been three months’ worth of sexual tension. Both of you felt it, the electricity in the air whenever you were alone together. The air would get thick, your heartrate would quicken, and you’d wait for him to make a move, but he never did. Whenever you felt like that day was finally the day he’d let go of his devices and fuck you senseless on his ship, he’d retreat to the cockpit and lock himself up for hours, leaving you to take care of yourself in the fresher. It was enough to get the job done, but you wanted him, and you know he felt the same.
So, yeah, you’d be lying to yourself if that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. Getting him in his element, force him to come after you, and when you finally gave in or rather, when he found you, he’d be so caught up in the moment that all the sexual tension that had been building up for the last three months would climax at this very moment. What you couldn’t have anticipated was Mando figuring all of this out and actually calling you out on it.
Slacking your jaw, you lick your bottom lip, staring at the ‘T’ of his visor, realizing that this whole bet was just a façade—that the real reason you started this whole wager was to rile him up.
Mando body shifts, his fingers flexing at his sides.
“Been wanting it for three months, Mando,” you challenge.
He makes a guttural noise in his throat, and now you know you’ve got him. It’s taken three months to get you where you are now. Three months of walking around the Crest, swaying your hips purposely in hopes he’d look at you as you walked by. Three months of not so innocent touches on whatever part of him you could touch. Three months of soft moans and groans, trying to get his attention.
All your hard work is finally going to pay off.
Mando tries to close the gap between you, taking a step towards you. Being the brat you are, you step back.
“You’re really going to make this difficult?” He asks—very much a rhetorical question.
“Come get me, Mando,” the words slip off your tongue, once again trying to entice him.
A game of chicken.
Who’s going to make the first move? Is Mando going to charge for you? Do you let him? Do you turn and try to run away?
In a flash, Mando leaps forward and you’re just quick enough to dodge him, whipping your body towards the forest’s edge and taking large strides forward. You barely make it three feet before there’s more grappling line squeezing your ankles together. Once again, you land on your stomach with just barely enough time to cover your face with your hands.
Now, you know there’s no way you’d be able to get up in time and still somehow slip through his fingers, not that it was ever the point of this bet. You thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being on the run and having Mando chasing after you but you’re way more interested in what’ll happen next than actually winning.
It’s takes a few seconds for you to get your bearings, and as soon as you begin to push yourself upright, you’re being shoved back into the ground by Mando using his bodyweight against you. He straddles either side of your legs, pushing them together.
“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Mando’s voice suddenly whispers in your ear, pressing himself into your body. He bucks his hips against your ass, his erection nuzzled between your cheeks. Propping himself on his elbows so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight, one of his hands grab hold of your waist, digging into your flesh.
Trying to arch your back, you push your ass out to grind against his cock even more. Maker, you want him so fucking badly. Being fucked in an open field where anyone could see you, it’s daring and intoxicating.
Your hands fumble to your pants, trying to unbutton them and slide them down your thighs. Mando senses your urgency and swats your hands away and then his body leaves you momentarily, just long enough for him to tug your trousers down to your knees. It’s rushed, and you’re already panting underneath him, the anticipation eating you up from the inside.
A leather gloved hand grazes your lips, then he’s pushing two fingers in your mouth. The tastes of earth and salt lingering on your tongue.
“Bite,” he instructs.
You oblige and the glove comes off, discarded just inches away from your face. Without skipping a beat, his naked hand travels down your side, and with your ass in the air, he palms your stomach, keeping you in place and forcing you to arch your back even more. The pool of arousal in your stomach is making you squirm, getting more impatient as the seconds go by.
Mando takes his time trailing your lower belly, fingers barely grazing your skin. Your breathing is completely erratic, panting heavily into the ground. When he finally cups your sex, your breath hitches, a sharp inhale escapes your lips.
“Stars, you’re fucking soaked already,” he admires, and then two calloused fingertips are rubbing tight circles on your clit.
Writhing underneath him, you can barely keep still. The pleasure is overwhelming, something you’ve been waiting for for so long, you can’t believe this is really happening
Your hands grab at his waist with haste, trying to remove his pants but because you can’t see what you’re doing, you’re just aimlessly grabbing at him. He sees you struggling and lifts himself off of you. Hearing a small scuffle, he presses his body into your back again, and you feel his freed cock between your cheeks. Maker, he’s huge… is it possible for someone to feel this big when he hasn’t even stuck it in you yet?
“Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly, his own pants scratching low in his helmet.
“Y-y-yes, please,” you croak, your throat already bone dry.
Gathering as much of your slick on his hand as he can, you feel him smear it all over his length and with your ass still shoved up against him, he teases your entrance with his tip. Hands grabbing at his hips with urgency, he actually fucking chuckles and then starts burying himself inside you.
Stars, he’s fucking huge, it almost burns how much he’s stretching your walls. Your eyes wrench shut so hard; you’re seeing stars. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs, you can’t even make a sound as your jaw fucking drops. He buries himself deeper and deeper—kriff you’re not sure how much more you can take. Your body freezes once he’s fully inside you, teasing your cervix with his head.
“F-f-fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes out once he’s filled you to the hilt. Steadying himself on his palms, his cuirass leaves your back, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, giving you time to acclimate to his size. “I’ll try to be gentle—”
“No,” you say, cutting him off. “Please, j-just, fuck—do what you want,” you’re basically sobbing already, and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you.
He slowly pulls out and when you feel just the head still inside you, he slams into you so hard, you jerk forwards and cry out, your whole body stilling from being so full.
“You have to be quiet, someone might hear,” he tells you gently, pulling out again ever so slowly.
In an effort to stifle your moans, you bite down hard on your bottom lip, and when he bucks his hips and crashes into you again, you’re unable to stop the shriek that escapes you. Balancing himself on one arm, he grabs the discarded glove by your face and stuffs it into your mouth, gagging you with it and then begins really fucking you.
He drives his cock into you at a grueling speed, stopping his rhythm momentarily to roll his hips against your ass, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. Whatever pathetic noise tries to slip through your lips is muffled by leather and you’re grateful for it because your cries would echo through the field if not for the glove.
Mando drops his weight back on you, feeling his breastplate dig into your back. He lets his cock just sit there as his naked hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure with two fingers. He resumes his pace, jackhammering your pussy with so much force, his balls slapping against your skin echo through the clearing.
“Shit, this—this is what you wa-anted?” He hisses, never once relenting his rhythm.
You couldn’t have planned for how mind-blowing this is. The daydreams, the dreams while you slept, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Nothing in your imagination even comes close to the actual feeling of Mando fucking you senseless in the middle of an open area. You’re so close to your climax already, something no other person has even gotten close to doing. Mando knows how to fuck, how to reach the right spots inside you, how to drive you fucking insane.
“Yes, ah-shit, yes Mando, please, please, it feels so good,” you babble, your mind unable to come up with a coherent thought; instead, you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, they begin streaming down your face.
“Be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he grits out between thrusts.
The grass is tickling your face, he pushes you deeper in the ground with every plunge, and then your orgasm rips through you, waves of white-hot pleasure crashing over you, electrifying your body from the inside out. Clawing at the ground and grabbing fistfuls of dirt, your body tenses and untenses at the same time, you can barely breathe. His hand is still pressing into your neck, making you dizzy from the limited air you can actually take in, as well as your climax punching out of you.
“Yes, fuck—ah shit—stars, you feel so fucking good.”
Mando doesn’t like to talk very much, only speaking when directly addressed, but now he’s a mess. He praises you, repeating words of admiration like it’s a prayer he tells himself at night and knowing you’re the reason for all this chatter just fills you up with pride.
He has incredible stamina, so he doesn’t need to pause in order to catch his breath very often. Mando continues to drill into you with such speed and force, you don’t know how much more you can take. It’s so much better than you thought it could be, you never could have predicted Mando to be so good at fucking you. He knows exactly how to treat your body, how to get the most pleasure out of you, it’s like he already knows you better than you know yourself. His cock rams that spot deep inside you that’s never been touched, nearly blinding you and causing your mind to go blank. You curse the Maker for making you wait this long. Both of you needed this, to take your frustrations and desires out on each other.
It’s primal, the way he thrusts inside you, feeling his cock pulse and twitch as your walls squeeze around him. Mando can barely shut up, if he’s not growling admirations in your ear, he’s keening into the helmet, his baritone hitting so low and rough, it only spurs you on.
The hand on your neck slacks, and then he’s pulling the glove out of your mouth. “Where d-do I—”
“Inside,” you manage to mewl, although your voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.”
“Ah—shit, you want me inside you? Fill your pretty little cunt with my come?”
You make a pathetic noise in your throat, the dryness of it too much for you to actually speak.
“Words, pretty girl. I need you to use your—fuck—words.”
You swallow hard, trying to get some dampness in your throat. “Y-yes.”
Mando growls contently and resumes his ruthless, hard pace. It’s no longer rushed, but with every thrust, he slams into your pussy so hard and hitting your cervix that your body jerks upwards, struggling to keep still. He grinds his hips a couple more times and then he reaches his own climax. You feel his cock throb inside you, filling you up with his seed.
“Fuck!” He snarls into the helmet, keeping it pressed against the side of your head.
You’re completely spent, you can barely move a muscle. Mando’s just fucked the life out of you, and you could lie here for the rest of your life, happy and satisfied. When you feel him start to pull out, with the little strength you gave—which is by no means a lot, you clench your walls around him, trying to keep him inside you.
“Don’t want me to leave?” He jokes.
“Want you inside all the time,” you mumble into the ground.
Mando hums, sheathing himself inside you once again.
“Pretty girl, I’m just getting started with you.”
#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#mando x reader#the mandalorian smut#one-shot#pedrostories#fics
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