#... okay now that i typed that all out I regret keeping it in the tags :

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type Pt. 2

(The look on Steve’s face when he realizes what your doing 😭)

Part 1 Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Your night couldn’t get any better.

Warnings: sub!bucky, no explicit smut, but suggestive themes.

Tags: @mereptt @mcira @blackhawkfanatic @misz-adrii @f-1-refly @bbhaughen

You couldn’t feel your legs. They were completely numb from the cold. Steve showed no signs of even having a chill. Meanwhile you were reduced to hobbling one leg after the other, only 5 blocks in.

Focusing on the walk, and keeping your breath even; so Steve doesn’t notice how winded you were, sobered you even more than the cold. You now realized your situation. Confidence boost drained as soon as Bucky was out of sight.

You’re grateful when traffic causes you to stop at a crosswalk. You bury your arms under each other and try to stay warm in place. Steve noticed you shivering 10 minutes ago. He didn’t have a jacket to give you so he knew making it home was the best option for warmth.

He didn’t expect to stop, and have a moment to do something about it. He quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his full body against you. Your legs were still cold but he provided more than enough heat to warm you. You didn’t mind that no words were shared between you the whole walk, he didn’t seem to either, still smiling when you made it back home.

Climbing the stairs to your door, you search for words to say. Are you both seriously going through with this? Did Steve mean it? Sweat was forming on your palms, you noticed when your keys almost slipped out of your grasp, or maybe it was the trembling.

“I-“ you begin, instantly being cut off. “We should talk, inside.” He says, and your heart drops. He regrets it, of course he does, that’s your luck. You knew it was too good to be true. “No need, I get it.” You say, dropping your head.

“I just can’t do this to Bucky.” he says, sitting down on your couch when you made it inside. You were confused, you thought you were doing this because of Bucky. “What?” Him not being into you was less confusing.

Steve sighs, “I like you, and I wouldn’t mind making you forget all about some asshole at a bar.” Your cheeks flush, you knew he meant fucking you till all you could think about was him. “If that asshole wasn’t Bucky, and I didn’t know just how much he really does care about you.”. Oh.

“Let me get this straight, you’re defending him now?” You stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. He has to look up to you. “Don’t stand there like that and yell at me, it only makes me want you more. It’s making this harder than it has to be.” You scoff, “Okay Steve, my brain is literally going to explode if you don’t start talking.” You sit down on your coffee table, letting your knees brush his.

As if this is harder for him. You were dragged into a bar to embarrass yourself by friends that meant well. You found out your work crush wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot poll. You somehow told said crush off in an alley after kissing Captain America. Your night couldn’t get any more rough.

“I know he likes you, he might deny it, but I can see the way he looks at you. He has a weird way of showing it, I know. But tonight, I just kept pushing him and I know he regrets what he said. He’s just degrading you to cope with having actual feelings.” He now takes his turn to face the ground, not being able to meet your eye.

“The way he talked about you didn’t sit right with me. I was trying to show him that looks don’t matter, we looked pretty good pressed together in that alley, and I know he saw that.” He paused, thinking over his words.

“I do like you, I don’t want you thinking any different. But I don’t want to carry on with this if Bucky still has a chance, it wouldn’t be right.” You can tell how sincere he is being, and it has you already forgiving Bucky without even receiving an apology from the man himself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Steve.” You rub your sweaty palms on your bare knees. “I can’t just pretend like he never said that. I can see that how much your friendship means. It’s no hard feelings, really. But I wouldn’t put myself in a position where Bucky could hurt me again, if you paid me.” You laugh, getting fully used to douche bag guys.

Steve nods his head, understanding that you owe neither of the men a thing. “He would have to crawl in here on his hands and knees begging for a chance with fatty.” You shrug your shoulders, keeping your integrity.

“That could be arranged.” He smiles, breaking up the tension with dopey grin. You mentally face palm. “Go for it tiger, but I won’t be a part of it.” You give him a thumbs up, and suddenly you’re exhausted.

“Tonight’s obviously not happening, and I have to be in your office with everyone else in,” you squint at the clock on your microwave. “, 7 hours. So, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, leave my apartment Captain America.” You pat the side of his knee, reassuring him that you’re being lighthearted.

“Fine, but I will see you at 8 sharp.” He says, standing from the couch and making his way to your door. You follow behind him, needing to deadbolt it. “Why is he the way he is?” You blurt out, figuring Steve’s the only person who could answer that question.

“If you find out I’d love to know.” He throws his hands up. “People like to think I’m close to Bucky, but he never let anyone in after he was deprogrammed. Not even me, so I think he’s just having a hard time letting feelings for you in, his brain won’t let him.”.

“Why go after my weight?” You ask, as if Steve answers for him. He shrugs “Cause it was basic, and cliché. Made it seem like something was wrong with him, not you. I’ve tried to wrap my head around the new word, ‘fatphobia’ but I can’t, it seems like a personal problem that people project onto other heavier people.” How was he real? Steve Rogers continues to amaze you with every word that falls from his lips.

When Steve opens the door you both come face to face with Bucky. Standing there, having followed you home. Staying a hundred yards back, watching your every move. He stood outside and heard every word shared between you and Steve.

He knew the only thing he could do to make it right. So he did, wordlessly dropping to his knees on your doorstep. “What are you doing here?” Steve tries to interject, but you press your hand to his chest, needing him to be quiet for a minute.

You can’t break eye contact with Bucky, unable to believe what he’s doing. His eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears. A smug smile falls on your lips and you pull Steve along with you as you walk backwards. Giving Bucky room to step into the house.

He leans forward, placing both palms on the carpeted entryway. Your hand on Steve’s chest can feel the shallow breaths he was taking. But you couldn’t think to hard about him right now, Bucky was crawling on his hands and knees towards you, with giant blue puppy dog eyes, that literally leaked with regret.

Once Bucky made it to your feet, he sat back on his heels, holding his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”, his eyes fill with more tears, “Everything Steve said was right.” He sighs, looking over to his friend.

“I don’t know how to let people in. I’m insecure, and possibly the dumbest man alive.” He reaches out and grasps your hand, needing you to feel his sincerity. His eyes set hard, having difficulty admitting the next part, “You scare the shit out of me.”.

You let out a laugh, breaking up the tension in the room. “I scare you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as loud as it did, but you were still upset. He nods, pressing his eyebrows together. “Yes.”. He comes closer to you, till his chest bumped against your knees. He held both hands now, “Please, forgive me, I’ll do anything. You’re the only person in this new world that makes me feel, anything. After I was deprogrammed, you were the only thing that felt normal, like home. Not Brooklyn, the past.” He takes your stoicism as an invitation to rest his hands on your thighs, wanting to physically connect with you while he rips himself open.

“The way you smelled of honeysuckles.” He presses his face against your stomach, inhaling deeply. “Red lipstick always on hand, making your smile brighter than any I’d ever saw. The way you walked up to me on your first day, so brave and confident. You remind me of home and it’s scary.”.

Your heart sank. This whole time, this is how he felt? All the harsh staring and denial was just, homesickness? You look down and feel yourself begin to feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. “I didn’t know.”.

Steve, who had stayed silent this whole time, face set in stone, finally speaks up. “No, you didn’t know. So don’t feel bad. Again, it’s his fault for being dumb.” He steps closer to the two of you, starting to feel possessive over you. He wasn’t going to let Bucky get by with a half hearted apology. He could tell he was holding something back.

“I don’t believe it, you’re scared of her because she’s perfect for you?” He squats down to Bucky’s level, trying to intimidate him. Bucky looks between you, not sure if he should answer him. You raise your brow, letting him know Steve peaked your interest.

“Everything I’ve ever known or loved is gone, relics of the past. I’m scared that you might go away too, if you got too close to me.”.

Steve was visibly hurt. Did he not remind Bucky of home? He’s known Bucky his whole life, why couldn’t he let him in? He knew Steve wasn’t going anywhere. The Captain stayed silent, knowing tonight was about the hurt Bucky caused you, not him. He would pay for Steve’s emotional wounds later.

Before he can plot anything in his mind he’s being pulled up from the floor by you. “What do you think his punishment ought to be, huh Stevie?” When he looked at your face all he could see was deviance. Playing along, he pinches his chin in thought. “Hmm, you know, I’d hate to leave without finishing what we started earlier.”. He spins you to face him, letting his hands find the curve of your ass.

“I like that idea.” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your raise yourself up on your tippy toes and kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You hear a whine from the floor beside you. Bucky’s face is red and you can tell he’s confused. “You sit there and be a good boy, then I’ll forgive you and maybe even let you touch me.”. You say, letting both Steve and Bucky know, you’re not the same person in the bedroom.

You loved degrading men. In your everyday life you might come across as sweet, unsuspecting, inexperienced. But you weren’t, there’s no shortage of men wanting a woman to dominate them. You’d never had the pleasure of using one this far out of your league.

Tonight, you were going to take advantage of it. Seeing Bucky crawl on his hands and knees lit a fire inside of you. You didn’t need to hear his apology at that point. Everything after it was pure showmanship. The performance of your life.

The morning came before you knew it. Your 7am alarm blaring through your studio apartment. Steve and Bucky left earlier, waking you up with goodbye kisses, but your foggy, half asleep brain barely registered that they left. You wore your hair down today, letting last nights curls be free. You didn’t opt for makeup, knowing the intense winter training would melt it off anyways.

When you make it to work, you see a lot of sunglasses. “Is everyone hungover?” You ask Natasha who’s nursing a black coffee. “Almost everyone.” She nods towards the two super soldiers standing behind Steve’s desk.

You blush when Steve gives you a wide smile, hoping no one in the office noticed. But of course Wanda senses the change in your footsteps and the buzzing reverberating off of you. She sits beside you in the semicircle of chairs, leaning over to whisper “I’m gonna need details.” She nudges her shoulder with yours, teasing you.

Before you could retaliate, Steve starts the debrief. “Winter training, gotta love it.” The whole room groans as Steve laughs. “I won’t keep you too long, I know you all have a long day ahead of you. But I like to think a good ole pep talk is the best thing for a team.”.

You roll your eyes. You liked Steve, but boss Steve was exhausting. You press your forehead on Wanda’s shoulder, you both hated this cringy kind of thing. “I’d like to remind you all why we train so vigorously. Teamwork. We all preform better together. We have to constantly be adapting to eachother, our strengths, and weaknesses.” He looks into each of your coworkers eyes, trying to drive his point.

“We change, just like the seasons, so pay special attention to your training partner today. They might teach you something new.” The inspirational speech was enough to have you wanting to go back home and go back to sleep, something you only received 3 hours of.

“Wanda, Sam, and Bruce, I want you guys down at the lake. Yelena, Natasha and Clint, go to the helipad, further instruction will be waiting.” He looks at the tablet infront of him, reading off bullet points.

“Y/N, Bucky and I are scheduled to be in the gym. Peter and Vision are already with Tony and Rhodes in the lab. Any questions?” He dismisses everyone after that. He changed it. So smoothly that no one noticed, you’d been scheduled to be at the lake with Wanda and Bruce. Of course Sam wouldn’t protest the change up, Steve just had to ask nicely.

When everyone shuffled out of the room, Wanda reminded you she wanted details over lunch later. Once everyone was gone you were suddenly aware that you were left alone with them. You were blinded by lust last night, not realizing the position you put yourself in. Were you with Bucky now? His confession was pretty serious. Were you with both of them? Was it a one night stand? Are they done with you now that they’ve had their fun? A million questions ran through your head while you waited by the door.

“Ready?” Bucky opens the door for you, ushering you into the hallway. You give him a tight lipped smile, not knowing how to interact with him not on his knees. You definitely weren’t the same person in the bedroom. Your regular self was awkward and embarrassingly nice at times. Would either of them still want you, once they see how different you could be?

They knew you before, and even liked you before. But now they have something else to base it off. Was your dominance too much for a long term thing with them? You have a feeling you’re about to find out, as you all pile into the small room with a wall of mirrors and elliptical.

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu #bucky x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #stucky x reader #sub!bucky #bucky barnes x plus size reader

[urf1lterr]

afterglow | pedro pascal [2/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

previous chapter: [1]

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 15k

status: 2/3 complete

author's note: SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT LOVES. even though its gonna be three parts lol i still want you to want more. i've been confused on my writing because tbh- i feel like i could do better and keep rushing with these storylines and end up regretting them AFTER they are posted lol. not edited- it really isn't.

"Let's cut the chit-chat and get some real answers, why did y'all breakup?"

"Andrew!"

"Three days have passed, she's fine now," he defended, shrugging as Florence shot him an irritated look by his prying behavior.

It has indeed been a few days since the terrible night that consisted in you meeting your favorite artist, crying beside her, running awkwardly away right after, having a screaming match with your ex, and then passing out in the car.

So, you couldn't deny it wasn't a memorable night.

The past three days could've been better to say the least if your management team stopped spamming you with text messages concerning the fight, maybe even ignoring the loads of pictures of your crying face.

Oh, the pictures. Not a fun sight to see.

Luckily for you, the pictures were only ones inside the party near Andrew- not Pedro. Unfortunately, though, your picture was turned into a 'crying in the club' meme.

You couldn't exactly be mad over it, you loved memes.

Thank the Lords the paparazzi were clueless and never ended up catching your argument with Pedro or you wouldn't know how to cover it up.

You could never get away with the typical 'friends fighting' after he shouted how much he loved you.

And bless the celebrities near you for minding their business.

To clear up your meltdown, you took it upon yourself to send out a quick tweet the next morning with a "i'm sorry i'm an emotional drunk. one second we're talking about 500 days of summer and then...well you already know how THAT ends."

In that moment you couldn't care less if people believed you or not, this was going to pass fast anyway.

Now here you were, sitting in front of your kitchen bar as Andrew and Florence decided to pay you a visit because they missed you- or so they say.

Realistically, they wanted to see if you were still a hot mess.

Which you weren't, obviously.

Shailene would have tagged along, but she was busy doing grown up things, such as working on her latest project Andrew claimed which was a slight bummer. She was the mediator, now who else was going to stop the arguments calmly between your two friends.

Florence disagreed, shaking her head. "You can't just ask her that, it's impolite."

Sighing, Andrew sent you an apologetic glance. "Okay, I am sorry." Not taking his eyes off you, you could feel his curiosity and eagerness from the other side of the kitchen. "But we're all thinking it."

Judging by how unresponsive Florence became, you could tell she wasn't going to fight him on this. And well, she was secretly on his side because your fight with Pedro was seriously excessive.

She just wanted to know what he could've done to make you so angry, it didn't make sense to her if he did cheat. He didn't seem like the type, but some people do the most surprising things- so she couldn't really tell.

"Do you want the last reason or all of them?"

Widening his eyes, Andrew shares a glance with Florence for a swift second before finding your eyes. "Last reason?"

"The last fight we had that led us to finalize our breakup."

"Finalize," he giggled, leaning on the marble counter. "This isn't a divorce process."

"For a person who is so concerned about my relationship crisis, you seem to be catch on to the most irrelevant stuff."

"So you admit you still want to be with him," Andrew declared, giving a smug look as you tried to process his words. "If you're still stressing over him, it means you don't want to let him go."

"I never said I was stressing over hi-"

"Did she or did she not just claim she was undergoing a crisis-," Andrew interrupted, slightly raising his voice. "-a relationship crisis, to be exact."

Florence sheepishly looked your way, capturing your stern expression before slowly nodding.

Your male friend clapped his hands loudly before bursting out a wider grin, happy someone had his back. "There we have it, if he's on your mind that much to turn into a crisis- you still love him!"

Furrowing your brows, you didn't know how to respond. It was true, you had many moments where Pedro agitated you even when you haven't been near him for quite some time.

But isn't being wound up over an ex part of healing?

Truth be told, you knew your feelings for Pedro hadn't completely disappeared, but love? You weren't even sure love existed by your past experiences.

"I do not love him," you hiss, vigorously snatching the water bottle on the counter and aggressively opening it. "How can love be real? It's baffling."

"Questioning the real question with a question," he sneers, making Florence and you become confused as ever. "You're so in love him."

Florence cuts in, squinting her face in puzzlement. "Wait- what's the real question she's supposedly questioning with a question?"

"Love!" he cheers happily before placing his hand on his palm, dreamingly gazing at you. "You have your doubts on what love may be, but without knowing it you're having them because you're questioning your love to Pedro since you're too scared to admit you still love him."

"I don't get it."

Rolling your eyes, you swiftly turn away and head towards your living room to lay on your couch. You were not in the mood to have someone else tell you what your feelings were when they weren't you. "I'm done with this conversation."

Hearing a low slapping noise, following an irritated hiss, you could make out Florence's displeased voice. "See what you did! Now she's not going to tell us."

"So much for moral support, you really are nosy," Andrew fought back, whispering loudly.

A minute or two went by since you couldn't make out what they were saying before rushed footsteps soon made their way near you as your friends awkwardly smiled, hoping they didn't upset you too much.

Because they really wanted to know the drama.

Pushing him roughly from behind, Florence sent you an innocent smile as Andrew landed near your side of the couch, trying his best to hold his composure and not turn back around and start another fight.

Placing a light hand on your shoulder, you blankly glance at it before meeting his attention. "We just wanted you to know we totally understand if you aren't comfortable...expressing your past-"

"Get your hand off me and let's get this over with so you two can leave already."

Florence quickly sat right beside Andrew, both not offended with your statement because they were fully aware of how annoying the were becoming.

Before you could say anything, Florence quickly spoke aloud. "Start from the beginning!" Andrew slowly looking back to her, he sent her a confused look. "So we aren't lost, of course."

Laughing lightly, you nod before adjusting yourself on your seat. It was going to be hard to remember all the details clearly because there really wasn't an exact time issues occurred, it kind of just naturally appeared here and there.

Now that you think of it, majority of the tiny disputes during the earlier days of your relationship were probably on the same level as when you two were splitting, but maybe the dense ones created towards the end really made it hard to continue.

"If I'm being totally honest, we never really had problems when we first started dating. He was really great," you begin, clutching onto a pillow you found right beside you. "And he would always make sure to watch me make it inside my house before leaving, that was when I knew he wasn't some fling."

Andrew smirked, nodding proudly. "Classic move."

Smiling at the thought, you focused your mind to uncover the ugly truths that slowly tore you two apart.

"But then one day, I wanna say a few weeks after our second anniversary, we just started...fighting?"

Tilting your head, you look down as sad memories began pouring through your mind completely. "It wasn't our usual small fights over who left the bathroom floor wet or dropping his ipad in the pool-"

"-you dropped his ipad in the pool?" Florence coughed, bewildered by your scandalous actions.

"He wanted to know if it was waterproof," you defended.

"Was it?"

"No," you nervously reply, avoiding their eyes. "But he had it backed up and I bought him a new one!"

"That was kind of a bitchy move," Andrew muttered, catching your pissed gaze. "But at least you made up for it!"

Maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to just throw it in, but he did say he was really curious and wanted to dump it under the sink.

"Anyway," you start back up again, making Andrew lowly sigh in relief. "Our fights were never that serious, or at least not until he started filming for that new tv series he joined."

Florence spoke up, lightly questioning "The Last of Us?"

Nodding, you shrugged. "I guess it's normal to say the time apart did cause a rift in our relationship, but it wasn't too bad. He always made sure to call and facetime at least once every two days."

"But one day when he was visiting during his week break he just...snapped?" you frowned, not even wanting to visualize the tiny argument.

You had to for your own good.

"He had been home for maybe two days before he suddenly became moody. Like- his attitude was insane, I have never seen him like this ever," you sigh, closing your eyes for a second before continuing. "He didn't want to go out to eat, didn't want me to make him food, and when I offered to have it delivered he slammed the bedroom door on my face and claimed he was going to bed."

"Woah, why would he do that?" Andrew asked, seriousness splattered all over his face.

You wish you knew.

"Not sure, I just thought maybe work was stressing him out so I wanted him to have his alone time to clear his mind."

"Did that work?"

Sitting up straighter, you send a sorrowful smile. "For the rest of that week-yes. He ended up apologizing to me when I tried going to bed and said his manager was being tough on him for some scenes they had done."

You remember the moment you walked inside your bedroom, disappointed that he was awake. Not wanting to cause more tension, you planned to sneak under the covers and deal with the incident in the morning.

But his arms slowly wrapping over your waist as you had your back facing him said otherwise. Pulling you closer, you remember the soft "please don't be mad at me" he whispered near your ear, making sure you felt his tight embrace as if to prove you were his.

That night ended with you turning your body over to face him, accepting his open arms as a way to answer his pleading way of forgiveness.

Like always.

"Once he went back to work, we still talked- but I could tell he wasn't fully engaged like he always was," you sulk, remembering the first time you caught him not listening. "It got to the point where I purposely stopped answering his calls."

Your friends quickly send you a shocked look, you continue before they could intercept. "I couldn't handle his lack of attention, I would rather have him panic from the rejected calls than just tell him why I was upset."

It wasn't your best move, but you were frustrated. It wasn't fair that he was the one who got to treat you poorly and you had to accept it.

You admit, maybe if you communicated with him about these issues you could've prevented many future arguments and even saved your relationship.

But you were human and sometimes humans act human.

"Then what happened?" Andrew asked, a curious appearance plastering his face. "You continued ignoring him?"

Laughing lightly, you shake your head. It was the plan, but plans don't always work out. "Actually, he secretly took a flight back home one weekend and confronted me."

Gasping, Florence jumped up in her seat and moved her leg under her. "No way!"

"Yes, way," you sheepishly reply, embarrassed at the memory. You can still picture the way Pedro stood in your shared bedroom as you stepped out of your bathroom, jumping at the sight of him.

Standing with his arms crossed with his bags thrown by the door, he was determined to figure out what was going on with you.

"I wouldn't say we engaged in a heated argument, but it was surprisingly really emotional."

Andrew leaned his body closer, too interested not to let his questions slide. "Were you guys never emotional? I feel like every couple experiences those moments together- it's what makes them stronger."

It should've made you two stronger, but instead it made you weaker without you realizing it.

"Pedro and I had our minor instances, but it never involved problems we were facing," you began, sighing slightly. "All I remember was finding him standing near the bed with no emotion- none. I couldn't read what he may have been feeling, he just looked so....empty?"

"Empty? That's not good." Florence commented.

"That could mean a lot of things, not necessarily anger," Andrew added, trying to make you feel better.

"I knew deep down he was mad, as he should be- I was the one ignoring him," you defended him, taking full responsibility over your childish actions. "But I could tell he was more hurt that mad."

"What did he say?"

"What's going on?" Pedro questioned, his eyes not daring to leave yours as you freeze- stopping your attempts at brushing your wet hair, extremely confused as to why he was here.

He wasn't supposed to visit for another month, or so he said.

"Pedro?" you squint your eyes, still not sure if he was really in front of you or maybe you were daydreaming. You were high off many shots of espressos, it's finally hitting you. "Is that you?"

Still staring plainly at you, he stays right where he was. In any other circumstances he would have run up and wrapped his arms tightly around you, but this night was different.

He looked disorientated, out of place. His eyes lacked intensity as his body followed, looking as stiff as ever. Even his breathing matched his energy, calm yet unsettled.

You left him confused and he did not like that. "Answer my question."

Batting your eyes faster, you realize what was going on and where he was. Gasping, you do the exact opposite of what he wanted. "What the hell are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be home- you could get fired a-"

Taking a hold of your arms, he stills you and ignores your rambling. "What-" he begins, moving his right hand to the back of your neck and forcing you to focus on him only. "-is going on?"

Freezing, you try to back your head away from his grip but he tightens his grasp, making sure to not be too rough so he doesn't actually hurt you- he would never do such a thing. "I don't understand-"

"You haven't been answering my calls, what else is there to understand?" He sternly recalls, not wanting you to bullshit your way out of this. "So you either have been ignoring me on purpose to be petty or this is your way of hinting you don't want to be with me anymore."

Shaking your head frantically, you try to talk but he cuts you off again. "-And don't say you've been busy. You and I both know I would have figured out if you had added projects to your schedule- your mom tells me everything."

If this were a good time, you would have laughed at his side comment regarding your mother, but it wasn't.

"Not everything," you spit out, causing him to squint his face and release his hands from you.

"Are you trying to tell me something? Are you not happy? Is that why you've been avoiding my calls?" he questions, tilting his head in bewilderment, not liking your attitude at the moment. "Because if you really don't want to be with me you should've told me sooner than leaving me feeling fucking clueless while I'm out in another country working."

"I'm not saying I don't want to be with you-"

"But you aren't denying it," he intercepts, firmly nodding in realization. "I get it, I'm just glad I know now and won't have to wait another month to finally understand how you're feeling."

Walking away from you, Pedro walks towards his bags and reaches down for them. You scoff at his disturbed demeanor. There is no way you should be the only one at fault here- you both made mistakes.

Pushing his backpack off his hands, he watches at it lands on the floor before instantly finding your eyes. "Are you seri-"

"Just because I'm avoiding your calls doesn't mean I want to end our relationship" you shriek, glaring at him as his eyes soften at your hidden truth.

Your angered expression and stiff posture hits him like a brick, there was something really bothering you and he was too oblivious to acknowledged it until you began overlooking him.

Taking a deep breath, you watch as your boyfriend intently examines you as if he's trying to read your impractical mind. Sometimes, he wished you would speak up when something was bothering you, in fact- he has told you many times in the past to do so.

But the idea of patiently waiting until it erupts is what he's sure you've normalized in fear of desertion. Or maybe refusal of reality- the two of you weren't perfect.

"What's going on?" He calmly questions again, dropping any signs of fury and replaces it with worry and concern. Reaching out to you, he softly clasps your shoulder before moving in a few inches. "Am I making you upset?"

Slapping his hand away, you cross your arms over your chest in agitation. "I'm mad at you!"

Blinking a few times, he couldn't believe how fast you spilled and chaotic your energy was. He's never seen you act this hysterical and to be honest, he was really debating asking if you were on your period or not. "Why?"

Pursing your lips together, you release your arms and let them fall on your sides. "You know why!" With that, you turn your back to him and make your way back to your bathroom to hide.

At this point, you felt it was acceptable to act unbearable- he left you feeling insignificant and you weren't going to hold it in anymore.

If you stayed there any longer you knew you would break down into tears. Showing your vulnerable side this early into an argument was too easy, you have to show how bold you were in order to get your point across.

Or anger across.

But it was really hard to hold a grudge, he was just so- loving, despite your recent incidents. Deep down, he did care about you and wanted to validate your feelings- or as best he could.

Grabbing anything you could find near your sink, you begin opening some moisturizer and splatter it around your hands to keep you busy. You could feel Pedro come inside your shared bathroom but you don't dare to peep his way.

"Honey- please," you heard him release a soft sigh as he stood behind you, watching through your huge mirror in front of the two of you. He could make out your distressed appearance and you were absolutely not fine. "You can't just steer clear from this, we need to talk about it-"

Slamming the poor jar on the counter, you swiftly twist your body to his front and feel all the rage taking control. "But did you want to talk all those times I called you?! No, you didn't give one fuck about me or Leia!"

"You named your dog after Princess Leia? That's smart," Andrew butted in, grinning. "You know, since he's in the Mandalorian and Star W-"

"We get it."

Maybe it was wrong to bring your beloved corgi into such a serious topic, but she was abandoned by her father too.

"I did talk to you! I made sure to call you whenever I had time an-"

"I'm glad I made it into your schedule- but maybe if you considered adding some compassion and empathy it wouldn't feel like I'm just another business call you hate!"

Panting, you send daggers his way as his eyes widen. Did you just say he doesn't care about your calls? Impossible- he loves your calls, it makes his days better.

"You aren't a business call and you know that. Honey, please understand- hey!" He cuts himself off once you finally had enough of his poor attempts to defend himself, trying to flee but he ends up being quicker on his feet and yanking you back to his arms.

But once you were wrapped around him, even though it was for pure captivity and not warmth, you instantly broke down. He didn't know you were in tears until he felt his shirt become damp and still then he just thought you were trying to spit on him out of anger.

Hearing your tiny whimpers, he immediately glanced down and lifted you up to catch a clear view of your face, despite your protests and blockings. "Baby, I-I didn't mean to make you cry-"

"You don't mean a lot of things," you spit out, swatting his hands that dared to reach your face. You weren't in the mood to make up, all you wanted to do was sleep your troubles away, especially with the draining work day you had.

Continuing your pulling, Pedro began becoming annoyed with your strong protests against his affection. Isn't this what you wanted? "Why won't you let me hold you? I want to console you, can't I be your boyfriend for the night and tomorrow you can continue hating me?"

"You see my tears and now you want to hold me but admit we'll still be out of place tomorrow? That's acceptable for you?" you laugh ruthlessly, allowing space to be brought in front of you. "Do you hear yourself?"

Groaning, he rubs his face hard before speaking his mind, trying not to sound too furious and scare you. "What do you want me to do? I admit, I did lack some energy-"

"Some?" you snort to yourself, your face still wet.

"Don't interrupt me," he declared, shaking his head at how rude you were becoming. "I wasn't the best partner, okay?! There, I admit it, but you don't understand how it is working constantly and not being able to see family and friends and-"

"It's like you don't even know me at all," you ignorantly chuckle over his nonsense and walk towards your bed.

What a way to dismiss your feelings.

"That's not what I meant," he sighs, following after and stopping you from opening your covers and hiding underneath them. "It's just hard being away from everyone I love, I'm in a different country. It's not like I can drive an hour away and suddenly see them!"

"I can't do that either!"

"Can't you just please, please, please- consider that my mindset is not good right now," he declares, his eyes filling with sadness as his arms slowly find your waist. Taking a deep breath, you watch as he looked up at the ceiling before biting his lip. "I know I am not being the best partner right now- or for the past few months, but I am trying."

As soon as uncertainty flushed your face, his hands tightened as his expression deepened into an emotion you never seen him explore before- dejection.

"I can't promise you I'm suddenly going to wake up and give you 110% every interaction we have," he began, his voice lowering as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "But I confess- I am being a little shit and I am willing to work on that. Just please- please don't push me away. Try to understand my situation."

He wasn't wrong, his life switched around once he accepted the role of Joel Miller and you should've known from the start he would face some difficulties. Maybe you were being too self-centered and invalidated his feeling too, not just him.

Sometimes he wasn't good with words when expressing himself and made you feel as if you weren't as popular as him, but you knew it was never his intention to hurt you like that. He had a heart and loved to use it.

Fighting over work should never be a reason to be miserable especially when it's how you both get your income.

"I-I understand," you lightly speak up, watching as his eyes light up by the sound of your now calm voice filling his ears. "I just want you to know that it didn't make me feel good-"

"Of course it wouldn't make you feel good, I was being horrible," Pedro intercepted, pulling you into a tight hug and landing his face in your neck. "And if I wasn't thousands of miles away I would totally spoil you with kisses and chocolates as my sorry."

"Chocolates are still in favor," you joke and feel him softly swat your bottom in disapproval.

Pulling away, he leans his face closer to yours and plants a sweet kiss upon your lips before backing up an inch and whispering softly, "I love you, you know that right?"

Smiling, you slowly nod and surprise him with a deeper kiss before answering him back with a familiar, "I love you, too."

"You better," he smirks, pulling his body on top of yours, hearing your light squeaks once your back hit the mattress and his lips snuck their way into the crook of your neck.

"Did you end up getting chocolates?" Andrew immediately questioned once you finished your long recollection of memories.

"That's not important," Florence rolled her eyes.

"I mean he did promise her it."

Chuckling at his curiosity, it amused you how focused he was about some candy. "Yes, he did- for like a month and then I got over them."

"Understandable," Andrew replied, looking down at his lap.

Florence jumped over him, making herself sit closer to you as he winced at her sudden movements. "Then what happened?! I mean, there had to be more right?"

"My god woman, I hope you're not working for TMZ," Andrew joked.

She shushed him before leaning closer to you, signaling you to continue on with your memories. "After that fight, things became pretty normal again. We would call each other with far more energy than before and he would even fly back home often to keep our communication strong."

"And how long did that last?"

Frowning, you took a small breath. "Like three months- then we started fighting more."

"Over?"

Rubbing your face, you groaned. "He went back to lacking energy! But that's not even the worst part."

"Please don't tell me he cheated," Andrew begged, covering his eyes with his hands while pulling a sorrow look. "I would never be able to look at him the same."

"I don't know if he did cheat- but I did find out two months before we ended things that he stayed the night at his exes."

Loudly gasping, the company you had began freaking out with their jaws dropping- literally. Florence angrily furrowed her brows, "you've got to be kidding? How is that allowed in a relationship?- It's not!"

Crossing your legs, you shrug as a way to answer her. You really did wonder what was going through his head when he did that. Sadly, you couldn't believe a word he said after you found out what he did.

Maybe that's why you were fine with ending things- because the trust was slowly disappearing.

"Not to mention he would always be with her and ditch plans with me," you form a tight smile, trying not to make things awkward but it was too late.

Who could possible hear this and not feel embarrassed for you? Classic move on his part to follow the 'being friends with my ex is okay' stereotype, but it only left you feeling unwanted and flawed.

Were you not good enough to be in his arms all those times he ditched you for her? And why couldn't he tell you what was really going on- unless he was truly hiding something unspeakable.

"Spill the beans."

Hearing a door slam, you jump up in a daze. You could feel sleep still linger on your body as you crank your neck to the side, capturing the bright '12:47 pm' located on top of your nightstand.

Slowly yanking your body up, you don't stretch as you hurry out of your room to the living room in search of the mysterious person who was either your missing boyfriend or an intruder.

Catching sight of his bright yellow t-shirt as he opens the refrigerator, you could feel your body boil up. "Where have you been? You snuck out last night without even telling me- do you even understand how worried I was?!"

Watching as he gradually turns his head to face yours, Pedro closes the fridge before leaning against the kitchen counter- completely relaxed despite your current state.

"I was out with friends," he declared, grinning to try and take pressure off from you- it didn't work. "I'm sorry, I will tell you next time. I didn't mean to worry you, my love."

Placing your hands on your hips, it pains you that you secretly don't believe a word he's saying. Normally, if this were the case, he would text you if you were sleeping or call you in the morning to inform you with what he'd done.

He did neither one.

Maybe you should test him? Ask him questions and see if he'll freeze up?

"And who were you with?"

He smiled, grabbing a cup from the pantry while easily answering, "Diego and Oscar- we had a couple of drinks and Oscar thought it would be best I stay the night."

Nodding swiftly, you examine him to see if there were any signs of him lying- there weren't. Fuck, you forgot he was an actor. It's literally his job to control his emotions! "And why didn't you call or at least send a simple text?"

After hearing your words, Pedro sends you a small smile before gently placing his cup down. Walking up to you, he opens his arms. "Baby, is that why you're so upset? Because I didn't call?"

Before you could answer, he engulfs you in his arms before swaying you both around. Feeling vibrations as he let out light giggles, you instantly dropped any suspicions you may have had because he had to tell the truth- he would never lie to you.

It's surreal how easily you could throw any convictions out the window when he touched you. It's like he jogged your memory.

"Well, why didn't you at least text?"

Removing his head from your neck, he squeezes you waist and sends you an amused smirk . "Because I was insanely drunk and if I would've used my phone it probably would have resulted in me leaving you hundreds of drunk voicemails confessing my love for you."

"And that's bad?"

He chuckled, shaking his head before pinching your side. "No, but it sure as hell is annoying."

Standing up straighter, you cautiously nod at his answer and watch as he lovingly smiled down at you. "Okay, I believe you."

"Did you really believe him?" Andrew asked.

"I call bullshit," Florence confidently declares, strong on her view that Pedro was not an honest person.

"Let me finish the story!"

Loud footsteps could be heard near your hallway as you stood behind the oven, trying your best to not burn these damn chocolate chip cookies.

Such a basic recipe yet so complex- it was truly aggravating.

"Y/n? Where are you?!" you heard you assistant squeal from a distance.

Trying to properly put your mitten on, you murmur a small "kitchen" before preparing yourself to open the oven. The amount of times you burned yourself thinking it was cool enough not to wear protection-

Point is- always wear protection.

Opening the oven door, you pull the tray of freshly baked cookies towards you as the footsteps became clearly audible. Right when the cookies were in your grip and being lifted, you heard your assistant yelp-

"Pedro was caught leaving his ex's house two days ago."

Throwing yourself up into a standing position, you forget about the tray of cookies until you feel the burning sensation upon your left arm. You accidentally pulled the tray too close to you. "Ow!"

Instantly panicking, your assistant rushes to your side in support and grabs a towel to fill with ice. Pressing downwards on the wound, you wince at the pressure that was building.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you still question, extremely curious to uncover what this situation was.

His ex? That's absurd, he hasn't dated anyone in years when you first met. It's definitely not like he was in contact with them when you made it official, he was always firm when it came with communicating with past relationships.

That was a big no-no, especially when one of your ex's tried reaching out after your last movie dropped. Pedro made it very clear how unhappy he was when he made an appearance at your premiere- your boyfriend not daring to leave your side and even blocking your view whenever your ex had the chance to gawk you up close.

At the time, people thought Pedro only attended because he was close with the director and has always been friendly with other actors. Little did they know he was being extra friendly with you behind the curtains.

"Someone snapped photos of him outside of her door! It looks like he just woke up, too." Grabbing the phone from her hands, you pull it closer to your face and watch what the screen uncovered.

There he was, your boyfriend of two-years smiling brightly as he steps outside her door in the clothes he wore the night before. The same ones he manipulated you with about being with Diego and Oscar that night.

Not just that, but peering on the side of the door was indeed his tall, beautiful ex who definitely aged like fine wine. Hell, she was gorgeous and everybody knew that.

And the fact that they broke up due to their long distance, at the time, did not help this situation. Now that they lived a few cities away, what now? Were you just a doormat he could walk all over and eventually throw away whenever he wanted something new?

Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, you refuse to take your eyes off the screen as your assistant begins speaking. "Did you know he slept over?" Glancing up, she takes your downcast face as an answer and swiftly pulls you in a tight hug. "Oh no, I'm so sorry."

You were sorry for yourself, too. How could he lie right to your face so easily knowing he was doing it- intentionally. And the most fucked up part was he probably knew you would believe him- just like all the other times you did.

"I saw that picture!" Andrew exclaimed, bewildered at his recollection. "I thought the paparazzi caught him lacking after a hook-up- damn, I wish I would've known you were together sooner."

"Same, I would have unfollowed him," Florence added. "And nobody would've known it was because of you- since you two never been public."

Forcing a smile, you give her a tiny nudge on the arm. "Gee, thanks for being so considerate."

"Continue!"

"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before your flee.

Let's just say, things were pretty...eventful once you discovered his scheme.

For starters, after bawling your eyes out on your poor assistant's shoulder, she made her departure in order to clean up the spare bedroom she offered you to take if you weren't comfortable staying at your own place.

You accepted.

Once she was out the door, you fled to your bedroom and grabbed any suitcase close by and began stuffing it to the brim, not caring how disorganized it was professing as you reached for more clothes.

You were almost done packing your second bag full of makeup and bathroom necessities when you heard your front door open. Jumping up, you felt your eyes widen once you heard your name being chanted on by your boyfriend. "Y/n?!"

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, drastically glancing around your now messy bathroom to make changes to your plan- only take things you really need.

Seconds pass and you find yourself zipping your bag and rushing out the door, that was until your body roughly collided with another- causing you to drop your belongings and land on the floor. Groaning, you hesitantly rise, immediately finding your boyfriend's body nearing yours as he pleads to help you off the ground.

"Baby, I'm sorry! I didn't see you coming out," he apologizes, using his fingertips to clasp your forearms to level you. "Look, I need to tell y-"

"Get off of me," you grit, forcibly slapping his palms off you, causing him to cease and stare stunned. He has never seen you once be this aggressive. Sure, you would reject his embrace whenever you two fought here and there, but slap? Not ever.

Brushing roughly past him, you gripped your larger suitcase by its handles and made a beam to the closest exit. You couldn't be around him, not when thoughts of him being unfaithful constantly drowned your head.

A strong tug of your makeup bag made you halt your movements, not by choice, as Pedro made sure to tighten his grip to prevent you from leaving. Glancing down at his now white, clenched hands, you glare. "Let go."

Shaking his head, he stared you down- irritated that you would just pack up and leave so quickly without even hearing his side of the story. Yes, he should have told you what really happened that night- but he knew how you'd react.

It was better to keep it sealed until he was ready to unveil- or so he thought.

"You let go," he hissed, raising one of his hands and smacking yours with it. You hate how much stronger he still was while only using one hand while you had two- fuck his strength and your poor muscles.

Groaning, you dig your feet onto the ground harder as you continue your tug-a-war charade with your selfish boyfriend who didn't seem to believe space was an understandable coping mechanism after he shattered your small heart.

"Fine," you yelp, shoulders falling slightly as he eases his grip- still holding on though. "We both let go on 3."

Tilting his head, he suddenly grew suspicious by your random middle ground. He knew you well enough to know you don't give up that easily, especially when he's fully sure, by your bolting efforts, you saw the picture. "How do I know you won't just run off after?"

"You're faster and stronger than me, you'll catch me eventually."

Internally agreeing, he knew you had a point. Even if you did escape, your little legs weren't going to get you far- he knows from all the times he tackled you down after you countlessly would steal his food.

"1," you begin, eyeing him to see if he would follow.

"2," he stared at you back, cautiously watching your every step.

Taking a deep breath, you count again. "3!" With that, you release your grip from your bag and watch as he still clutches on to the strap. "What the hell- we agreed on 3 we'd both let go!"

Nervously chuckling, he placed the bag on the ground and sheepishly smiled at you. He was glad to see you finally calming down. "Sorry, I didn't think you would actually do it."

Sending him an annoyed glance, he scratches the back of his neck for assuming you wouldn't follow your word. "Trust me, I always tell the truth."

Wincing at your cold tone, he frowns by your hard demeanor. "About that- I was going to tell you-"

Softly placing a hand over your head, you release a sound of discomfort and miss the way his eyes wander in curiosity.

"Can we talk about this after I take my supplements? I am not feeling too good," you cut him off, slowly touching your forehead as you watch his concern grow. "I forgot to take them this morning."

"You know you get bad migraines when you don't take them," he declared, sighing as he raised his hand and began softly rubbing your temple in ease.

He believed you were being serene because you weren't livid and allowed him to stop you from leaving- how wrong he was.

"I know but I had a crammed morning-"

"This is why we need to hire someone to walk Leia, we don't have enough time majority of the week!" he exhales, making you stare at the floor for the point taken. But there was no way you'd hire someone to walk your dog, that's ridiculous and a waste of money. "We'll talk after, let me grab them- stay here."

Sadly nodding, you allow him to flee towards your bathroom in search for your medicine. Peering you head a few inches to the side, you wait till the coast is clear before slowly, but firmly, grabbing your once lost bag and dashing out of your bedroom.

"I almost forgot about Leia," you muttered to yourself, instantly feeling bad at the thought of how quick you were to forget your baby. How terrible of a mother were you.

And what even was more mind blowing was how Pedro didn't catch your innocent acting. Truthfully, he must be trying to be extra helpful so you would believe him. Too late.

Finding your white corgi near the kitchen, you whistle lowly for her to follow as you peddled your way to your garage. "C'mon doggie, if daddy notices our escape plan he won't let us leave that easil-"

"Y/n?!"

Jaw dropping, you shoot a glance of panic to your dog, who only blankly stares back, before rushing to your parked car. "Just like Batman and Robin- now jump in," you hushed, opening the back seat so you could not only throw your bags back there- but also your tiny-legged corgi who struggles at first, but eventually makes it in.

Once you jumped into your seat and turned on the car, you catch a breathless Pedro rushing out through the door to your side. "Fuck."

"You tricked me!"

"You slept with another woman, asshole!" you yell back, glaring as he rolled his eyes- outraged by how unreasonable you were becoming. All he wanted to do was sit you down and have a normal conversation about this, but instead you kept running away.

Once again, he thinks you need to work on your communication skills.

"You used your failing health to your advantage- how sick are you?" he yelped, offended.

"They were gummy supplements!"

Touching your car door, he sternly peers at you as you quickly lock your doors in case he tried opening it. "I did not sleep with another woman," he started, inhaling strongly before releasing it. "Why would I do that when I am in a committed relationship? Huh? Do you think I am capable of cheating?"

Shrugging innocently, you pull a sarcastic face. "Not sure, I do know you're capable of lying- maybe infidelity is the cherry on top?"

Mouth gapping, he sends you a look of hurt and for a second you feel terrible by your choice of words. In your heart, you wanted to take it back- but your head thought otherwise.

"I would never be unfaithful to you- that's not who I am," he firmly states, feeling like absolute shit that you would even accuse him of being with another woman when you were all he thought about every single second of the day.

Dryly chuckling, you nod along to his words. He feels his heart ache, as if hundreds of knives jabbed through the delicate muscle by your painful mien. Did you really think that lowly of him?

"That's who you are to me now."

Once those words flew out of your mouth and he was able to process it clearly, he paused. Whole body turning stiff and cold, he scolded you profoundly before fiercefully charging towards your car door and pounding for entrance.

It was like a nerve was touched and he was not willing to be forgiving anymore. You struck him hard and he knew you meant it out of pure anger- not genuinely, but his awareness soon became replaced with treachery and he so badly wanted you to pay for your foul words.

"Open the god damn door, y/n. You are being overdramatic- it was one night! Nothing happened!" Pedro yelled, pulling the car handle harshly as you searched through your bag that sat on your passenger seat- looking to see if you had everything you needed before fleeing.

Mentally checking off your items before departure, you inhale sharply before lowering down your car's mirror and pressing your garage remote- allowing the door to gradually rise and Pedro to panic.

Cursing in his head, he couldn't let you drive away or else he might never see you for days and he couldn't bear the thought of you moping around in agony without at least hearing from him- the man in the picture- what actually happened that night.

Pressing on the lever and angling down to reverse, you nervously press on the gas and allow your car to drift back as your poor dog watched through the backseat his dad embarrassingly urging you to not go.

You prayed the neighbors couldn't hear a thing, if the cops came you're sure you would never go out in public for at least six months.

Realizing that it was now or never, you see from the corner of your eye a figure running towards the back of your car before a loud thump was heard.

Shakily, pressing on the brakes and putting your car on park, you jump out in horror by the sight of legs near your back tires.

You hit him.

"Shit!" you gasped, involuntarily sprinting- as if your body just knew how to react- and dropping down to your boyfriend's lifeless body-

"You ran him over?!" Andrew and Florence shrieked, interrupting your storytelling, causing you to glare and shush them.

"Shut the fuck up- it's getting to the interesting part!"

Hugging his body tightly, you could feel your face began to fall down and your body slowly begin to tremble. In a matter of seconds, you just knew your garage wasn't going to be a pretty sight to see.

Hitching your breath, you run your hands to your boyfriend's chest and shake him softly in hopes he would open his eyes- he didn't. With tears flushing down your face, you sniff as you grip onto him harder. "Please w-wake up," you begin, trying your best to keep your touch on him but you were a jittering mess. Not being able to stay still, you press your ear over his chest to see his he still had a pulse.

Sighing in relief, he did.

Squeezing his face, you frown as his expressionless face stills. Realizing he might have passed out over a concussion, your lips begin to tremble as you finally breakdown in tears and cradle him.

Leaning over from his side, you bend your body and embrace his head into your neck. "I am such a-a fucking idiot," you squeak, your eyes shutting as you don't have the power to keep them open. "I-I love you- I should've just stayed and t-talked-!"

Cutting yourself off, you ironically feel like the lifeless one despite your literal unconscious boyfriend being in your arms at the moment. Bitch, you really had the nerve. Swiftly kissing his cheek, you plunge yourself into his neck and cushion him with your body- being as fragile as ever when handling him.

Quivering in misery, you keep a strong grip onto him before you felt pressure along your side. "It's been minutes and you still haven't called 911? I could've been dead by now."

Screaming, you instantly drop the figure once on top of you and force your thighs to back up, causing you to sit perplexed on the concrete floor.

Glancing back up, you find your boyfriend brightly grinning your way, using his arms to hold his upper portion up as you looked back in confusion. Didn't you hit him?

"I was my own stunt double for some scenes," he speaks up, smiling to himself proud as you continued staying still, confused as to what had just happened. "As long as you have the right mentality- you can take a pounding."

Registering where he was going with this, you scoff and quickly allow your feet to hit the ground. Following after you, Pedro jumps at your unpleased sight and watches as you cooly open your back door to let your dog jump out before marching towards the door to your house.

"Wait? Are you mad at me for that, too?" He calls out, tilting his head in question and proceeds to get his answer by the slamming of the door behind you. "Never mind."

Angrily storming through your hallway, you accidentally run into the wooden desk placed against the wall. "Ugh!" you scream, turning around and giving it one hard kick before making your way towards your destination- the kitchen.

"What did the desk ever do to you?" Pedro mumbled to himself, stopping right by it once you were out of sight and fixing it back up against the wall, making sure the books settled on top were nested properly before going after you.

"So that's why one of the legs is chipped? I noticed that-"

"Shut up, Andrew."

"Sorry, go on."

Finding you near the blacked marbled kitchen bar, Pedro ceased his movements. To be honest, he was nervous to confront you. Not only did you find out he slept at his ex girlfriend's house, but he made you believe he was dead.

This was not going to end well.

"How could you do this to me?" He hears you ask, you back being in his peripheral view as you leaned your body over the counter, hands gripping the ends roughly.

"Do what?" he idiotically responds back, mentally slapping himself for having the audacity to question something he surely knows.

Slowly turning around, capturing his soft yet worried eyes, he catches onto your tear ones and breaks down on the inside. "Tell me the truth." you gulp, averting your eyes to your feet as you sense him bobble his head. "Did you sleep with her?"

Choking on air, he frantically shakes his head in dismay, not believing you would actually think that despite the past half an hour of him comprehending that you might so. Maybe he just couldn't believe it would ever come out of your mouth- but this whole situation made him nauseous.

Steadily finding his balance, he inched towards your frail body as you kept your contact with the floor strong, not daring to move it even when the sight of his shoes play in your mind. "Honey," he lowly calls out, lifting his fingers to your chin and hastily bringing your vision to his own. "No- I did not sleep or engage in any sexual nor romantic activity with her."

"Then why did you go to her house and not tell me?!" you cried, nudging his hand off your face, him immediately aiming towards your waist to still have you near. "Why would you do this to me? Why would you sleep over when you know how I would feel?"

"I can't tell you," he confesses, whispering softly. Feeling your face fall, you erupt into tears again as you lift up your palms to hide behind them.

Hiccuping, your hands twitch as they support your weight and force you to fall on top of the counter and continue watering your tears there. Everything was unfair and he couldn't seem to realize how bad your fights have progressed throughout the months.

"If you really care about me," you whimper, still behind your hands as he rubs circles on your waist. "You would consider my feelings and understand why I should know what you did with her."

Sighing, he releases you waist and rubs his forehead in frustration. Pedro wasn't the type to hide things in relationships. In fact, he was amazing when it came to expressing feelings and being honest while you were the same- but you typically took longer to reveal your troubles than he did.

But no matter how loyal he was to you, it wasn't his place to share someone else's business no matter who the association may be.

"I know, baby. I know- believe me," he whispers, pulling you in for a hug and lifting you off the counter as your sobs were felt among his chest. It broke his heart. "But I can't betray her, she needed me and trusted me to see her. I can't just deceive her."

"But you can do that to me?" you reply, catching him off guard as he shuts his eyes tightly by how accurate you were being. "It's okay, I understand."

"No," he shakes his head, groaning before staring you down. "You don't understand, hell- I don't understand this either. But what I need you to know is I did not kiss, flirt, wink, tease, or touch her in any sexual way. We did not have sex - there was no removing of any clothing-"

"Then why did you sleepover?!"

"She needed me," he simply replies, causing you to laugh ridiculy.

"I needed you and you left me," you spit out harshly, not believing how he could defend himself and think you would ever fine with it.

Grunting, he runs his hand over his hair before pouring all of his stress onto you. "What do you want me to do? I told you what happened- she needed me, I helped her, it took longer than expected so I fell asleep on the couch- do you want to touch my knotted back for proof? Because you can!"

"Why am I the one being yelled at?" you respond, watching his face fall in disappointment.

Staying in your position for a minute or two, you continued examining him as he did the same, not knowing where this was headed. That was until he motioned with his hand for you to move closer.

"Come here."

Furrowing your brows, you pause at his words. Did he think hugging was going to solve all of your problems- because it wasn't. "No-"

Feeling his arms glide up along your upper body and finally wrapping around your shoulders, he pressed you up against his chest into the warmest bear hug you might have engaged in.

It was...peaceful.

Sighing, he felt your body soften by the touch. Relaxing, you closed your eyes as he made it his mission to not ease up on his grip. "I didn't do anything with her," he whispers, laying his face comfortably on your shoulder. "I promise, I love you."

Sadly, his confession made you break down more as tears flooded your face and your body fell upon his grip. Easily wrapping his palms on the back of your head, he cradled you tightly and never left your sight once the rest of that day and week.

And that's how that fight ended- with you trusting his sweet nothings and letting him take over your body with his hugs and kisses because he somehow made you believe him.

Every single time.

You wish you could have moved on from that topic that night as you allowed him to show you how much he loved you, but unfortunately that wasn't an option.

Especially when paparazzi exploited more pictures with him and his ex the following weeks later.

"And what about your last fight? You know- the one that ended things," Andrew started, making you halt. "What happened then?"

Quickly standing up, you brushed your sweatpants down before sending him a tight smile. Now that you talked about sad memories you hadn't really thought of in months, you knew the mention of your last fight would only break you.

You weren't ready to undergoing the same pain you felt that night.

"I didn't know these talks about my past would take a toll on me, but they have. I don't want to talk about it, but I appreciate the two of you checking up on me- I really do, but I think its time for me to take a shower and maybe nap- it's been a tiring day."

Feeling your discomfort, Florence and Andrew exchanged a weary glance before looking back up to you, hesitantly nodding. Probably an intense memory, they were determined not to mention it again unless you came forward.

"Alright- but give us a call if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just plain old company!" Florence smiled, wrapping her arms around you for a quick hug before pulling back. "We can even have a sleepover."

"Count me out on that one," Andrew joked, bending down to give you the same hug. "But for real, you can cry on my shoulder any time."

"Thanks," you giggle, soon following them towards your front door as they say goodbye to your dog before departing in their own cars.

What an emotional day it has been.

-

"Do I really have to go? It's no use- I already seen the film. I don't want to rewatch it," you whine as your manager hushes you.

Walking down the side of the theatre, you clutch onto the oversized, black leather jacket you were wearing as your manager and assistant walked on either side of you, directing to to the entrance of a random theatre in the city.

Since the Oscars, nothing has really changed. It's been about three weeks now and there wasn't chaos anymore- it seemed like news about that night had already faded.

Regularly, you did chat with Florence, Shailene, and Andrew on the phone- individually at times throughout your past weeks- but nothing too crazy.

You all had your busy schedules and your manager was still being as hardworking as ever trying to exploit more of you to the press and on the screen. Safe to say, every time she had news it would always be something impressive.

Except for today, when she proudly announced after barging into your house during breakfast that there was a new film premiere you had to attend.

It's not like you opposed the idea- but you watched the film when the production team invited you to their private screening. It would be useless watching it again.

But as persistent as ever, your manager claimed there would be great press and directors attending the public's premiere, following with "an Oscar-nominated actress like you must make themself remembered."

As dramatic as always- but at least she was highly active in your career.

She did everything to make you get noticed, especially when you were at your lowest point mentally after your breakup.

Now onto past relationships, you hadn't heard any news regarding Pedro since you last saw him. Not that you wanted to, but for some reason he was still on your mind. Due to the fact you did sit with your friends ranting about your shared troubles, that's likely the reason.

But all jokes aside, you seriously can't stop thinking about him.

However, you were too scared to admit this to anyone. You tried telling Florence, but every time you mentioned his name she would immediately disregard him, pissed by how he treated you.

Which you loved that she had your back, but you needed someone else to have his own- oddly.

Maybe it was your head deep in thoughts that revealed how you were feeling, but your assistant seemed to notice that you weren't okay- mentally.

After checking in and finding a small crowd, you accepted that maybe most of the audience were in their seats already despite the film starting in almost an hour. Nudging you once your manager left to find one of the producers, you glanced at her as she motioned you to move towards the wall.

"What's up?"

She made a face, practically laughing at your question before continuing on. "Why don't you tell me 'what's up?' The whole ride here you've been silent and I know it's not because you were tired- you slept all afternoon, what's really up?"

Chuckling, you roll her eyes at how nosy she was being- but you knew she only wanted to help you. After working together for years, it was a ritual both of you performed: don't let the other be sad.

Surprisingly, it worked every time. She would hide you from people who upset you while you let her have more vacation days whenever she felt the same.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're thinking about him, huh."

Eyes widening, you shake your head quickly as she laughs at your poor attempt of denying her idea. But she knew right from the moment you got lost in your head that he was the one to blame.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she whispered loudly, causing you to shove her as she laughed louder.

"Shut up, someone might hear you," you hiss, watching as she tried holding her breath to stop herself from cackling again. She just looked like a fish in need of water.

"Don't think about him then," she teased. "If it's making you lost in your thoughts! Wait- why is he in your head? I thought you hated him?"

Coughing, you shake your head. "I don't hate him- I could never."

"Never?" she raises a brow in shock. "I think we're seeing some progress here. You're falling back in loveeeee with him."

"No way," you scoffed as she grinned heavily. "I'm just thinking about the Oscars since that was the last work-related event I've been to since today and you know- he was there so he ended up in my mind...for a little."

She slowly nods, teasing a smug as makes it pretty clear she did not believe one word you said. Your assistant has seen everything, so she is quite familiar with your thoughts regarding Pedro.

She knows when your happily, sadly, angrily, and crazily daydreaming about him. In this case, she's stuck between happily and crazily- not seeming to find any hints of fury and sorrow through your expressions.

But definitely warmth and frustration- all due to him not being able to leave your head.

"When are you just going to admit you still love him?" She blurts out, causing you to snap your heard towards her. "Everybody sees it, you obviously have a soft spot for him if you let him be near you."

"Near me? He's never near me," you laugh. "And I never show signs I want him back, I don't. I made it clear for months now after perfectly avoiding him at all costs."

"Yeah, but he's still on your mind- that must mean something," she declares, causing your small grin to fall into a tight line.

That must mean something.

Did it?

Shaking that thought away, you reject her idea. "It means he traumatized me."

"It means you're in denial and scared to be with him again," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, I just know you two are meant to be. Next time you see him, talk to him. Tell him how much you care for him- even if you don't want to admit it in a lovey-dovey way. It can be friendly!"

Giving her a strange look, she lowers her energy quickly before looking around the room, making sure no one saw how enthuastic she became.

"You get the point!" she rolls her eyes. "Just be nice, maybe the both of you can form a friendship or just drift apart knowing there's no hard feelings."

"But there is hard feelings," you declared, pointing out the obvious.

There is a reason why you two broke up, like there is also a reason why you despise him. It all comes down to history and actions, which you've both experienced- which is why, again, you broke up.

"Just..." she started, thinking about it for a second before sending you a sincere glance. "-give it a shot. If you don't hate him, like you said, it wouldn't be terrible to be civil."

Slowly nodding, you understand where she's coming from. This tension between Pedro and you was getting old, and the fact it was only you adding fuel to the non-existent fire since you've broken up is sad.

Especially when all he's been around you was sweet and considerate of your feelings, leaving you alone when he felt your energy- except for that one night, but you have to admit that was your fault for riling him up.

The roughness of heels came marching your way, forcing the both of you to instantly lift your head- finding your manager striking a fake breaming grin with two men beside her. She was trying too hard.

"Girls! This is Greg and Shawn- the writers of the film!" she exclaimed, fluttering her lashes rapidly as both men awkwardly raised a hand, waving it.

Releasing a tiny chuckle, you do the same as your assistant walks closer, sticking out her hand to fully gain their attention and introduce herself.

What can you say- she was a charmer.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, your manager slightly pulls you closer to the strangers and strangely bobbles her head- preparing whatever gibberish was about to spit out of her talkative mouth.

"Y/n- the boys thought it would be a great idea to sit in the vip selection among other A-listers- isn't that just lovely? We are very grateful for your offer-"

Boys? Oh god- now she was bonding for her hopeful chances of getting a call for an audition.

Compelling a sweet smile, you feel the only possible response you could give them was a meaningless 'thank you so much' after she literally put you on blast to communicate more. The funniest part about this situation was- you already watched the film!

Clearly you never met these writers- but instead the director himself! Your manager should be satisfied enough with that.

"Would you look at the time,-" Greg- you believe, softly gasps while raising his arm to examine the tiny apple watch planted. "Guests are probably filling up in their seats by now, terribly sorry- but we should probably go."

"I hadn't realized how close we were to showtime- we certainly must continue off our conversation after the film is over!" Shawn proclaims, making your manager nod far too quickly. "I look forward to meeting again."

With that, the two men inclined their motions of farewells before taking off down a dimmed hall, likely finding the exact destination set to premiere their comedic film.

Sighing, you send daggers to your managers who barely blinks before coughing out a swift, "What?"

"You really couldn't wait till after the film was over to sweet talk them?"

Dramatically rolling her eyes at your annoyance, she waves you off by your sudden introversion. It was her job to throw her best compliments about you too them, and she knew you were still too young to understand that everything she did was for a cost.

You.

"C'mon grumpy, let's locate the theatre before you start whining that your feet hurt, too."

Feeling your mouth slightly drop from her remark, you hear your assistant cackle right beside you, using her right palm to hold in her giggles while you mentally prepared for what comeback to throw her way.

You got nothing.

Huffing, your legs followed hers as she guided the two of you towards the same hall the men approached minutes before. The closer you've walked, the larger the capacity gathered around.

For such a low-budget film, it sure did gain quite the crowd.

As the rolling of the ending credits flooded the screen once you sat the last two and a half hours trying to act as if you didn't know what was coming next, you wish you had it in you to say the second time made up for the first- but it didn't.

There we have it, tonight was just not your night and endlessly enough- you couldn't blame it on some silly excuse of watching the same film over again.

Not even your assistant's sneaky offerings of her red licorice lifted your blues- and that speaks enough volume to say the least.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" the whole-heartedly voice of your manager's voice filled your ears as the three of you sat in the same lobby as before, still not finding a way to escape a cold room.

Oh how you abominated the sharp hits of the air conditioning- it frankly made coming to the theaters a horror unless layers of clothing and a blanket was tagged along.

"Why can't we leave? The film is done and people are walking out."

"We still have to talk to Shawn and Greg!" your manager declared, presenting a look of pure determination to get her way with their levels of skill.

Groaning, you throw your head in absolute exhaustion. Fairly, if your manager hadn't had made such an early visit during the morning hours you're sure you would've been in a better mood.

It was like the more you interacted, the less energy you had to give.

In order to survive the next few hours, you needed your phone or who knows how your fake laughters will sound.

And you call yourself an actress.

Sliding your hand to the back of your pockets, you wait for the feel of your large iphone to surface- but that moment never comes. Swiftly, you check your leather jacket ones just in case you slipped it there without realizing.

You didn't.

Anxiously glancing towards your assistant, your trembling hands find her arm. "Have you seen my phone? It's not on me."

Examining your hands before meeting your eyes, she shrugs it off. "Relax, no need to have a nervous breakdown- I'm sure you left it in the car with your bag-"

"No, I had it on me during the previews."

"We did go to the bathroom, too- why not just go check those two places?" she suggests. Concerned filled you, hoping nobody was capable of actually stealing your phone- it would be such a hassle getting another one. "I'll check the bathroom, you check our seats."

Agreeing, the two of you sneakily escape your manager when her back was turned, unpleasantly speed walking down the familiar hall before parting ways to your needed locations.

Opening the thick, black doors and striding up the long runway, your eyes are met with the same darkened seating area you were in less than twenty minutes ago.

Then and there, you use this desertion in power- running towards the middle rows consider 'vip' and begin your inspection. Fuck, you wish your had some form of light to help- you couldn't see shit.

Sliding your fingers among the seat, you lift up the cushions in hopes it mysteriously pops up, but all you find is pieces of popcorn and gum glued down.

Gross.

Feeling your eyes begin to water, you were sure you were seconds away from crying like a little kid over the loss of your beloved possession before you heard a deep voice call out for your attention.

"Is this yours? I heard it ringing when I came back in and- uh," the person froze, not having the ability to finish off their sentence as you gradually lifted your body off the floor into their view.

Hopelessly praying the stranger was regarding your phone, your eyes search for their hands first and there it was- your phone!

The corners of your mouth lift up, as well as the creases around your eyes as you internally cheer for your discovery. However, it faltered once you noticed a familiar tattoo laying on one of their palms. Moving your eyes up, you're sure your smile completely disappears once you recognize those brown eyes.

How did you not catch onto his voice from down there?

"Uh- yeah- that's mine," you nervously reply, choking on your words that probably made you sound like you were about to lose consciousness by how strung you were, and hesitantly reach out for the device.

Pedro quietly lets you grab it, not saying one word as your hands collide for a split second before the object was back in your own. You didn't miss the name that appeared on the lit up screen when touched- your assistant must have tried calling you to see if the phone would ring in the bathroom.

Smart.

Avoiding awkward farewells, Pedro swiftly turns around and makes his way down the theatre stairs, not daring to continue on with the barely existing conversation you shared. He's leaving, that fast?

Thinking about all your past interactions, he would always try to chat with you- even when you did give him the coldest shoulder of all time- because that's who he was: kind.

But now he's...walking away?

"Hey- uhm," you begin, following clumsily after him, almost tripping on one of the steps as he reaches his final steps and doubtfully turns your way. Once you stood another step ahead of him, you feel that swirling feeling in your stomach again.

You were nervous- you've never felt this way around him during your breakup- never.

Adjusting your arms inside your jacket, a small smile is extracted out of you as you watch his stay flat. He did not look interested one bit and it frightened you to death. "Thanks for finding my phone- I-I was really scared there for a minute."

Not reacting to your little laugh at the end, he replied- dull. "I didn't know it was yours, I would have given it to guest services if so."

Ouch, you're sure you're hurt expression was recognizable on the outside as much as it pained you on the inside. He really did not want to talk to you, even when you're showing your appreciation.

He really was over you.

"I know," you squeak out, not missing the way his eyes tiredly scanned your own as his body stood there stiff as ever. "I just wanted to thank you, that's all- you saved me a lot of trouble."

Coldly laughing from that, he nods. "I'm sure I have."

Your body tingled with rage as he carelessly ignored your warmth and threw jabs in return. "What's with the attitude? I'm doing nothing wrong here- I'm trying to be friendly."

Inching up, his face presents a sullen one and you immediately feel intimated by the height he owned and used as his advantage. Just the first few seconds before he spoke alone made you feel his displeasure. "And what about all those times I was friendly? I received shit so forgive me for allowing you to experience the same treatment you give others."

Loss for words, you were speechless and didn't know what to say back. For one, you were alarmed by his hard demeanor he gifted to you. Second, humiliation soared throughout as he called out your imperfections.

In other words, he wanted you to know you were a bitch.

"And I take that back but-"

Pedro was about to burst out laughing in front of your face, but he held himself together in sake of your feelings. Can you believe that, despite the misery he still cared for your state of mind. "Taking back isn't apologizing."

Sneering, you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "Apologize for what? You were the one who fucked my life over."

Scoffing, he shakes his head in vexation by your lack of empathy- as always. "Countless of times we would contemplate our faults and how we could move on and now you're discounting your wrongdoings- typical."

Pedro did not want to have another unpleasant argument with you, especially in a public setting again, and decided it was best to just walk away. If he kept his mouth shut, he wouldn't make this altercation worse.

Meeting his broad back, you lightly gasp as he ignores you altogether and makes his leave far too early for your liking. Charging towards him, you feel his back solidify once your fingers yank him to a halt.

You were not done with this conversation, but you did know once you got home you were definitely going to regret how toxic you were radiating in the room.

"Typical? What do you mean by that?"

"Knock it off and let me walk away, y/n," Pedro warns, still facing his back towards you after blocking your attempts of moving him. "We both know how badly this will end."

You know, but for some reason you don't want him to leave. Was that so bad?

"No, I wanna hear exactly what you have to say about me- maybe it'll make me recognize the ignorant ego I have."

"You're talking out in anger, you're trying to cause a fire that I won't let you ignite," he simply replies, his eyes still not found by his hidden appearance.

Very poetic.

Scowling profoundly, you don't realize what you're doing until you're finally met with his provoked display after. Stalking around his body, you stand in front of him and jab a finger towards his chest. "You're preventing me from bettering myself, isn't that what you always wanted?"

Leaning down until his face with inches away from yours, you make out his hard features clearly now. His face expressed discomfort as his eyes creased while lifting- even his lips stayed hard as a rock. "I'm going to tell you one more time, let me go."

Ignoring his cold shoulder, he inhaled a sharp breath before taking matters into his own hands. You don't want to listen? Fine. But he wasn't going to let you drag him into this any further.

Right as you push another finger up against him, your wrist was taken and roughly pushed down by your side as Pedro's body practically belted against yours. "Get off me!"

"Not until you stop fucking around," he grunted, immediately widening his eyes in realization. He knows you don't like when he casually curses directly to you- even when he doesn't harm. "Sorry- I-I meant when you stop playing around."

Praying that a smile doesn't escape you, it made you feel some type of way capturing his manners and how even though you two were on rocky terms- he still had some respect for you.

"Why are we even fighting right now?" you sigh, slowly softening your muscles in forfeit.

"You tell me- it sounds like you want my attention," he casually replied, releasing your hands and stepping back an inch. "Considering you won't let me leave."

"I'm just trying to have a normal, polite conversation! Is that so wrong?"

Softly laughing, he shakes his head in disappointment. "You don't get it."

Scrunching your face, you become lost by his words. "Get what?"

Scanning the wall before meeting your eyes again, Pedro motions his hands between the two of you. "What do you think will come out of us having a conversation? Acquaintances? Maybe a friendship?"

Thinking about it for a second, you feel your head eventually nod as he squeezes his eyes shut in return. Was that not what he's been trying to do- end in good terms? "It's what's healthy for us."

"Us?!" Pedro groans, sending you a tired gaze that had you weak to the knees. "There is no 'us' anymore. You made that perfectly clear after causing a scene last month in front of your friends."

"I didn't plan on that happening a-"

"I'm even letting go the bigger scene you caused inside the after party- isn't that enough to understand why I feel this way?" he adds on, frustrated that you would think otherwise.

You were the one who caused the attention and brought a bad look on his name. He should be shouting at you like you would have done to him if the roles were reversed.

"I'm not saying we should get back together, all I want-"

"-is a friendship? Some sort of relation that won't make us strangers?" he interjects, causing you to stay silent. That was all he needed to understand what you really wanted: not to let him go. "Look, we had our history, but I don't think it's good we keep in contact anymore."

You swear you felt all air leave your body as your face felt cold. Was he breaking up with you- in life itself?

"I-uhm don't- I don't understand," you cough, scared to make a bigger fool out of yourself. You're sure you probably look like a ghost by how much color you've lost since his recent reveal and again- you were grateful this room was dim. "Why can't we at least be friends? Not even that- why can't we at least know we have each other in our lives? Why end up as strangers?"

"What do you mean? We hadn't talked to each other in almost a year till last month! We basically are strangers," he exclaimed, causing you to look down at your feet as your heart ached.

He wasn't wrong- you just hadn't realized he's been right. And to blame was you, not him. You pushed him away in the first place, he was only kind enough to oblige.

And it was surely pathetic how now you wanted him back in your life, even if it meant not even talking just to assure yourself he still had your back.

He didn't.

"Y/n..." he sadly muttered, trying his best not to hurt your feelings as you were still continued to stay downwards- not wanting to disclose more hurt. "You didn't even say happy birthday to me, how can you be considered a friend? Friends don't do that, not to me at least."

This caused you to glance back up to him, disagreeing immediately as to what he was trying to get at. Of course you knew it was his birthday, you celebrated two with him in the past! "I didn't want to make things weird-"

"You never do but still avoid me like the plague and breakdown whenever I'm too close to your liking. I'm sorry for trying to do what's best and leave us in the past,-" he explains, closing his eyes in discomfort, "-but I can't keep letting this go on. I'm too old to be going back and forth as if this is some high school relationship- it's not."

High school relationship- you never knew simple three words could have you shrinking in guilt.

"And I know things will be easier for you when the time comes- I won't be around to nag you," Pedro tries to lighten up the mood but you can't break the line upon your lips. You were emotionless and it made Pedro upset.

Why would he be upset? You finally deserved learning your lesson after treating him as if he was nothing to you. But despite all your flaws, he still cared for you.

He cares so much that he's willing to let you go so you can do better things in life- without him.

Trying to find the right words to say, you give up. There isn't much to discuss now that he wants nothing to do with you.

You fucked up- for real this time.

In fact, you shouldn't even be hurt- you wanted this. Or at least that's what you thought before last month when he wasn't on your mind 24/7.

Maybe it was the way he begged for your forgiveness after not seeing each other for so long that made you realize how badly you adored him nearby.

Maybe it was the attention he was giving you after you continuously rejected his pleads, furthering the argument until he stormed off in the end.

And maybe you should've took his concluding estrangement announcement seriously before he left you last month.

But just like they say, you never know what you have until it's gone.

"I see," you quietly respond, slowly nodding as a faint grin forms among Pedro's lips, appreciating your cooperation over this mess. "Maybe it is best if we stray away from each other- you can even delete my number."

"I already have," he accidentally blurts out, not realizing how bad that sounds until he hears it himself and cringes. Your sufferable reaction didn't make things better.

"You know what," you fake a laugh, trying to calm your voice as you feel it about to crack any second. The tears were heading your way- you just knew it. "Fuck you."

Pedro's face falls, taken back by your inappropriate language. "Excuse me?"

Noticing your rushed attitude, he wanted to stop you and tell you everything was alright. That everything was going to be easy and how the two of you would get passed this.

But he knew he'd be lying.

"You heard me, fuck you," you casually slip out, scoffing as his eyes darken. "For someone who's so kind to others, I would have thought you would know what words were right to say."

"You're one to talk, sweetheart," he chuckled, staring at you in repulse. "Every time you talk you always have to neglect someone else, I'm fucking glad I don't have to witness that ever again."

"Me too, my family was right- you are a joke who wasted my time."

With that, you make your leave to have the chance of having the last word. Maybe if you left this room faster he would forget about your comment. You knew it was harsh but you didn't know what else to say.

You wanted him to hurt- but to what extent?

Your arm was instantly tugged as Pedro pulled you back, not letting his grip go as his face was still filled with resentment. "And your team was right, you are a bitch."

Freezing, you stare at him in shock as his face doesn't fall once. What the hell is he talking about? "Get away from me or else-"

"Or else what? Weren't you the one physically blocking me from leaving minutes ago? What has changed?" he tries to smirk, manipulating you into believing how ruthless he could be when really he was dying to tell you the act he was pulling. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your face felt hot with rage as you yanked your arm off his hand, catching him by surprise as you glared at him. "I'm so glad I never took you back, you're fucking pathetic."

"And I'm insanely glad you didn’t, saved thousands returning that fucking ring."

Those twelve words made you halt and even made Pedro speechless. By the staggered look planted on his face, you could tell he didn't mean to say that.

Ring? As in, an engagement ring?

Weakly failing to stand straight, you felt your voice crack. "You were going to propose?"

Shaking his head, he swiftly backed away. "I need to go." Before you could stop him, he was already out of the theatre and probably near larger gatherings of people that would only prevent you from talking about this more.

Holding your face with your hands, you couldn't even cry. You didn't know what to do, you were utterly lost for words.

If he was really going to propose like he hinted at, what meaning did your last fight have? Nothing made sense and you don't know how you could move on from this now that he wanted you out of his life completely.

Hearing doors open, you instantly averted your gaze in hopes he had come back in and planned to properly finish what he started.

Instead, you manager came barging in while gripping onto your assistant's wrist harshly.

"Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere and to find out your stupid assistant-"

"Don't you dare disrespect her," you sternly cut her off, watching as her face falters by your sudden tone. "If you're here to pester us some more, feel free to walk home."

Laughing in shock, your manager tilts her head at your rudeness. "Excuse me? It wasn't my fault your assistant wondered off. After everything I have done to protect you and your career you feel the need to throw me out-"

"Did she hurt you?" you cut her off, focusing on your assistant who has gone quiet. You notice the redness on her small wrists before she slowly nods, looking down in fear your manager would try something else.

"You're fired," you simply state, pushing past your frantic ex- manager as you lightly guide your assistant out the door.

You ignore the rage your ex- manager unveils as you make it back to the lobby. Ignoring the waves random people sent your way in hopes of finding your destined car sooner so you could help your assistant with her injuries and be home already.

And in bed to think about what the fuck just happened tonight.

+

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[sanjisboyfie]

one piece smau: married to doflamingo edition

- it's all just male reader humbling doffy sorry guys (the man needs to b humbled anyway so i dont rlly see a problem)

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puppeteerdoffy: he doesn't like when i manspread for some reason i thought people thought it was hot 😕

tagged: notapuppet.[name]

notapuppet.[name]: there's nothing hot about being an inconvenience grow up

-> puppeteerdoffy: but i thought you loved everything i did :3

-> notapuppet.[name]: pls don't ever use that emoticon again. that doesn't suit you at all

[liked by baby555, tremboltrebl, and 90 others]

micorazon: it's a shame no one taught u manners in knowing that this is just flat out gross

-> notapuppet.[name]: i obviously chose to marry the wrong donquixote, i have many regrets in my life

-> micorazon: it's alright, affairs are always possible

-> puppeteerdoffy: rosinate, i'm gonna skewer you alive.

liked by notapuppet.[name], dancingviolet, pikapica, and 11k others

baby555: calling all sigma males !!! the key to being a business tycoon, according to donquixote doflamingo himself, is being a gay man completely in love with your husband

tagged: notapuppet.[name] and puppeteerdoffy

puppeteerdoffy: he could walk me like a dog and i'd thank him

-> baby555: he already does.

pikapica: this post could singlehandedly stop the sigma male epidemic from spreading further

-> vergolikessteak: that...or make it worse

-> diadiamonte: it's definietly gonna make it worse

notapuppet[name]: the so called business tycoon's actual secret to being successful is that i'm the one managing all the business guys pls don't b fooled

-> baby555: this is also true. thank u for keeping our business afloat and away from the hands of the creep doffy <3

[liked by notapuppet.[name], pikapica, and 100 others]

-> puppeteerdoffy: now there's no need to lie and take all of the credit that isn't even yours

liked by notapuppet.[name], vergolikesteak, and 13k others

puppeteerdoffy: appreciation post for him - even though he's a fucking liar <3

tagged: notapuppet.[name]

baby555: lover's quarrel for all the public to see

notapuppet.[name]: idk what that caption even means, but edit it before i die your hair black in your sleep babe

-> puppeteerdoffy: no.

-> vergolikessteak: i know his ass was shaking in fear when he typed that reply

[liked by notapuppet.[name], pikapica, and 100 others]

-> notapuppet.[name]: hold on no fucking way ur talking abt my comment on that post from yesterday??? ur done mf.

liked by micorazon, puppeteerdoffy, diadiadiamonte, and 15k others

notapuppet.[name]: the back of your head is at the front of my mind, maybe i'll crack it open just to see what's inside

tagged: puppeteerdoffy

diadiadiamonte: doffy is so fucked LMFAOOAO

trembletrebol: this sounds exactly like doffy is abt to say goodbye to his blonde hair tn

-> notapuppet.[name]: he most definitely is <3 appreciating his blonde hair one last time for u all to see

-> pikapica: it's okay he needed a change of appearane anyway

senorpinkloveshiswife: such romance!! praying for u tn doffy <3

puppeteerdoffy: thanks for the worry guys, but nothing is gonna happen to me tn.

-> notapuppet.[name]: the world will be watching my next post tmrw morning

-> puppeteerdoffy: i love you, too, my entire world. so lucky to have such a loving husband as you to keep me in check and hold me accountable

-> baby555: LMFAOOAOAO

liked by pupeteer doffy, dr.law, and 20k others

notapuppet.[name]: guys what do u thinkkkkk he loves itttt

tagged: puppeteerdoffy

pikapica: he looks quite pissed

dr.law: LMFAOAOAOOA BOZO GOT OWNED IN HIS FUCKING SLEEP, WHAT A FUCKING LOSERRRRRRRR!!!! thank u [name], from the bottom of my heart for humiliating this fool

-> notapuppet.[name]: no problem law <3

baby555: at least he looks less like a creep w black hair

-> notapuppet.[name]: that's what i told him, but he refused to listen to reason

puppeteerdoffy: i will repent for my sins for the rest of my life, my love

-> trembletrebol: this is definitely a dynamic you two have.

notapuppet.[name]: he looks sexier with black hair anyway idk

-> puppeteerdoffy: suddenly, i love my black hair, i should have been born with black hair, i wish i could have black hair forever.

[liked by notapuppet.[name], micorazon, and 90 others]

liked by puppeteerdoffy, baby555, and 19k others

notapuppet.[name]: i love doffy so much guys pls don't get it twisted he just needs a humbling every now and then

tagged: puppeteerdoffy

puppeteerdoffy: you're gonna make it up to me later.

pikapica: thank u for being the one to humble him, but either way, i hope u two have fun on ur resort trip!

baby555: lord knows how badly [name] needed this trip after how much doflamingo torments him. every. single. day.

-> notapuppet[name]: you always understand my struggles, i appreciate this

micorazon: have fun don't have too much sex

-> puppeteerdoffy: who do you think you're talking to ???

diadiadiamonte: enjoy your getaway trip bosses!

[liked by notapuppet[name], puppeteerdoffy, and 70 others]

liked by notapuppet.[name], micorazon, and 14k others

puppeteerdoffy: can't wait to make him a dad

tagged: notapuppet[name]

notapuppet.[name]: aww this is so cute ( i don't trust your ability to take care of children yet, but we can start with getting a dog or something babe)

-> puppeteerdoffy: u say this as if me babysitting law for a majority of my life didn't make him turn out fine

-> dr.law: i literally hate u and wish we never met???

[liked by notapuppet.[name], micorazon, and 100 others]

micorazon: awww these are such cute photos

-> puppeteerdoffy: fuck off my instagram u freak

baby555: a shame that a man as attractive as [name] is stuck with u for life

-> dancingviolet: a man that's good with kids>>>

-> puppeteerdoffy: do i have to block everyone off of my page what is up with you guys

notapuppet.[name]'s story:

smacked his ass after taking this photo

puppeteerdoffy replied to your story: i have a reputation to uphold yk?? ur so lucky i love u more than anything.

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱ #one piece smau #one piece modern au #one piece x male reader #x reader #x male reader #one piece imagines #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x male reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x male reader #doflamingo imagines

[annaphoenix1994]

Only One Boundary

Masterlist:

When it comes to his body, Simon is all ears for anything to do for you. However, he only has one boundary that he’s hesitant to compromise with now.

“Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”

🇬🇧 Photo Credit: vhenan_virabelasan on Instagram! The work is amazing!🇬🇧

Tags: Smut/Mild Angst/Domestic Simon/Dominant Simon/Sensual Sex/Romantic Sex

He was home - finally home from what was promised to be his last tour. To say he was exhausted was an understatement. For the first few days, he did nothing but practically lay around and do nothing. His body physically told him no.

After the passing few weeks, you noticed that Simon became a bit more relaxed with being home. He still shut himself off on some days, but one thing was always the same: how he treated you. From driving you to work, to helping you in the kitchen, and pleasing you in the bedroom - he never changed that side of him.

Although you were both ecstatic to be home to be together, when Simon would shut down, he shut down completely. He still didn’t know how to comprehend all of the negative thoughts he had on himself as well as fighting his own battles within his own head. He truly didn’t want to lash out at you, but sometimes you made it hard for him not to as he couldn’t look at that gleam of worry in your eyes when you’d ask him what was wrong. He always had anger issues, but never once would he raise his voice at you. To avoid this, he’d simply isolate himself to cool off. But as said, you made it hard for him to not isolate himself. It wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t care. Being completely alone and fighting was the only thing he was used to.

You two had gotten into a mild argument earlier that day, causing him to shut down after you had left for work. He didn’t see that you were in tears on your way to your job, nor did he care at that moment. He was too heated to care about anything else. He kept himself at bay, shutting himself off after hearing the crack of pain in your voice as all you did was ask him to talk to you about it. You just didn’t understand and that was okay, so he would simply say “Okay.” before isolating himself for the rest of the day.

He ignored your worried texts, checking in on him every couple of hours. It broke your heart to watch him read your messages and not reply. He knew this, too, but he truly didn’t want to say anything to hurt your feelings even more than he already did.

*

“What’s wrong, Simon?” You asked with a saddened gleam in your eye after noticing he had begun to work himself into his own darkness again.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you.

You stepped closer to him, attempting to reach out and pull back the hood of his jacket as he was preparing a pre-workout drink. He liked to go out and run before going to the gym. He avoided your touch, keeping his eyes towards the task at hand. You grew slightly annoyed, but chose not to say anything about it. “You know you can talk to me about it,” You said softly, putting your hand on his left shoulder with light pressure, attempting to have him look at you. He could hide his emotions all he wanted, but his eyes always told you what you needed to know. You knew when he was angry, upset, happy, and aroused. You were the only person who knew him like the back of your own hand. “I don’t want you to get lost in yourself, baby.”

“I’m not.” He replied lowly.

You frowned, desperately wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him in a comforting embrace that he always loved. Craved, even, but not today. He was in no mood to feel any type of soft emotion when he felt he deserved none of it. He felt you step closer to him, placing your palm under his collarbone of his left shoulder. He retracted quickly, grabbing your wrist and holding it towards your own. He looked away after hearing your innocent yelp, immediately regretting it. “Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”

You held back tears, desperately wanting him to talk to you about what was haunting him, but he didn’t want you to know. Any other time, he would always embrace you touching him, especially his chest. You huffed, “What’s wrong, Simon? Did something happen?”

“Something always happens to me when I leave,” He retorted. “It’s nothing new.”

“But this is!” You replied. “Why won’t you let me touch you? What happened to telling each other everything? You had no problem telling me what was wrong before and suddenly you can’t now?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but that’s why I’m asking you so that I can understand!”

“You don’t want to know.”

“What makes you think I don’t? This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told me about what’s happened while you were gone,” You reminded him. “Nothing can surprise me anymore.”

“You want to bet on that?” He scoffed. “I’ll give you nightmares if I tell you.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“No.”

You frowned, dreading to have to leave due to the time of your shift. “Well, let me tell you one thing: when I agreed to be your wife, we promised each other it was through thick and thin. I knew what I was getting into and I don’t regret it.”

He didn’t reply, just kept his palms resting on the counter, looking down at the pattern of the marble below him. You had a point, but he was nowhere in the mood for a surrender. The silence was then broken by your next words, “Don’t bother taking me to work today. I’ll get there myself.” You said, knowing the statement would ping in his chest, although you were surprised that he didn’t try to stop you. So, you left. And man, did those words hurt. He felt like you didn’t need him anymore. He listened for the door the shut behind you, hearing the car start after the garage door opened. “I love you.” He mumbled to himself as if he were still talking to you, knowing he’d regret it if he didn’t say he loved you in some way in fear of never seeing you again. You knew he loved you, but without the open words between you two followed by a warm kiss, it hurt.

*

You returned home that night with a frown plastered on your face. Your mood hadn’t lightened at all throughout the day. You were afraid Simon wouldn’t be home when you returned, expecting him to be blowing off his pent up energy in the gym just a while longer, but when you heard the shower running, you began to wonder how long he had been in there.

The shower in your master bathroom was one of lavish taste. It was a complete walk-in shower with a waterfall-like head, giving a relaxing experience with each use as the walls were glass, perfect for one’s viewing pleasure if desired. You leant against the door as you looked at him, clear that he was swimming in his own mind. He faced the falling water, his breathing deep as he appeared to be enjoying the feeling of the water on his face. The dog tags shone within the steam, leaving your view of his full body limited.

You thought about returning to your evening duties, leaving him to dwell within his own mind, afraid to make the issue worse for him with your prying mind, but another part of you wanted to comfort him as it was now clear he was in a vulnerable state. He knew you were watching him, but he didn’t let you know it. He wanted to feel your comforting touch against his naked and hot skin, but he understood if you chose to retreat from him. Hell, he was used to that.

But he never expected it from his own wife, even though he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

Within a few moments, he felt your delicate hands on his back before your lips pressed between his shoulder blades. You didn’t care that he was still sticky with sweat, but took the opportunity to take care of him as it was clear he needed it.

He enjoyed your kisses to his back, soon to feel a sponge against his hot skin, tilting his head upward to the falling water. You then felt his head tilt down before reaching back behind him, bringing your left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he expected your wedding ring to be taken off, but it wasn’t. It was a symbol of your loyalty and love to him, something he was guaranteed to give you with unconditionality. He then kissed your palm, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Simon,” You hummed, wrapping your other arm around his torso. “You know I’m always here as long as you’d let me.”

He nodded, pressing another kiss to your palm before guiding that hand to the new and deep scar on his left shoulder - a scar that he’d expect you to see with distaste rather than curiosity. He held your hand against it with his own, breathing heavily. The scar was deep and red as it was still healing — a scar that was earned with bravery as an enemy force stabbed him with enough force to break through his vest, thankful that he was wearing it as it was sure to puncture completely through to be a possible fatality. It was a painful reminder that if he hadn’t have been careful, he would’ve been taken from you forever.

After feeling the new scar, you didn’t once question him as to how he got it, knowing it was painful to even think about let alone speak about. Instead, you pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades.

He then turned to you, keeping your left hand secured between his and his chest, pulling it away slowly to let you look at it, keeping his eyes closed. You didn't know why he seemed so scared for you to see it as you had seen every inch of his body anyway, so you assumed that something bad had to have happened for him to seem so reluctant to let you touch him after his last tour. You carefully traced the rim of the scar with the pad of your thumb, beads of water decorating your navy blue nails. It was a deep scar with jagged edges - one with a nasty reminder leaving the imagination to wonder how it ended up this way. 

But that didn't make you love him any less. "It doesn't change you, Simon." You whispered, looking up to see his eyes closed as he seemed to be savoring your touch. Unbeknownst to you, he was reliving the battle in his head moments prior to the gesture that left a permanent mark on him. He didn't reply to your statement as he kept his focus on what was going on inside of his head. You then cupped his cheeks, watching his heavy lids open to dark orbs as his gaze was something primal. You ignored his threatening sight as you continued to rub his cheeks with your thumbs. "This doesn't change you, baby. You're still the Simon I know and love. Don't hide it from me." You cooed. 

"I could've been KIA--"

"But you weren't," You reminded him, frowning as you watched his eyes close again. "But you weren't." You repeated. 

He nodded softly against your touch, his eyes keeping shut as he felt your lips against his sternum, placing a soft kiss there. He then realized that no matter how littered his body was with scars, it didn't change how you looked at him. He looked down at your now-damp hair, admiring how much larger he was over you. Being roughly 6'4", his stature was nowhere near yours -- you were a woman with a maximum height of 5'2", leaving much room between the top of your head and his own chin when standing in front of him. 

He loved it -- loved being so much bigger than you as his intimidation factor shot through the roof. He was a mountain of a man with the natural urge for fights and carnage. Compared to you, who was delicate with the only intimidation factor in your body being the sharp comebacks you'd shoot at both him and Soap when they'd want to tease you. 

You shared a gaze with him briefly before he made the first move in leaning down to capture your lips with his. The kiss felt submissive and laced with regret for the argument that morning, but you didn't care. You always forgave him as it had always been a desperate attempt to understand what was going on inside of his head, but you were appreciative that he was willing to eventually explain things to you, even if it meant shutting down after the fact.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the smell of his body wash enveloping your sense of smell as he depended the kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since he returned home, which was the longest you two had gone without sex. Every other time he arrived home, it was that night he wanted to entangle himself with you, but the thought of almost being KIA ate at him like a disease, refraining him from any action for a long while.

You felt his hands slide down your back, gripping just under your bare buttocks before lifting you up into his arms. You shrieked with excitement, “Simon! Don’t drop me! It’s slick!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He replied, moving his lips to your neck as he reached behind him to turn the water to a more desirable temperature as he was unbelievably hot with passion. He took your mouth in his again, feeling that familiar tightening below the navel. He had forgotten about how consumed he was in his negative thoughts after feeling the spark of your comforting touch. You were his wife - a loyal partner that he could confine to unconditionally and love even more.

He took your breasts into his hands as your back was now pinned against the wall and his lips were on your neck. The steam from the water concealed your splotches of blush on your chest as his lips traveled lower and lower until they reached your core. “Simon,” You panted, afraid he wouldn’t like the taste of you after a long shift at work. “I haven’t gotten to freshen up yet.”

He smirked, looking up at you before pressing a kiss to your hip, “Do you really think I give a fuck?” He growled before placing another kiss to your hip.

You panted, tightening your abdomen at the feeling of his fingers swiping between your folds. “Already soaking wet for me, huh?”

“Always, baby.”

He smirked, removing his fingers from your folds before holding them up to your mouth. Your lips took in his two fingers eagerly, tasting a sweet/salty texture. “Look at that. If you can taste yourself then you shouldn’t have an issue with me.”

Your chest rose and fell with excitement. He was right. You couldn’t taste anything when he put his fingers in your mouth. He then turned the shower off before picking you up effortlessly, his steps careful as he crossed the tile floor of your bathroom.

The two of you lay on the bed facing each other, entangling your lips with one another as he brought your leg up over his hip. He was rock hard and dripping with excitement to enter you. You were eager, too, but you didn’t want to rush. You felt the head of his member poking at your inner thigh and you couldn't help but roll your hips in a desperate attempt to feel him inside of you.

You moaned as you felt his hand sneak down to himself, teasing your entrance before that familiar white pain spread you open. You couldn't help but grip at the base of his neck, leaning your head back as your hips stilled when he began with a slow thrust.

Your leg that was draped over his hip tightened, giving you leverage to roll your hips onto him even more. He groaned into your neck, nipping at the flesh gently as one arm was wrapped around your shoulders and the other was pinning your hip close to his body. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered at the new position.

He smirked against your shoulder, his dog tags clanking as he moved to where he was on top of you, the tags now dangling in your face. You gently moved the sacred piece to where it was backward on his neck, the tags resting between his shoulder blades as his thrusts were feeling rough and full of need. He slowed briefly to bring both of your legs higher around his hips. Your hands gripped the back of his biceps, feeling the muscles tighten as they held his weight. You dug crescents into his skin as the pleasure was euphoric. "All fuckin' mine." He whispered.

"Likewise, baby," You muttered in response, now grasping either side of his face as you tighten your core, feeling your orgasm on the horizon. "Right there. Right there," You panted, your mouth agape.

His pace didn't change as he was desperate to feel your walls contract around him, guiding him to his own much-needed orgasm. Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat as the feeling of your hot palms against his pectorals was enough to mark you with his spend. As much as he hated how littered his chest was with scars, he liked that part of his body. It was like his own shield - solid and wide, providing excellent cover for both at home and on the field. He also loved the feeling of your palms on his chest as you rode him, but this sensation he was feeling couldn't wait for another position.

He had to finish now.

You two stayed in that position for what felt like an hour, even though it was more than likely to be almost ten minutes. It was sensual, erotic, and loving. Your mouths were dry by the time you parted your lips. Your breathing was heavy and labored as he kept your orgasm teetering on the brink of insanity. He enjoyed it. You couldn't take it anymore as your release was begging to present itself. He kept up the pace as he felt your walls constrict around him and your thighs tighten around his waist. Your chest heaved as your breathed out, a moan dancing on your tongue. "Let it out, sweetheart." He grumbled against your hot skin before putting himself on his knees and bringing one of your legs to rest over his shoulder and spreading the other with his free hand. You didn't care about any insecurity you had right now. He had you in a vice grip as he watched himself enter you, each withdrawal being coated more and more with the slick from your orgasm. Fucking hell.

His grip tightened on your ankle as his own release came. He stilled as you felt his cock pulsate, followed by a very vague warm feeling when you focused on it. He withdrew, watching his spend ooze from you. He used the tip of his cock to push it back in, wanting all of him to stay inside of you.

Both sensitive and stung from sex, he peppered your sternum with hot kisses as his hands traced up your sides.

Simon was back - the Simon you knew and loved. The Simon that was always warm to the touch and that softened his mood only for you. His palms were warm, matching your skin. You were his and he was yours.

For better or worse.

#simon riley fic #simonrileysmut #simonghostriley #simonriley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #cod mw2 smut #Simon Riley smut #simon riley imagines #domestic simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #ghost Riley smut

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Get Well Soon

Steven Grant X GN!Reader

Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Rating: T

Warnings: TYPOS, SWEARING, mentions of feeling sick, fluff, hurt/comfort, unwell reader, vertigo, ear infection, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

A/N: for the ask here. This is the Steven version! (I'm trying to post the things I write instead of just looking at them for months on end.)

Word Count: 1175

___________________________________________________

The street swam. Everything shifted constantly to the side as the vertigo messed with your vision. It had been a stupid idea to try to go to work with an ear infection. Stupid. But you’d done it anyway. 

It hadn’t been so bad this morning, just some pain and a bit of a temperature. You didn’t want to let your colleagues down, again, with your sickness. Even if you knew in your heart of hearts that they didn’t think like that. Didn’t blame you.

You’d managed to get up the road from your flat to the bus stop on Alberny Road before everything had started to go really, really wrong. And now you were sitting on the tiny bus stop bench, your head in your hands, eyes tight shut, trying not to throw up. 

You just needed a minute. Just a minute and you’d be okay, fine, well. Or at least enough to get yourself home and back into bed. 

The ten minute walk back and never seemed so long. 

Footsteps echoed along the pavement, you could only hear them faintly over the morning traffic rushing passed. They paused in front of you.

There was a second of silence. 

You peeked out from behind your hands, getting a glimpse of slightly battered trainers. Shoes that you distinctively recognised.

Steven spoke your name, worry coloured his voice, “love, are you okay?”

Of all the people, in all of London, it was just your luck that it was Steven. Lovely Steven who lived a floor above you. Lovely Steven who you’d been harbouring a hopefully-not-painfully-obvious-secret crush on. Lovely Steven that you definitely didn’t want to see right now.

You glanced up. Which was a bad choice. The quickness of the movement made everything worse. 

He was obviously on his way to work, holding the strap of his bag that was slung over his shoulder. Concern shone in his soft brown eyes, his eyebrows pinched together. 

Honestly, you would have stared longer if your moving vision wasn’t making nausea rise in your throat. 

You dropped your head, closing your eyes and gave him a half hearted wave. “Hi Steven.” God, you sounded awful. 

You heard him move and sit down next to you, his arm brushing against yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Ear infection.” You blurted out. “Thought I was better, but everything’s moving.” 

Steven nodded, and then quickly shook his head when he realised you couldn’t see him. “Fuck, that’s terrible. You can’t go to work like that love.”

“Yeah,” you smiled weakly, still keeping your eyes closed. “Just trying to work up the energy to get home. Might have to crawl.”

Steven tutted, already typing on his phone. “Can’t have that.” 

You let out a weak laugh, not realising he was serious. “Yeah, but I think I’m out of options.” 

“I’ll get you back home.”

“What?” You opened your eyes, turning quickly to face him in surprise. And instantly regretted it as the vertigo rushed over you. 

You screwed up your face and swayed as the world seemed to move, despite your stable sitting position. 

Steven quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Here love,” he pulled you a little closer to him so that you could rest your head against his chest. “Sorry who’s being a bit forward? Me.” You could hear the nervous smile in his voice.

You shook your head as animatedly as you dared. “No, thank you Steven.” 

Some of the stress left his muscles. 

You both stayed like that for a few minutes until Steven’s phone buzzed and a car pulled up (illegally) at the bus stop. 

“Come on,” he gently helped you to your feet. “Keep your eyes closed if you need to.”

“Steven, what-”

“I got us an Uber, we’re going back to the flats.” 

“You’ve got work, I can’t ask you to-”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’ll send you the money for-”

Steven tutted at you as he helped you in the back seat before he got in himself. It seemed silly, but you were extremely grateful when he fastened your seatbelt for you. You kept your eyes closed and your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window.

The journey was quick, despite the morning traffic. Usually the walk to the bus stop wouldn’t have taken any time at all, but there would have been no way you would have managed it. 

Steven helped you out of the car and into the block of flats entrance. 

“I’m going to make you so late for work Steven.”

He had chuckled at that as he guided you to the elevator and pressed the number of your floor. 

Steven kept his arm wrapped around you to help you keep your balance. His warmth was soothing and you let yourself lean against him a little. 

It was only when you were both standing in front of your door that he said something other than kind reassurances. 

“Now, I completely understand if you want me to piss off now, don’t want some stranger hanging around by your front door, yeah?” He swallowed, and smiled, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. 

You had your keys in your hands. But knew there was no way you’d be able to get them into the lock. You held them out to him. “Can you open the door for me?” 

“Of course,” he rushed to take your keys and opened the door quickly, keeping his hand on it so that it didn’t shut again.

“Thank you Steven. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” 

“Ah,” he waved his free hand dismissively at you. “It’s nothing.” 

“It’s really not.” You gave him a weak smile. “I owe you one, about fifty ones really.” 

He gave you a brilliant grin. “Well, erm, get well soon.” He waved as you stepped into your flat. “I’ll come check on you later, I mean,” he blurted it out without thinking, internally kicking himself for-

“I’d like that.” You said. 

“Alright.” He smiled again. “See you later.”

.

Donna had given him a bollocking for being late, despite that fact that he’d called ahead. But Steven didn’t care. 

She had given him another dressing down later on when he had been caught staring off dreamily into space, thinking about if he really should check on you after work. Or if you had just been being polite. 

.

At 20:06 you were doing a little better, you’d taken some of the anti vertigo medication your GP had prescribed for you, and some migraine medication that knocked you out. 

You’d managed to get out of bed and walk around without feeling like you were on a ship in the middle of a storm, when there was a knock at the door. 

You frowned and made your way over, about to look through the peephole when you heard Steven’s voice. 

“Hello, love! It’s me, I hope you don’t mind but-”

You opened the door with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

He beamed when he saw you, holding up a canvas bag. “I brought you soup!”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @melodygatesauthor

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #x reader #x gender neutral reader #moon knight x reader #my writing #fanfic #gn!reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #no y/n

[thecuriousquest]

The Corn Maze

Yandere Dabi!Hawks x Fem!Reader

Request: Do you think you could do another yan hawks and dabi x winged reader please. I don’t mind if it’s fluff or nsfw or whatever and I don’t even mind what it’s about but I would love to read another story like that. Btw I love your works keep up the great work.

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, non con, vaginal sex, anal sex, spanking, blood, abuse, kidnapping

Checkout my Master List here.

————————————————————————

You want to get into the spirit of Halloween. It’s difficult since all of your friends are off at university while you’re stuck at home taking a gap year. You’re very good about doing things on your own, however. Once you have your mind made up about something, you usually stick with it.

That’s what leads you to your current predicament: lost in a hard corn maze. The stalks keep you from seeing ahead. You find yourself cornered relentlessly. You feel like you’ve been wandering around for four hours now. It’s getting dark, and you haven’t even gotten halfway through the maze.

Your hand flies to your mouth when you hear rustling in the stalks behind you. Whirling around, your hand finds the inside of your bag, reaching for your phone that has no signal. Maybe, you could throw it at the intruder and run.

“What has you so scared, Chickadee?”

A scream is torn from your throat as you hear a male’s voice behind you. Turning to face him, you see he isn’t alone. One of them has wings, just like you. However, his wings look different from yours. Your wings are as black as night, and his wings are red and sharp. His wild hair and golden eyes give him an animalistic edge.

The man next to him has severe scarring on his face and arms, staples holding burnt skin to new. His cyan eyes are electric and entrancing against his raven hair.

There’s something…off. You’re wearing high waisted black shorts and a white tank top underneath a denim jacket. The way they look up and down your body causes you to tremble beneath their stares.

“Are you lost? Where’s your group?” The same man with the red wings asks.

“Yeah, I’m lost, but I’m not here with anyone.” You instantly regret moment you realize you just told them you’re here alone. You groan internally at your stupidity.

“Well, I’m Keigo, this is my friend Dabi. What’s your name?”

You look away from them and mutter your name. “Y/N…”

Dabi moves towards you. Your back brushes the tall stalks of corn. “Why not fly out of here?”

His nose is close to yours…too close for your own liking.

“I…I can’t fly. My wings only act as a shield.”

“So, you’re a little flightless bird, is that it? Oh, chicken wings will love you. How about this? If you can find a way to please both of us, we’ll get you out of here.” He rubs your forearm, trying to create a soothing atmosphere out of his dark intent. “Does that sound good? We know this maze like the backs of our hands. You’ve been here for a while. Everyone’s gone because it’s close to midnight. Nobody would find you until tomorrow if you don’t manage to make it out by yourself. Who knows what could happen to a little thing like you.”

Keigo stands next to him, the two trapping you. “What do you say, Dove? Want to get out of here or stay all night?”

You look up from the ground at them. You don’t want to give them the type of pleasure they’re seeking, but you don’t want to stay here all night. You don’t have a choice in the matter.

You nod and finally find your voice. “Okay, okay, I’ll please you. I just want to get out of here.”

Their smiles are sardonic and filled with lust. Golden and blue orbs gaze along your body, trying to figure out what lays beneath your clothes. By now, the air is chilly, but the crisp October weather isn’t the only thing causing goosebumps to form on your tender flesh.

Keigo’s feathers trail up your legs before they start tugging at your shorts. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling the sudden invasion. You try to knock the feathers away, but you end up cutting your hand in the process.

“Don’t struggle,” he warns you with that same smirk on his face.

You try to just let everything happen, but you feel your black wings curling around you. The wings are sturdy instead of wispy like a regular feather. They aren’t sharp or blunt like Keigo’s, but they are hard like steel while remaining weightless.

Takami doesn’t like you trying to hide from him. With brute strength, he pries your wings open, staring down at you with heavy breaths. He looks so beastly standing there and panting like that.

Dabi shows his cobalt flames to you, scaring the hell out of you. The look he gives you is skin curling. “Try that again, and we might have to play a little game of fire ball.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You better try then. I have no problems with branding a pretty little thing like you.“

Swallowing nervously, you let Keigo’s feathers resume undressing you.

“Now, get down on your hands and knees,” Keigo orders.

You whimper as your body lowers towards the dirt path. It looks like Keigo is going to take his turn first.

The golden blonde hovers over you. He’s fully clothed with his pants down. You’re stark naked. You soon understand the situation: he wants to dominate you.

His intrusion is jarring. You’re only a little bit wet even if this is something you feel pressured into. The friction he manages is beyond any cock you’ve ever taken. He fills you to the point where you can feel the tip poking your belly. Keigo wraps his arms around you as he pounds you from the back.

You hear squelching coming from two sources: your drenched cunt and Keigo’s friend. Looking up at him, you meet terrifying cerulean eyes upon you. He’s watching you while pumping his dick, his smirk still plastered on his patchwork face.

You can feel your walls crumbling as every drop of Keigo’s sweat drips onto your back. You try to close your eyes and imagine you’re by yourself, trying to find the exit of this fucking corn maze. Every jab of Keigo’s dick distracts you from your dissociation, and you’re left biting your lip as you feel used by him.

Not soon enough, you feel hot liquid fill your insides. As he pulls out, his seed drips down your thighs.

Dabi takes his place behind you as he shucks his pants down a bit. Kneeling behind you, he repositions you on your knees. Dabi grabs you by the back of your hair, forcing you off of your hands so that your cheek is pressed against the dirt. He lines his cock up against your ass, and you turn as you try to cover the hole he wants to enter. It’s awkward from this position, but you manage as you balance on your face and one hand.

“Please, no! I don’t want you going back there!”

“Too bad, Flightless.” He gives your bottom a searing spank with his flaming hand. “I’m an ass man, and I’m about to have the time of my life.” He uses both hands to smack you into an oblivion. Your skin feels raw, bruised, and literally on fire. The punishment is endless, and you finally move your hand back in front of you as the message sinks in.

Dabi uses both hands to separate your cherry cheeks. He uses the blood from your torn up flesh as a lubricant for his dick. It works well enough. He likes that he can hear you sobbing weakly and sniffling. After giving your ass a final slap, he slips inside, and he isn’t patient about it either. With one thrust, you feel all of him from base to tip.

Your wings flap, trying to get him off of you as you feel an overwhelming sensation pooling in your body. Pain. Unbearable, aching, misery-inducing pain.

Keigo has to hold down your flapping wings that are trying to knock Dabi off of you. You’re punished for that with the blue flames of hell as he spanks you again and again.

“Don’t pull a stupid stunt like that again,” Dabi demands with a threatening tone.

“Please, just hurry up and come already!” You can’t help but beg him. You just want this ordeal to be over with so that you can go home.

“Aw, isn’t that cute. The bitch wants me to come. You want me to come in you or on you?”

“In me…I guess. Ah, please, come in me!” You clench your fists and grit your teeth as you hear them both laugh at you.

It’s a tormenting sound, to be laughed at while you’re being held down and raped. They cause you to weep silently into your folded arms.

Dabi loads up before pulling out and coming all over your abused backside. In the end, it doesn’t matter what you want. They’re just going to have their way with you despite what you tell them.

When he finishes pumping his seed along your bleeding flesh, he pushes you further into the ground. They don’t even let you get dressed. Dabi holds you down while Keigo gathers your clothes.

“You ready to go home, Chickadee?” The blonde questions.

Sniffling, you try to look at him as Dabi keeps your cheek in the dirt. “You know where I live?”

“Don’t be a smart ass. We’re taking you back to our place. I’m not done with you yet,” Dabi explains.

Dread fills every cell in your body as they drag you out of the maze, force you into their truck, and take you to your new home.

#my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #triggering content #triggering themes #yandere #mha keigo takami #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami #takami keigo #yandere keigo takami #mha dabi #bnha yandere #bnha dabi #yandere dabi #dabihawks #Yandere dabihawks #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

[baronessblixen]

Hi! Big fan here😊! If you're still taking prompts: Mulder being obviously jealous with Scully and Sheriff Hartwell in Bad Blood, thank you!😊

Thank you, sweet anon! Here it is. A post-ep for "Bad Blood" obviously. A jealous Mulder, an attempt at humor and the hint of angst may be found here. (wc: 1,349)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 30: Feelings You Can't Hide

Buck teeth.

He can’t believe Scully is into overbites when- no, he’s not going down that road again. The same thing happened last year when Ed Jerse showed up. Not that Mulder ever met the guy, but he’s seen pictures. What a funny twist of fate that Sheriff Buck Teeth and Mr. Tattoo look like they could be related. His Scully has a type. And Mulder is not jealous. At all.

He reminds himself of that fact every two seconds, lest he forget to smile and not make another biting remark. Whatever his feelings are, Scully deserves more. That’s the reason why he pushed her towards the Sheriff in the first place. A mistake he now very much regrets. He should have known. He of all people, who’s been seduced by his own vampire before. Whatever happened – and either Scully doesn’t remember or doesn’t want to tell him – she’s still wearing the sheriff’s coat.

And he’s still not jealous at all. Not even an iota. Well, maybe a bit. A fraction. He glances over at Scully, almost disappearing into the coat, her hands in the pockets. His blood coils. It’s anger, he justifies. That guy could have done god knows what to Scully. The hospital cleared them both. There was nothing wrong with them.

Mulder winced internally when rape kits were prepared, bu they haven't been touched in any way. There’s not a scratch on either of them. Scully’s theory is that they were drugged so that Sheriff Hartwell and the others could disappear. He thinks she’s right, but so far all he’s done is nod along.

“Are you gonna keep wearing that thing?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. Scully musters him, obviously trying to understand what’s wrong with him.

“No, of course not,” she says. “It’s just warm and it’s cool in here.”

“You can have my coat,” he says, taking it off.

“Mulder, you’re gonna be cold.” Except he feels warm. Hot, even. Boiling almost. “Take it,” he says, sounding like an asshole. He hears it, and judging by Scully’s puzzled expression, she does, too. Still, she takes his coat, slipping out of the other one. Mulder can breathe more easily.

Scully giggles when she holds up the sleeves, her hands barely peeking out. The sound opens something in Mulder. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, her sight causing a pandemonium of emotions inside him.

He can no longer deny it; he is jealous. Whether it’s a vampiric sheriff, a psychopathic asshole, or a seemingly normal-looking doctor in a hospital. Scully deserves to find a nice man – emphasis on nice, and not blood-sucking or murderous – and here he is, trying his best to prevent that from happening. Because what if she does? What if the next guy they run into is exactly what she’s looking for? Sweet and kind – someone Bill Jr. will be friends with. Someone who’ll whisk her away on weekend trips where the scariest situation will involve preventing a sunburn.

“Mulder, I asked if you were ready to go home.” Scully is squeezing his arm, her eyes narrow with concern.

“Am I ready?” he asks. He's not ready at all to do this. To consider the possibility that one day - and maybe soon - she could be gone. Because of some guy who can give her everything Mulder can't.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did they check your head?” She runs her fingers through his hair and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that they did check him for head trauma and that her way of checking is more of a caress than anything else.

“My head is fine,” he says finally.

“It better be because I’m not facing Skinner alone.” He gives her a look that he hopes is reassuring.

*

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. About his revelation. That’s why when they talk to Skinner, he’s only half listening, reiterating everything Scully says.

“This is your story,” Skinner says, glancing at both of them across from him. They share a quick look before they nod.

“That is essentially… exactly the way it happened,” Scully says slowly.

“Except for the part about the buck teeth.” The room falls quiet. He knows he shouldn’t have said it, but he hasn’t slept well these past few nights. Last night, he dreamed about a hat with big white teeth following him around, trying to bite him. Skinner sighs, rubbing his eyes, and for once Mulder gets it. Scully’s eyes are on him and he feels them burn into the side of his face. This isn’t over for him, no matter what Skinner is about to say.

“You’re dismissed,” their boss says, directing his attention elsewhere; a clear sign that they should leave. Mulder stumbles over his own feet in an attempt to get out of the office. Scully, however, is at his heels. How she can keep up with him might be the greatest conundrum of them all.

“What was that?” she hisses once they’re in the elevator, on the way down to their office.

“What was what?”

“Why do you keep insisting that he had buck teeth?”

“Why are you always attracted to idiots?” Another thing he knows he shouldn’t have said. “I’m sorry, I-… I haven’t been sleeping well.” It’s a flimsy excuse and the fire in Scully’s eyes doesn’t dissipate.

“You’re one to talk, Mulder. This was unprofessional. In front of Skinner. It’s bad enough when you made fun of it before but in front of our boss? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’ll say. Why are you so obsessed with what he looked like?” He owes her this. But first, he’s saved by the bell. The elevator door opens and Scully steps out first. He follows the click of her heels until they’re in their office where she leans against the desk, her arms folded in front of her.

“I’m waiting,” she says, her eyebrows raised.

“I was just surprised,” he explains. “That you’d be interested in someone like… that.”

“Like what, Mulder?”

“He wasn’t the brightest bulb, Scully. You must have seen that. I thought you’d be more, um- I thought maybe you’d go for someone who’s more…”

“More what?” she asks.

“Someone who’s intellectually on your level.”

“Like you?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replies too quickly and he sees the corner of Scully’s mouth twitch.

“I may have thought that Sheriff Hartwell was nice enough looking,” she says, sounding almost bored. “I wasn’t planning a life with him. And you just- should I remind you of Detective White?”

“Who?”

“Oh, come on. Or Bambi.”

“Bambi was a scientist,” Mulder says defensively.

“Yeah, she was,” Scully mumbles, looking away. “Either way, I have to deal with you being… interested in other people way more often than the other way around. And I don’t ascribe them physical attributes they don’t possess. So what was that?”

“I’m sorry, Scully. I truly am. I was just-,” he looks at her. Can he say it? Can he admit it to her? If he admits that he was jealous, what will happen next? They’re not there yet. He can admit it to himself, but he’s not ready to face the consequences of his feelings.

“I was insensitive. I was worried your feelings for Sheriff Bu- Hartwell might interfere with the case.”

“That’s it?” she asks and he nods, looking down at his feet. “You’re sticking to that story?” He lifts his head to look at her. She’s not believing a single word.

“Admit he didn’t have buck teeth.”

“What? He did!”

“Admit it, Mulder. Or tell me the real reason.”

“Fine,” he says with a sigh. All he has to do is say it. Simple words. ‘I was jealous, Scully’. How hard can it be? He, the defender and searcher of the truth, is shying away from it.

“I- he didn’t have buck teeth. Happy?”

“It’ll do,” she says, before she walks right past him and out of the basement office, making him wonder what exactly she means by that.

#fictober23 #only one more day to go #not sure yet what it will be tomorrow #i hope i can come up with someone one more time #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[myunghology]

can i request izumi, leo, and ritsu with a fem!s/o who's year younger than them and tends to act childish and affectionate?

▬▬ IZUMI SENA, LEO TSUKINAGA, AND RITSU SAKUMA WITH A S/O WHO'S YOUNGER, BUT ACTS CHILDISH AND AFFECTIONATE.

▬▬ READER TYPE ▸ fem, your/yours pronouns used. and i used the word "girl" ONCE. just once. feel free to change it while reading.

▬▬ LAYOUT ▸ headcanons.

▬▬ CW ▸ swearing..? like a lot of swearing

▬▬ PROOFREAD? ▸ u wish

▬▬ AUTHORS NOTE ▸ bro my hair keeps falling out? do i have cancer🗿 did u guys miss me doing enstar work🥺 wtf tumblr keeps hiding things from x reader tag. bitch how am i supposed to get famous

▬▬ REQUESTS ▸ closed.

▸ IZUMI SENA

୨୧ bro.. give him a break :(. jk lol he doesn't deserve it

୨୧ he's about to grow more gray hairs <3 but it's okay! he still loves you and he's letting you slide. okay but he always let's you slide >:(.

୨୧ “l/n is doing dumb things again.” — tsukasa. izumi groans but it's a daily thing now! he's gotten used to it. he was just chilling until he heard you were messing with leo. but it was just a childish fight! you whine.

୨୧ let's you do your things sometimes, but not all the time! izumi still drags you from all the messes you cause. he scolds you everytime! can you blame him though?

୨୧ but.. he's kinda jealous of how you and leo get along so well.. i mean.. he hates having to scold you everytime, but he wants to spend time with you like that as well! why does it have to be leo :(? though he'll never admit that over his dead body.

୨୧ “bro.. i was just joking:)” *runs*

୨୧ but his responses to your affection are so:( man im so fucking single. example ; “hey, izumi, kiss me if im wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?” and he kisses you. MAN

୨୧ he does get a tiny bit flustered, but you have to squint to see! you have a new achievement though if you get him off guard <3. be as flirty with him all you want, but he WILL flirt back. goodluck if you get flustered easily.

୨୧ “you remind me of a star. do you know why?” — izumi, “..because im full of gas?” — y/n, “no, dumbass! it's because your beautiful.” — izumi.

୨୧ overall, nagseselos ako sa relationship nyo<3 ( translation ; you guys are so cute! ) ( the translation is right<3 don't translate it. it's right i swear🥺 )

▸ TSUKINAGA LEO

୨୧ izumis about to shit himself

୨୧ y'all are cute he won't lie! but give the man a break

୨୧ okay enough about izumi .

୨୧ you guys are such soulmates <3 both chaotic and affectionate that's so cute. helping leo compose in a chaotic way = leo having fun with you in any way you can think of!

୨୧ tsukasa is also about to shit himself! but anyway, dating leo while also practically being his twin is soooo fun. when he first met you his eyes were sparkling <3 knights know they've regretted their life choices right after though

୨୧ insert you running to leo while his arms are wide opened

୨୧ his response to your affection is more affection, like squshing your face and kissing all over it :(. bro what if i cry

୨୧ he thinks your adorable!! you two get weird stares, but it's not like you two care. it's almost impossible to see you two not being together.

୨୧ try to flirt and he'll pause for a bit, but hits you back with the MOST CHEESIEST pickup lines. but it's okay, he's trying okay.. but you can't lie, it's cute, isn't it!?

୨୧ overall, iiyak na talaga ako. ( translation ; you guys have an amazing relationship <3! ) ( it's still right i swear )

▸ RITSU SAKUMA

୨୧ oh shit

୨୧ okay, first of all.. he doesn't really care? im sorry as long as you're with him then, he doesn't give a single shit. but then again, he thinks your adorable.

୨୧ doesn't wanna be waken up by anyone unless it's you:( or mao but more you.

୨୧ one time you tripped over him and he almost swore at you.. (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ) but then he realized it was you, and he just pulled you into his arms, “behave for me, would you? i can't hurt a girl, so, just stay still and be good for me.” AAAAAAAAAA

୨୧ he doesn't really care what messes you make, as long as your enjoying yourself, then that's all that matters. and as long as he doesn't have to clean up after your messes.

୨୧ his responses to your affection though.. he just... smirks ? bro please. have mercy

୨୧ try to flirt and he WILL also flirt back. but unlike those other two up there ^^ he makes suggestive comments. good luck if you get flustered easily too. im not helping you with that babes

୨୧ MAYBE. maybe if your lucky, he'll give affection back too. but he's more used to receiving. why? it's ritsu we're talking about you know why

୨୧ let's say you are lucky enough! it only lasts a day though:( but it's better than nothing! it happens like.. once a month.

୨୧ overall, lulunod ko na talaga sarili ko. ( translation ; i wanna live to see your relationship <3 ) ( i don't think you should translate this one )

©miihai ; AAAAND. that's done! All the translations are right dw 🥺

#enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #izumi sena x reader #tsukinaga leo x reader #leo tsukinaga x reader #sakuma ritsu x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader #miihai works

[itsonlydana]

hi can you maybe write cc foolish with a s/o who overworks themselves?

"come to bed"➷ Foolish

➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: you were so concentrated on your work that you didn't even notice how late it has gotten. If it weren't for Foolish you would have worked until dawn

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: to anyone who might find themselves in this situation: take a small break, drink some water and maybe have some fruit <3 you can do this but your body needs rest as well to function properly!

➛ tagging: @icarusthefoolish

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard clacked through the quiet study, keeping you in the almost trance-like state of writing away, filling the document in front of you with sentences that were very likely to need complete revision in the morning. But you didn't have time for that right now, first of all you had to write something halfway meaningful at all. In nine days was the deadline for submitting this project and while that actually gave you enough buffer, you didn't want to fall behind your schedule. A schedule that was about to burst at the seams, like a slowly overboiling pot on the stove. Every time you looked at the paper diagonally next to you, it felt like there was more. 

Next to your desk was an untouched sandwich that you had long forgotten about, next to it three empty cups that you had drunk up so quickly that no coffee rim could form. They had been one of the desperate attempts to ignore the oppressive fatigue a little further-another paragraph....

Whenever you paused to close your slowly burning eyes for a few seconds, you regretted it, found it harder to open them again afterwards, and it was only the fear of not finishing in time that made you sit up and force yourself to erase the last typed words, a jumble of half-asleep typed letters, and rephrase it.

You didn't notice how it had quieted down in the bedroom next door, no half-shouted curses about miserable opponents in Overwatch flowing to you from under your door crack. Instead, there was the soft clack of a doorknob being pushed down, shuffling footsteps in the hallway muffled by a rug, and a soft tap of knuckles on the closed door of the study.

"Baby?"

At the voice of your boyfriend Foolish, raspy with fatigue, you jolted out of your trance of work. You leaned back in your chair smiling, ignoring the way your back pulled and your body yearned for your bed. At the sight of Foolish, the sluggishness disappeared for a moment. 

"Are you still streaming or have you stopped?" you asked him. After several hours of barely using your voice except for a few exasperated sighs and groans, the words rasped in your dry throat. 

Foolish stepped into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his gym shorts, and shuffled up to you until he could lean down to rest his chin on your head. "Been done for half an hour, didn't you see my message?" 

Confused, you shook your head and reached into your pants pocket. Sure enough, twenty minutes ago Foolish had sent you a "ready, bed? :)" You hadn't noticed the vibrate. You looked from the phone back to the flickering monitor in front of you. "I'll be done in a minute, then I'll join you. Okay?", you gave him a smile, the corners of your mouth heavy with the fatigue that had spread throughout your body. 

Foolish didn't move though, just looked at you shaking his head. "Babe, it would be much better to continue working in the morning".

You too shook your head and turned back to the screen. "This can't wait Foolish. If I queue this up in the back too, I won't be able to finish the rest on the list either." For you, that was the end of the subject. You had explained to him why it was important to you to keep working and he would surely understand. Just to be on the safe side, you threw another "Go to bed already, I'll be up in a minute" over your shoulder. 

But Foolish mumbled weary disapproving noises in your ear, his nose pressed against your temple. "Bed," he mumbled, his lips pressed against your ear so that his warm breath tickled you. 

Sighing, you leaned your head back. "Foo-," you began, but were interrupted by his lips on your cheek. 

"Now," he murmured, a little more seriously. Foolish put his hand on yours on the mouse and guided the pointer to the "Save" box, which he clicked three times for safety's sake before shutting down - without a protest from you - your PC. As soon as the screen went black you felt a wave of relief that made your arms heavy. Your bones groaned as you slowly sat up, cracking free from the chair that had engulfed and taken you over the last few hours. Your legs were heavy as lead, each step a shuffle across the floor, and like every time you work far too late into the night, you immediately regretted it. 

But Foolish was there. Smiling, he took your hand in his, pulling you behind him out of the office and up to your bedroom, where you fell exhausted onto the covers. Foolish slid behind you, your back pressed against his chest, and buried his face in your neck. 

The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft, "I'm proud of you."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt writing #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #foolish gamers fanfiction #foolish gamers imagine #foolish gamers x reader #foolish gamers x you #foolish x reader #foolish x you #fluff #foolish fluff #foolish gamers fluff #mcyt oneshots

[thesparklingwriter]

a matter of sickness

'Archons don't get sick, and neither do dragons...'

tags: fem!reader pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, reader is ill, Zhongli does not know what to do with himself, fluff no plot, author is still very tired

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

please do not repost or edit my work without credit. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

i'm also taking ideas for the rest of the flufftober days, feel free to leave any suggestions in my asks, no matter how self-indulgent they may be

Zhongli has limited experience with illness. Archons don't get sick, and neither do dragons.

However, his pretty human wife does, and he doesn't know how to handle that. Especially when, for some reason, you don't understand that you need to rest.

"Li, please!" you complain between coughs. "I'm fine, really. There's no need for any of this."

He ignores you, propping you up with yet another pillow. He's had no sleep, concerned that your condition had worsened every time you tumbled into a fit of coughs in the middle of the night. He's tired, and therefore cranky, and he's desperate to somehow make you well again. Having a sick wife is putting a type of tension on his shoulders that he has never experienced before.

"If you won't rest, at the very least, stop protesting so you can give your throat a rest." He says curtly, though one look at you has him taking back every word. You're not used to Zhongli being harsh with you and no matter the cause, it always leaves you on the verge of tears. Noticing your reaction, he sits on the bed beside you and strokes your hair. "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

You sniff, staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. You're exhausted and emotionally fragile as a result of the night of no sleep. You lift your arms so he can pull you into a hug. "It's okay."

"I'm not used to those around me being unwell. I sincerely apologise." you nod into his shoulder, a stray tear escaping, despite the fact he's already apologised. "Please drink some tea."

The first thing Zhongli did when sunlight hit the window was going straight to Dr Baizhu. Mainly because he didn't think he could endure another night of fearing for his wife’s life. After explaining your illness to him, Dr Baizhu laughed at Zhongli.

"You seem to be getting soft," he marvelled. "All for a human."

Zhongli really didn’t appreciate that. He was already stressed since you were on the mountain alone, and now he was being ridiculed by the doctor. He bit back his complaint, grit his teeth and waited for a prescription.

"She just has a common cold. She'll be better in a day or two, provided she rests and drinks lots of fluids. This should help with the coughing." Dr Baizhu said, passing Zhongli a box of tea bags. He thanked the doctor dutifully, not that he truly believed that he had been much help, and ran back home to you, praying you hadn't noticed the fact he was missing. You had.

That was the start of everything going downhill. You'd panicked because you thought something had happened to him, and had worked yourself up, he was tired and annoyed by Dr Baizhu's comments, and the panic in your eyes when you saw him made him regret leaving.

“Li, it’s too hot. It hurts,” you whisper, pushing the cup of tea back to him.

“My love, you have to at least try for me.” He replies, If he could magically make the drink colder for you, he would do it in a heartbeat. But he can't, so he settles for blowing on the drink for you.

You shake your head no, and Zhongli knows better than to scold you again. As tired as he is, he doesn't think he can cope with making you cry again.

"I'm cold," you whine again.

"Maybe you should drink your tea," Zhongli quips. It's been a particularly hot summer, so he'd put the majority of the thicker covers in the closet to keep them out of the way. He pulls out the warmest one he can find, and drapes it over you. You thank him gratefully, but continue to insist that you will not be drinking the tea if it continues to be hotter than the archipelagos in mid-summer at midday. Zhongli laughs at your dedication to your metaphor.

"Are you always so mean to sick people?" You ask. Zhongli sits in bed next to you, and wraps his arms around your shivering body. You feel yourself warming up immediately.

"I'm not accustomed to people who are ill, so I can't answer that question," he says. "Archons don't usually experience human ailments. The only other possibility is corruption, but recovery from that is rare. Especially if it's from the Abyss."

You scowl. "Let's not talk about the Abyss. One of their men gave me this dumb cold. I should have killed him on sight instead of trying to not engage him." You’re not often this open about how you feel about your experiences in combat, so Zhongli supposes that being ill lends itself to callousness.

"You tried to spare a Fatui? How gracious of you." Zhongli marvels. He can't keep up with your moods. Sometimes you seem to want death to each and every single one of them, other times, you're happy to just let them be. You cough.

"Never again. They can all die.”

“Even Childe?” Zhongli teases.

“Don’t talk to me about him. He can die too, for making you do the Fatui’s dirty work.” You move closer to Zhongli, if that’s even possible, another chill running through you. “See? Now I’m getting shivers.”

He laughs, and you feel him shift into his slightly less human form, just as you hoped. He’s much warmer this way—almost as if the sheer power of his archon form radiates heat. Plus, there’s more of him to wrap around you like this. For some reason, his tougher skin somehow feels like velvet against yours, and the tickle of his hair is familiar and soothing. Never has a person ever felt more like home to you. 

“I cannot keep up with your mood swings.” He chuckles. “If I keep you here like this for at least another hour, will you drink the tea then?”

“No.” You reply. You’re nothing if not open and honest, and Zhongli appreciates that. His contracts mean that he has to keep quiet about a great manner of things, but that fact that you have no such problems is of great joy to him. He always knows what’s running through your mind.

When the hour is up, and he feels like the period of resting—as well as releasing his archon form—has rejuvenated him sufficiently, he slide outs of your arms and heads off to the kitchen. Your next complaint, other than being cold or in pain, will most likely be that you’re hungry. You’ll never accept anything unless he’s made it or it came from Wanmin, and Celestial help him if you wake up without him again. He’s barely in the kitchen for five minutes before you come staggering along, barely even awake and dragging your feet across the tiled floor. You press yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist. If he’s surprised by your presence, or how clammy you are to the touch, he doesn’t mention it.

“I need you,” You’re not ashamed by your lack of tact.

Zhongli chuckles. “You have a heater and a blanket in there. I am sure you’ll be fine on your own for half an hour, love.”

“No,” You complain. “Not like that.”

He turns to face you. As much as he loves hearing that he’s as indisposable to you as you are to him, he’s not falling for your antics. He notes that being ill makes you blood-thirsty and boosts your libido somehow. What a strange combination.

“You are sick, and you’re supposed to be resting. It’s a no.” He kisses your forehead to soften the blow of the rejection. It doesn’t work.

“Please?”

“No.”

You huff, and plonk yourself on a dining table chair. “Your wife is sick and you won’t even do the bare minimum to make her less miserable.”

“No no,” Zhongli laughs. “Let’s not go there, hm? You’ve rejected every single attempt I’ve made to lessen your pain.”

“I never asked for those attempts.” You reply indignantly.

“Okay, how about we make a deal? You rest that pretty mouth of yours while I make you something to eat, and when you return to your usual health we can hunt some Fatui down and make them regret making you ill. Is that satisfactory?”

You smile then, the disappointment that his proposal was a slight deviation from what you really wanted disappearing. You loved beating the Fatui to a crisp. Especially when it was a revenge mission.

a/n: can you tell i like brat tamers or is it not clear yet

#zhongli #flufftober #zhongli fluff #zhongli flufftober #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli fanfic #my beloved <3 #i like zhongli a healthy #normal amount #tswzhongliflufftober #minors dni #[🚨]—restricted fiction

[angelltheninth]

First Timer's Luck

Pairing: Raizou Kurima x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss (for Raizou), fingering, kissing, hand kink, glove kink, soft sex, creampie, virgin!Raizou, prostitute!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: The one responsible for me loving this anime is @dollwrites, but this if is all me because Raizou checks off two of my kinks so its very self indulgent and I really popped off with this one.

From the moment you walked into the swordsman's room you could tell how nervous he was, barely sparing you a glance but bowing his head when you sat in front of him, his gloved hands in his lap, his sword by the futon, in arms reach. Typical.

"Haven't seen you here before. What's your name, mister swordsman?" You asked with a polite smile, your usual.

He opened his eyes, a stoic expression on his face, "I've never been here before, but my boss has, and some of my friends as well. They told me I was... to pent up to be of use." He looked away, a little embaressed to admit this. Huh, he was kinda cute now that you got a better look at him. His outfit was a little tight around him though, but damn it did wonders to show off his muscular body and scars.

"I see. A swordsman needs to keep a calm head on his shoulders." There had been quite a few who you've serviced in the past and a lot of them had the same excuse for coming here. "What do I call you, mister swordsman?" You asked as you reached for his hand.

He flinched at your touch, pulling back, eyes a little wide, almost skittish looking, "Oh. Ah. Ra-Raizou. I'm afraid that's all I can give you."

"Oh no, by the looks of you there's so much more you can give me." You hid nothing as your eyes traveled up and down his body, his shoulders, his pecks, the outline of his abs, and then vanishing into his pants. There seemed to have been another part of his outfit, a hooded cloak of some kind that was neatly folded next to his sword, and next to that were what looked like rather heavy boots. "So Raizou," You drew closer to him, taking his hands and crawling into his lap, his expression changing from stoic to nervous when he felt your bare thighs on him, "what do you like?"

"Uh... I am not sure to be honest with you. I was... the woman I wanted is no longer... I..." He looked down, face falling in shame and regret, "I don't know how to touch you, to bring you the pleasure that you need."

That you need? You? Most clients didn't even bother asking. All they wanted was to have their dick serviced and leave. But that wasn't the only part that stood out to you from what he said.

"Raizou, are you saying you're a virgin?" He nodded, a small, short, quick nod. "Well its not uncommon for me to lose their virginity in the red light district, you have nothing to be ashamed or scared of. You're here to feel good, and I'm here to ensure that you do." You cupped his cheeks, thumbs pressing against the corners of his lips, "Have you kissed before."

"Several times. However my last one came from a nun that tried to poison and kill me." ...Okay. There was definitely a story behind that one. "It wasn't enjoyable." Raizou shook his head before he looked at your lips, opening his mouth to ask a question that died on his lips when he feels your soft ones on them. The way he kissed back was clumsy but sweet, so gentle and inquisitive. "Cherries. You taste of cherries."

You smiled against his lips, licking your lips from the smudged lipstick, "I take it you like it?" He nodded again, he seemed like a man of few words, unless prompted to speak. "I like the strong, silent type. It makes me feel accomplished when I get them to be vocal." The next kiss lasted longer, Raizou melting into it just a little more, his hands finally getting the courage to be on your hips.

The moment you rolled them against his lap he groaned, choked back and pulled away.

"Can I try something? I think you'll enjoy it." His didn't know what to expect when he told you yes but it certainly wasn't that you would suddenly disrobe before him, your kimono half way down your body, in his lap and your perfect breasts in his face. "You can touch anywhere you want, I'm all yours for tonight. And other nights, should you come back." He was still hesitant so you took his hands and placed them on both your breasts, the material of his gloves slightly cold. You sighed against his hands as they squeezed experimentally, Reizou's eyes zeroed in on your stiff nipples. "Tasting is also allowed, mister swordsman." He moaned and leaned his head forward, lips trembling as he wrapped them around your nipple.

Reizou's eyes closed, hair obscuring his eyes, tongue venturing out to lick his way to the other nipple. You rolled your hips again, this time coming in contact with his hard on. Oh dear, he really was pent up if something like this has him this turned on.

It made you so wet knowing how much effect you were having on him right now. "You may also touch here." He trusted you when you took his hand to guide it. The moment his fingers came into contact with your wetness he stopped his worship of your breats.

"I-" He felt around your naked cunt, fingers clumsily massaging, spreading your folds, rubbing with no aim real or purpose. You laughed into his hair, those no doubt skilled fingers faltering against you.

"Move your fingers upwards slowly, like scratching, but don't put too much pressure okay?" Raizou groaned, focusing all his attention down there and making the scratching motion, parting your folds and pressing his palm against your clit, "A little... mmn... here... you can feel where the entrance is?"

"Y-Yes." His other hand slipped under your kimono to grab your ass, keeping you still on his hand, "How many can I push in?"

He was already thinking about that. "Start with one." No sooner then a few seconds later, a finger pushed inside of you, all the way in, as slow as falling snow.

"So tight. Oh gods. Are you... gonna be able to take me?"

"You're so sweet, Raizou?" You smiled at him, your heart fluttering because he was clearly thinking of your well being and comfort first, "I assure you, I'll be more then ready to take you." You were already dripping all over his hand, tightening on his finger and holding him close, "A little deeper- ah! You're doing so well. Those hands must be really skilled. I can't wait for more." Slowly he seemed to gain confidence, moving faster, trying to move his finger until... he curled his finger at just the right spot. Your back arched into him, fingers pulling on his hair and lips parting along his ear. "Mn, now you got it, do that again." He did and you reacted to him again. He seemed fascinated that one spot could make you like this. "Such a fast learner."

Your praise spurred him on, his wrist moving so fast it was almost not human, "My finger... its melting... its so tight... this feeling- I-!" His body stiffened as he pressed you down on his hand, curling his finger one more time and making you see stars. You wanted to curl up against him so badly, to feel his muscles but as you looked down you saw a very obvious dark stain in his pants.

"Oh. Finished from that? You're an adorable man, Raizou." You teased, much to his dismay, a frown forming on his flustered face. "I believe its my turn now."

"Your turn?" He groaned when you rose up and took his hand.

A gasp fell from him when you licked your cum off his glove and fingers before pulling his glove off and kissing his bare hands, "I would be very bad at my job if I didn't repay your kindness. Let's see what do I have to work with." Your smirk alone was enough to make him gulp and stutter. He seemed to regret the loss of warmth around his finger bit his dismay quickly turned into awe when you were naked in front of him, your pussy puffy and glistening from arousal. "Ah I forgot." You licked your finger, making sure he saw how your tongue circled the digit before you swiped it through your folds and offered it to him, "I told you that you can taste. That goes for this too."

Raizou blinked, taking a tentative lick, eyes widening at the foreign taste of pussy. "It's odd. But I don't dislike it." He took your hand and tried to mirror your movements, sucking and licking the digit clean.

"Very good Raizou. Now, where was I?" You ran your other hand down his front, feeling him flex under your hand, "Can you pull these down for me?" He seemed confused for a second before you looked down at his cock. A little 'oh' expression appeared on his face before you saw the first hint of smile from him. He pulled his pants and underwear down fast and now it was your turn, "Oh." You said out loud.

He wasn't huge or very thick, he was the perfect size actually, easy to take in but he'll fill you nicely that's for sure. You braced yourself on his shoulders as you sat above his cock, propped up on your knees. With one hand you reached down and stroked him once up, and then once down, feeling how hot it was to your touch, how responses he was, his hands grabbing your hips. "Will it hurt?" He asked again, looking from the tip of his cock to you pussy.

"Not when I'm this wet, not with your cock covered in seed." You pressed your forehead against his, looking into his surprisingly gentle eyes, "Do you trust me with this, Raizou?"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, silence washing over you for a minute, "Yes." A whisper against your lips before he claimed them with his own.

"Alright. Thank you." You kept your lips pressed together as you angled him up and lowered yourself on his cock. His tip was barely past your entrance and already you felt him leaking cum again. It made sense, he was a virgin after all. "Seems like I found your weakness, mister swordsman." Half-way, you took him in half way when he came again, his hips pushing up by accident and burying the rest of his length in just as his orgasm hit. "I knew it, you have so much to give don't you? You can, I'll take everything, you do-"

You found yourself on your back, looking up at Raizou who took deep, ragged breaths as his cock sank balls deep in at this new angle, "I came inside. I promise if you... I will take care of..." You silenced him with a finger on his lips.

"You might be the sweetest man I've met since working here. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to pregnancy. We have good doctors here, ways to prevent it. It would be bad for business otherwise don't you think?" He nodded dumbly as you smoothed your hands over his shoulders, feeling where his skin was rougher from scaring, "I told you, I'll take your everything. So don't hold back."

Something inside him shifted when you gave him the green light, he started moaning into you neck, really loudly, almost growling and screaming as his hips became a blur on top of you, the room echoing with loud slapping sounds of his balls and hits hitting each other. He wasn't going soft despite finishing twice already, this man had stamina that's for sure. "Good?"

He expected you to answer now? Apparently, because when you didn't he slowed down, "Yes! Good! Very good! Raizou, keep going! Feels so good to have your cock so deep!" As if energized by your words he speed back up, your legs spreading behind him and toes curling, "Fuck! Oh, oh my god! So fast, so fucking deep!" You felt more warm, hot, thick cum flooding, gushing into your womb from the tip of his cock as your body went taunt, raking your nails down his biceps, adding to his marks. "Hold me."

You can't remember the last time you told a client to hold you after sex, or the last time one even tried. Usually they would pull out, thank you and leave you to sleep alone. Not Raizou, he didn't even pull out but he held you, inhaling your scent in the pleasant afterglow. His body felt hot against your, you could feel how rapid his heartbeat was too. Even after that toe curling orgasm you still couldn't shake the idea of how cute he was. You really hoped he would be a repeat client.

#revenger #revenger x reader #revenger x you #raizou kurima #raizou kurima x reader #raizou kurima x you #revenger smut #raizou x reader #raizou x you #raizou smut #x female reader

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

Want to be on the tag list? Have an idea for next chapter? Clicked the wrong option? Reblog or Comment with 'tag me'! New? Check the very bottom for the Ao3 link. Latest chapter is below the cut!🔥

~King of the Dragonfish: Chapter 9~

Obi-Wan watches the end of Maul's translucent fins disappear beneath the water line, and scrubs a hand down his face. The jedi turns away, and plops down in a mediation pose next to the magma ball.

He hadn't quite realized the extent of it before, but the sith's mind was not… whole.

It had come out in the dips and flows of conversation. In questions about concepts that were common knowledge. Odd moments where yellow eyes would twitch off to the side, or stare into the distance. He expected any sith to be a little crazy, driven halfway to madness by the darkside itself, yes, but... this was something more.

Maul the dragonfish was a very different man from the unblinking, uncompromising apprentice he'd faced at Theed. Was it the… transformation? Was this clever, curious mind underneath the expressionless assassin all along? Was the sharp wit and quick tongue natural, or new? Obi-Wan didn't think he'd ever find out for sure.

And none of that really changed his most startling realization yet: that Maul was strangely good company when he wasn't being psychotic.

All the kidnapping and such aside, Obi-Wan hadn't… he hadn't played like a youngling tussling on the floor for the fun of it in... years? Hadn't curled up with someone to sleep next to since… well. It has been a bit. Bless him, but Anakin is a handful. Adults-only time for training and private pursuits had perhaps not been as common as they should have been these past six years.

It did not help that being on-world and free at the same time as his usual partners for casual assignations simply didn't happen enough for his, ah… tastes. Bant was a prodigious, in-demand healer, and Kit was always hairing off on another adventure.

Actually, the dry spell might explain why he couldn't stop wondering about…

More importantly, it didn't help that for being the prisoner of an evil, insane sith, Obi-Wan finds himself ever more comfortable. That was surely a bad sign. There was some sort of prisoner psychology thing… stackhold or some such? Yes, his experience was probably being colored by that.

He finds himself a bit concerned that such a thing could set in so quickly. His stay at the bottom of the sea thus far was measured in days, not weeks or months. Was his mind prone to the… stackholding?

Obi-Wan regrets not taking more psychology classes as a knight.

The jedi master hums, leaning closer to the black stone to soak up it's radiant heat.

“I need to stop enjoying myself when he picks on me,” he tells himself. “He's being a bully, and just because I like it doesn't mean it's okay to encourage him.”

Obi-Wan resolves to stop rising to provocation.

“I need to stop responding with humorous rejoinders when he is being a smart ass,” he affirms as well. “It only provides him openings to be entertaining and establish… rapport, and rapport leads to regard, which leads to…”

He resolves to be more bland in conversation.

“I must find a way to free myself. Anakin needs me. My duty is to the order, and to the people of the galaxy at large,” he states the obvious. "Though Maul seems... really quite lonesome, actually. Hmm."

His meditative self reflection continues, turning over those thoughts.

Yes he needed to go home, and to go home he needed to escape… but how? Plan Aurek had been a supreme failure.

Obi-Wan knew of a fair few animals, had connected with hundreds of different species in his lifetime… but rarely did he encounter one that was capable of prevaricating. The octopus he had called for aid had come… but it had been sentient enough to lie. To cunningly send him feelings of curiosity and friendliness under false pretenses.

The gorogoro had betrayed him. It had died horribly for it, but that was no comfort.

Obi-Wan sighs. That really had not been a good result for anyone. He still needs help though. Down, over, that way, something like a hundred yards off, he could feel the faint twinkle of his kyber. He assumes -hopes really- that his rebreather is there too.

With a heavy heart, he reaches out into the seas with the force, very careful to avoid the nexus of darkside that is Maul, and the glimmer of other gorogoro. He does not want a repeat of the previous situation, but he will not simply give up.

‘Hello?’ Obi-Wan calls, in feelings instead of words.

‘I’m friendly. I'm safe. I need help,’ he sends.

His gentle energy reaches plenty of creatures, but nothing so dexterous or intelligent as an octopus. Little fish swarm by the water’s edge, excited enough to make little plips and plonks of noise. They can't help him, but the sweetness is heartening nonetheless.

After a little while he gives up. Nothing else with enough force signature to be large or smart was nearby at the moment, but surely something with potential would happen by at some point?

What he does not sense, because it is impossible and so he is not paying attention, is the panicking flare of his padawan’s force bond. Thirteen some odd sectors away, his tiny call for help had been heard by a fifteen year old. One who had been worrying and wondering where his beloved master was.

🔥🔥 don't forget to reblog tysm! 🔥🔥

-Tag list- (Comment if you want added!)

@obimaulartfire @savageopressbignaturals @icequeen8043 @moonsickvampire @maulish

New? Start from Chapter 1! 👇🏽

#get it? DRY SPELL #cackling #yes i've made Obi-Wan aquatic-sexual in this #who can stop me? #Obi-Wan is getting stackhold syndrome oh no! #What's that? you ask #fuck if i know #darth maul #star wars #chat writes the plot #sith #zabrak #nightbrothers #maul opress #dragonfish #king of the dragonfish #obi wan kenobi #obimaul #naboo #mermaid au #star wars fanfiction #spider!maul oceanic edition #weird af #we're having fun now #minors dni #Jedi #anakin skywalker #good thing he doesn't know Cody yet #holy shit Cody would be losing his mind #monster fic

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

previous / next

summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.

warnings: basically everything horrible you can think of. ANGST, vomiting, gore x1000, friendly reminder that this is the peaky blinders we’re talking about so even more guns and gunshot wounds, everything to do with pregnancy and infertility…this chapter is a lot honestly i think we all need to hug it out after this one

word count: 3.5k

tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23 @smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess @bobafett-tea

a/n: you know that scene in friends where ross is yelling PIVOT over and over while he tries to get a couch up a staircase? no spoilers, but that was basically me writing this chapter regarding the entire vibe of the series thus far lol. i stayed up most of the night to write this.

//////

To you, hospital food tasted like wet sand.

Esme had brought you a banana from the Shelby Parlour and you’d eaten almost a quarter of it several hours ago— but the nurses had to come and take the remains because even though your stomach was pulsating and needy, crying out in pain, you hadn’t been able to keep any food down after the surgery. Bowel movements were an absolute nightmare, the mere thought of it made you nauseous to the point where it was hard to stay in the world of reality.

Your stomach was covered in jagged, bright blue stitches from bullet removal, which ached and stung every time your chest rose to take a breath, and there were tiny white claw marks pressed into John’s hand from squeezing it as hard as you could when another wave of white-hot pain raced through your brain.

(He said it barely hurt, though, so your hand remained firmly clamped around his.)

At one o’clock in the morning, sixteen hours on, the intensity of your pain had decreased enough to keep you in the world of reality, so you were awake and conscious while awaiting the final test results from the doctor.

She got hit in a rather critical area, the nurse had told John, refusing to look at you the entire time. There could be unfortunate complications from this.

If only you knew what the fuck that meant.

“You okay?“ John whispered, finally giving you an excuse to stop thinking about the ever-continuing tinnitus ringing in your ears, and you looked at him.

“What time is it?” you mumbled back.

Pausing, he checked his watch, then said, “1:33.”

You looked at him blankly, and he grimaced sympathetically, reading your mind. “He should be here soon, love.”

“I want that fucker dead,” you mumbled, trying to roll over on your other side but immediately regretting it when your stitches burned and screamed in pain.

When you looked back at John, there was a revengeful type of passion burning in his eyes, and that same uncomfortable shudder from earlier crawled up your spine as he said, “You should be able to see him die. He fuckin’ shot you.”

You blinked rapidly as tears burned hot behind your eyelids, but you clenched your eyes shut for a moment, refusing to let them fall.

Sam wouldn’t have wanted you to lie to yourself, so the truth was this: you just hated feeling so broken. This was your second hospital visit in, what, two weeks? It wasn’t that being a Shelby warranted more trouble than you being a Lee, but that they were two equally shitty options in a shithole corner of the world, and now that you were bound by blood to another man, sworn to live out the rest of your life as a housewife, you weren’t sure if you could ever leave Birmingham and feel freedom ever again. Run away and leave everything behind.

And after this bullet in your stomach, you weren’t sure if you could ever function like you used to ever again.

Both you and John looked up at the same time when you heard the sound of footsteps growing closer to your room, and anxiety made your heart leap into your throat.

There was a small CREAK, then the doctor politely edged the door open and shuffled inside.

His face was somber, and your heart immediately plummeted into your stomach, expecting the worst.

“Mrs Shelby,” he started, his voice low with respect. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

//////

When you woke up the following morning, even though you were still covered from the waist down in itchy linen sheets, lying in the same hospital bed with your stomach aching and pinching with recovery pains, confirming it hadn’t been a horrible, horrible dream, something was distracting you.

It was the bright sunlight filtering through the room, like a beacon of hope.

Actually, it reminded you of your first morning after with John: the tender smell of his skin, the feeling of your bodies gently pressed together, the warmth, the satisfaction, the residue of Polly’s perfume…

And then finally, the panic.

The bad news of last night came crashing back down onto you, and your stomach churned horribly in a way that had nothing to do with your stitches as you sat up in bed, blood thundering to your brain as a single word echoed in your mind.

Infertile.

John, the Englishman, would probably pronounce it differently than you, the American, would, but the meaning was still the same: you can’t have kids.

You.

Can’t.

Have.

Kids.

Esme would have scoffed at the sudden traditionalism, but you had the sinking feeling like you’d failed at life the longer you thought about it, and there was a horrible feeling gathering in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you had no idea how to deal with, let alone contain, and it felt like your mind was speeding years into the future, unable to get all the unspoken promises expected of a husband and wife that had now been broken out of your head, and—

You stole a glimpse at John, who had dozed off in his seat, but instead of calming you, it only made the panic in your chest rise. Impossible to know what he was thinking while he was sleeping.

God, impossible to know if he still wanted you.

You closed your eyes and raised your hand to gnaw on the nail of your thumb, a habit you’d neglected for weeks on end.

Fuck fuck fuck.

A shitty situation all around, but eventually, you resolved to go back to sleep.

//////

In your dream, you fell into the Parlour a swollen-lipped mess, the heat clouding your ability to think straight as John’s lips flew onto yours again—

SMASH!

—you’d staggered straight into something glass and it shattered, but that didn’t matter, he was pushing you into the betting shop as you threw your arms around his neck.

He swiped at something on the table and you heard it get broken, not like you cared since he was already lying you down onto the wood, kissing you like a man starving, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him so close you nearly forgot how to breathe.

As he sucked a bruising kiss into your neck, your voice came out a grinning whisper.

“You don’t want any more kids, do you?”

John was already shoving his hand down the front of your skirt, and you couldn’t see his face, but when he spoke you knew he was playing into the game.

“Maybe I changed my mind. You never know, after all. It’d be cute to see you pregnant.”

You rolled your eyes, then bit your lip as his fingers met your clit and your gut twisted in the most pleasurable way.

“Fucker,” you mumbled, but you said it with love.

Instead of waking with a start, your eyes calmly opened as the dream faded into nothingness, and you laid motionless for a moment as bleak, unchanging reality settled in.

For the first time in God only knows how long, you were completely alone in your hospital room.

The room was dark, and still you closed your eyes, hating how this all felt like a sick joke.

In the thick silence, you wondered where Esme was, and if she was angry that you hadn’t been able to get her cocaine. You wondered where John was, if he was tracking down the shooter like he’d promised. Your mind wandered to the kids, and you wondered if they knew what was happening, if they were worried about you— according to Polly, the only thing they knew was that you’d had an accident and had ended up in the hospital.

Like you’d fallen and scraped your knee.

Your tears were hot and fast and they made you feel dirty, like the sadness was filth staining your cheeks, but knowing it would’ve been worse to hold them back, you let them fall, slapping a hand over your mouth so the nurses wouldn’t hear your choked, anguished cry.

Worst of all, you were somehow thinking of what you’d be doing at this very moment in time had Sam still been alive.

You wanted to say in Paris, tidying your new apartment, polishing your French skills and waiting dutifully for the arrival of the baby growing inside of you, but the more realistic answer would be still in Small Heath, only living in the huge Lee house in the country, and Esme would probably still be wanting cocaine, and you’d still brave the whorehouse for her, and you’d still get shot, only by a Shelby brother this time around…

Jesus, John could’ve been the one who shot you.

At that thought, tears ran down your jaw as a new wave of sadness overcame you, making you feel pathetic.

Yeah, you really didn’t like thinking about this.

//////

You were discharged from the hospital days later with the stitches still in your side, and John gingerly led you to the car.

“You’re gonna want to come out to the outskirts tonight,” he mumbled in your ear before you climbed into the seat. “Tommy thinks we got him.”

You glanced back at him and John grimaced at you.

“Fuckin’ monarchist. Thought he could mess with the Blinders and get away with it.”

You said nothing and refused the hand he held out for you, and even though your stitches burned and screamed and wailed like usual, you climbed into the car yourself.

//////

POW! POW! POW!

“NOT SO FUCKIN’ PROUD NOW, HUH?”

POW! POW! POW!

You’d honestly lost count of how many times John had punched him, but nonetheless, with the man who shot you pinned to the ground by Tommy and Arthur, he was hardly interested in stopping: when you briefly caught sight of your shooter’s face in the moonlight, one of his eyes was swollen shut and quickly turning purple because of the force of John’s punch; there was a nasty yellowish-green pus leaking from his ajar lower lip, and the longer this went on, the more it seemed clear John was about to literally beat him to death with his fists.

John was yelling as loudly as he could over the sound of his own cacophonous violence, yelling himself absolutely hoarse, his voice strained with fury and hurt and sadness and fucking intense emotion you didn’t even know a human could experience, fury so strong and reverberating, you had to reflexively shiver for the man who’d rendered you infertile.

“YOU SHOT MY FUCKIN’ WIFE!” John roared, yanking a handful of his hair and tugging him upward only to slam his face into the ground over and over, and the stitches on your stomach twinged uncomfortably.

The Shelbys had promised it would be satisfying watching the life bleed out of him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else ever again, but you weren’t sure how you felt knowing that John could inflict this much pain with his bare hands.

(And you’d specifically drove to this clearing so no one would see this man die.)

“Ah, lookit that, he’s fuckin’ cryin’ now,” Arthur called out, lifting him slightly to check his face. “I really can’t believe it. He’s fucking crying.”

Then the man screamed, horribly, anguished and regretful and clearly in unimaginable pain, and the force of it made your ears ring when you weren’t even particularly close to him.

It might’ve been traitorous to do it, but a part of you cringed for him. Sure, you might’ve had a lot of issues in your life, but you usually jumped to sadness, not anger.

And if it was anger…well, it certainly wasn’t of this magnitude.

“Finish him off, John boy,” Tommy shouted over the cries of pain, holding the man down as he writhed.

“Y/N, you want to see this pathetic fuckin’ rat before he dies?” Arthur yelled over to you, and with the colour rapidly disappearing from your face, you took a few steps forward on shaky legs, hoping that when it was over with, you’d just be able to forget about this quickly.

“Hold on a minute, lads,” John told his brothers, fiddling with something hanging on his waist, concealed by his coat. “I got an idea.”

An electrifying beat, then he looked at you, and it was like all the air had disappeared from your lungs.

His face was grim. “Y/N, have you ever shot a gun before?”

Hating what was about to happen, you silently shook your head as your heart started beating out of your chest.

No. No. No.

You can’t do this.

He’s not going to make you do this.

He can’t make you do this. He’s a good man.

And then the cold, numbing realization:

He’s gonna make you do this.

“It’s loaded,” John told you, stepping forward to wrap your shaking hand around the thick black handle of the gun, “All you have to do is point and pull the trigger, alright? It’s gonna kick, but don’t let it scare you.”

As you examined the gun in your hands, Tommy and Arthur finally stopped pressing your shooter into the ground and stood up, looking over your shoulder at the gun.

“Berettas are fuckin’ nice,” Arthur mumbled into your ear, but you had no idea what that meant.

“Aim square for the back of the head,” Tommy told you on your other side. “And step back so you don’t get his brains sprayed on ya.”

Heart in your throat, you went backward by about two steps and shakily pointed the gun downward at the crying, sniffling man who had all but accepted his fate, and suddenly it was like you were incapable of feeling anything at all.

What happened next came incredibly quick yet simultaneously in slow motion.

You squeezed the trigger and the force of the bullet coming out of the gun made your hand sting, but then an absolute geyser of blood burst from the man’s fucking head, and you opened your mouth to shriek but suddenly it was like your brain was underwater so you couldn’t even really hear it, you just stepped back reflexively as bits of an organ erupted from his head and effectively sprayed you.

You almost fainted when you realized the man’s brains were in your hair.

It was like one minute you were standing and the next you were on the ground, vomiting the remains of the vegetable casserole Polly had made earlier that afternoon, but your head was spinning, you weren’t processing anything correctly, you couldn’t hear or see anything, there were random words echoing in your head instead of actual thoughts, all you knew was that there was a man dead on the ground and you had brains in your hair and you killed him you killed him you killed him you killed him—

You felt a hand on your back and the first thing out of your mouth was a hissed, “Don’t touch me.”

Luckily, the hand immediately rescinded, and as you slowly became aware of your heart racing in your chest and the tinnitus rushing in your ears from the close-range gunshot, you leaned forward and brushed the detritus of a murder out of your hair.

You were dry-heaving now, weak on all fours, but it just didn’t feel enough.

Being infertile made you feel dirty already, but now you were a murderer, and it hit you like a truck.

JOHN FUCKING SHELBY HAD MADE YOU INTO A FUCKING MURDERER.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you choked out as the same hand brushed your back again, and completely mindless, you leapt up, shoved John’s hand away from you, and started running.

//////

It took what felt like hours to get back to Watery Lane, and you were choking on your own tears by that time, completely out of breath from running and holding your skirt up out of the way because your feet were moving faster than your brain. Your hands were covered in dirt and blood and the hem of your skirt was dipped in vomit and stained with grass, you probably looked like you belonged in an insane asylum.

You ran past the Shelby Parlour entirely and ripped open the door to the Lee house, blindly running up that cramped staircase that you knew from experience led to Esme’s room.

You could hear a stampede of footsteps downstairs and yelling in Romani, evidently because a stranger had just randomly burst into Zilpha’s home, but you didn’t even care, you pushed the door open and collapsed inside, so drunk on adrenaline you couldn’t even feel your stitches anymore.

Of course, Esme turned around to see you dishevelled and bloody on the carpet and immediately became concerned.

She was in front of you in an instant.

“Y/N, what the fuck happened to you?”

“I killed the person who shot me,” you tried to say, but it must’ve come out completely incoherent because you had to suck in a massive breath, the first full breath you gave to your lungs. “I - I-“

Esme’s eyebrows furrowed and she knelt in front of you. “Slow down, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“I - I killed a man,” you gasped, your eyes darting desperately across her face as the words formed on your tongue erratically, “The man who shot me. I shot him in the head in a clearing outside town.”

Esme’s eyes widened, and you hesitated, suddenly becoming aware of the chaos this would cause if you said it, but in the end you said it anyway.

You looked her in the eyes and it was like your head stopped spinning.

“John made me.”

You knew immediately that you’d rekindled the gang war between the Lees and the Shelbys when Esme’s face darkened.

“He made you?” she repeated. “Y/N Lee, your husband made you kill someone?”

You nodded hopelessly and buried your face into your hands. “I couldn’t say no.”

Esme immediately wrapped her arms around you and you leaned into her as your shoulders shook, trying not to outright sob in front of her.

“I - I - I don’t want to start something,” you blubbered into her shirt.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” she said from above you, pulling away slightly. “You know damn well you could’ve gone to the Parlour and told Polly, right?”

You looked at her quizzically.

“And I suppose you could’ve gone to Ada’s apartment,” she continued. “But you went and told me, the dirty Lee girl who can’t get married off because she causes so much trouble.”

You could only blink.

“Because you know what I can tell the rest of ‘em. You know what the Lees can start,” she said, and the weight of what she was saying pressed on your lungs until it was hard to breathe again.

“Just give the word and the Lees will be behind you,” she finished, and there was a thick silence that hung in the air.

“John is my husband,” you whispered blankly, and Esme finally snapped.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, how did you even get here?” she shouted, gesturing wildly to your muddy clothes. “For crying out loud, did you run all the way from the outskirts?”

At that moment, there was loud thumping up the staircase, and a split-second later the door was flung open by Zilpha Lee, red in the face and yelling something in Romani.

Evidently not for the first time, Esme immediately whipped around to scream back, and only half-understanding the Romani language, you tuned it out and let your brain go underwater again, Esme’s voice echoing in your mind the entire time.

Just give the word.

She wanted you to be at literal war with your in-laws, which was insanity considering you’d only been married for a week.

Insanity considering you knew you loved him.

Insanity considering that before this, you believed he loved you.

But at the same time, John had made you kill someone. He didn’t put you in harm’s way, but he’d made you witness a horrible thing, and made you perform something that would surely haunt you for the rest of your life right after that, and after how badly you’d reacted, you weren’t sure if you could forgive him for that.

And selfishly, you’d always wanted an excuse to leave Birmingham.

And you’d never wanted to be married in the first place.

Let alone be married into the Shelby family. The Peaky fucking Blinders.

Just give the word.

Your stomach was pulsating again, and dread filled you when you realized you were about to vomit, only there was nothing left in your stomach to come up.

The urge in you got to be too strong, akin to an avalanche: blood suddenly thundering to your brain, you shoved past Esme and Zilpha and utterly flew down the stairs, into the hallway, and out of the door, until you were running down the middle of the Lane like a maniac all over again.

It didn’t matter. You were shivering and crying and the rainwater was pelting down hard on your back, but the plan was coming together at once.

I need to get out of here.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders headcanon #joe cole #arthur shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader smut #john shelby imagine

[depressedhouseplant]

Just Fucking Write - Day 74

Prompt: This is my riff on Snow White that’s also been sitting in my drafts. I edited it for my 100 words. 😝

Tags: Discussion of murder

The heels of Jungkook’s boots clicked rhythmically against the marble floor of Min Industries main lobby. As he waited for the elevator, he wondered why he’d been called to see the CEO at 10 at night on a Thursday. He’d taken unusual jobs before, but this was one of his oddest. He scanned the card security had given him and hit the button for the top floor. By the time he got to the top, he still hadn’t figured out what Kim Namjoon could possibly want from someone like him at this hour. 

When the elevator slid open, a well dressed man was waiting on the other side. 

“Jeon Jungkook?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Jungkook replied. 

“I’m Jung Hoseok, Mr. Kim’s personal assistant. Follow me, please,” he said, not so much as offering a handshake. Jungkook did his best to keep up with him. 

“Why am I here?” he asked. 

“That’s between you and Mr.Kim,” Hoseok replied. 

“You have no idea what he wants?” Jungkook asked. Hoseok turned to look at him. 

“I know exactly what he wants. Who do you think found you in the first place?” he looked like he was irritated simply by Jungkook’s presence. 

“Then you know what I do?” Jungkook asked. 

“Well I didn’t call you because you’re a prizewinning florist,” Hoseok replied. “In here.”

Hoseok opened the door to a large office. A tall, broad shouldered man was standing by the window. The light from the city behind him almost made him look like a ghost. 

“Thank you, Hoseok,” he said. 

“You’re welcome,” and Hoseok closed the door. 

“Please, sit,” he gestured to a chair in front of the desk. Jungkook sat. “Did Hoseok brief you at all?”

“No, not really,” Jungkook replied. 

“Good. I told him not to,” Kim Namjoon, the current CEO of Min Industries, sat at the desk across from him. 

“He said he’s the one who initially contacted me,” Jungkook told him. 

“He is,” Namjoon confirmed. 

“That’s all I know,” Jungkook said. 

“My request is quite simple,” Namjoon said. “I need you to kill my stepson.”

“I don’t normally kill people. My specialty is more obtaining information,” Jungkook said. 

“I’ll pay twice your normal fee,” Namjoon replied. 

“Two and a half,” Jungkook countered. 

“Two and a half and I want proof of death,” Namjoon said. 

“Any particular type or is that up to my discretion?” Jungkook asked. He wasn’t liking where this conversation was going. 

“I want you to bring me his heart. That will suffice,” Namjoon answered. 

“Since this is outside my normal...skill set...why kill him?” Jungkook asked. 

“When he turns 21 next week, he inherits everything except the CEO position I currently hold. His father saw to that in his will and his mother never changed it before she died last year. If he’s dead, then I lose nothing. If he’s alive, then I lose everything,” Namjoon replied. 

“How do I find him?” Jungkook asked. 

“Hoseok will provide you with the information we have. I heard you were the best, so I assume you can take it from there. You’ll also have Hoseok’s contact information to keep us apprised of the situation. Agreed?” Namjoon told him. 

“Here’s the account number for my payment. Half now and half upon proof of death,” Jungkook pulled out a card and handed it to Namjoon. 

“It will be in the account by tomorrow morning,” Namjoon said.

“Is that all?” Jungkook asked. 

“Yes,” Namjoon nodded. 

“Thank you,” Jungkook stood up. 

“I certainly hope I don’t regret doing business with you,” Namjoon replied. 

“You won’t,” Jungkook said. Namjoon showed Jungkook out. Hoseok was waiting for him with a flash drive. 

“It’s encrypted and has all the information you’ll need including biographical data,” he said. “It also has my information in case you need any clarification.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Jungkook said as he took the drive. 

“You are the best,” Hoseok smirked.

“I can show myself out,” Jungkook told him. 

When Jungkook got home, he plugged the flash drive into his laptop. He clicked on the file labeled “Biographical Data”.

Name: Min Yoongi

Birthday: March 9, 1993

Height: Approximately 5’8”

Weight: Approximately 145 lbs 

General Description: Hair as black as night, skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood.

“So I’m looking for a skinny kid who looks like a vampire?” he said to himself. This couldn’t possibly be that difficult. He would stand out anywhere. Yoongi supposed he could’ve dyed his hair, but changing his skin tone and lip color? Lipstick only lasted so long. Why the hell were they paying him two and a half times his already higher than average fee to find a kid that anyone with functioning eyeballs could find? Jungkook scrolled through the other files to see if there was anything that made him a threat like a black belt in Tae Kwon Do or something. He couldn’t find anything. There was literally nothing unique about this kid other than how he looked. 

Jungkook was an interrogator. He wasn’t a killer. For enough money, he’d become a killer and cut out a kid’s heart to prove it. The idea turned his stomach. He was a good interrogator. He was a very good interrogator. If someone wasn’t giving up answers, they called Jungkook. Maybe this kid knew something? He was only 20. What could he possibly know? Jungkook was stumped and he hated being stumped. He did know someone who might know something. He knew something about everything. 

I got a question. 

Jin: I might know the answer. Shoot. 

Jungkook: I gotta find this kid, Min Yoongi. Know anything about him?

Jin: You’ve got a lot of competition. 

Jungkook: Huh?

Jin: Everyone’s out for this kid’s head. It’s the only thing on the dark web right now. 

Jungkook: Independent contractors?

Jin: Mostly. A couple established names like you. 

Jungkook: His stepdad hired me & is paying me a stupid amount of money to kill him. 

Jin: You gonna do it?

Jungkook: I’m not gonna kill him, but I do need to find him. 

Jin: I’ll plant a couple seeds & get back to you. 

Jungkook: Thanks bro.

Jin: You know I hate it when you call me bro. 

Jungkook: I know. Thx for the help. 

Jungkook put his phone down and looked at the computer one more time. He closed out the file and went to get ready for bed even though it was 5am. He mulled over what Jin had told him. He wasn’t the only one out there looking for this kid. Except that he knew the other ones looking for him would kill him and cut out his heart like it was no big thing. Jungkook had started out on the dark web. That’s where everybody started out. If you proved to be both reliable and good at what you did then you could switch to a referral based business. Jungkook only worked on referrals these days either through Jin or previous clients. If the competition knew Jungkook was in the game and being paid almost triple for it, that only made life worse for this kid. He had no idea that there was a price on his head. Jin would find out what the others knew in no time. Just like Jungkook was the best at what he did, Jin was the best at what he did. If he didn’t know something, it didn’t take long for him to at least get an inkling. Jungkook sighed as he got in bed. He needed to come up with a plan and fast. 

When Jungkook woke up, there was a text from Jin waiting for him. 

He works at a diner on 6th. Shift starts at 5pm.

Jungkook:You’re awesome.

Jin: I know. Sent you a couple pix. Dyed his hair & looks like he wears makeup?

Jungkook: Got it.

Jin: Good luck.

Jungkook: Thanks bro.

Jin: Fuck off

Jungkook: Love you too

It was noon. Jungkook had 5 hours to come with a plan on how to save this kid and fool his crazy ass stepdad at the same time. He yawned and got out of bed. As he showered, Jungkook thought like an interrogator. What was the quickest way to get what he wanted with minimal damage to the subject? This might take more than 5 hours.

#just fucking write 2k24 #minors dni #bts fanfic #bts yoonkook #snow white au

[drylan]

A Full Moon’s Night | Sequel: Wintery Woof

Ship: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Ezraheler

Tags: Post-Canon, Werewolf!Dylan, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Getting Together, Kissing, Past Character Deaths, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort, Survivor’s Guilt

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Dylan and Ryan are the only survivors left from that dreaded night at Hackett’s Quarry. Unfortunately, Travis Hackett failed to inform Ryan of the existence of Silas before he was murdered by werewolf Laura. With Silas still alive and missing, Dylan remains infected, but Ryan refuses to leave him suffering in solitude. With an upcoming full moon, the now-abandoned Hackett’s Quarry becomes their haven.

“Home again home again, jiggity jig.” Dylan muttered to himself as the slightly dilapidated lodge came into view. The police tape from a month ago hung loosely on seemingly random spots of the lodge. A case gone cold. Lives gone but not forgotten. Regrets had. Pain to follow.

“Yeah, guess so...” Ryan parked the small rust bucket of a Jeep where the van once sat, primed for the camp counselors to go on their way just a month ago. The police had long since towed it away. “We have about 7 hours before the sun sets, so...”

“Right.” Dylan sighed, turning off the easy listening playlist that had accompanied their journey thus far to help Ryan bring their bags into the lodge. No bother in trying with the cabins. The lodge was sturdier and more central anyways. 

They didn’t bring much, mostly supplies to keep Ryan protected, non-perishable food, tracking gear, and sleeping bags. Well, there was really only a need to have one for Ryan, but Dylan appreciated the fact they packed a second one. Like it was just a little forest camp getaway for them, like Dylan was still human.

That thought was completely discarded as Dylan pulled a couple of small vials out of one of the bags from where they had set up in the lodge. Effortlessly, he uncapped the tops and sliced across his hand with a small, non-silver, hunting knife. The blood flew easily and he barely registered the pain. It would be cool, being so impervious, if he didn’t feel like a fucking monster and like he didn’t deserve his life.

“Three glasses of freshly squeezed werewolf juice, as promised.” He gave a lopsided grin as he passed the full vials to Ryan, who made a face.

“Gross, but, yeah, thanks. Your hand. Uh, it’s okay?” Ryan pointed towards his bloody palm.

“Yeah, yeah, already mostly healed.” Dylan tried his best not to remind himself or Ryan about the state of what he was, but with the full moon so close, all pretense was pretty much out of the window. “You said...7 hours before the moon, right?”

“Uh, 6 and a half now...”

“Right, right...” Dylan paused, nibbling into his bottom lip for a moment. “...that’s more than enough time for you to get to the Harbinger Motel, right?”

“Dylan, no-”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t matter. Look, man, we already talked about this!” The frustration was clear in his voice as the volume rose, Dylan’s increasingly sensitive ears twinged. It must have shown, as Ryan’s next words were quieter, gentler. “I’m not gonna leave you alone to deal with this. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Okay...” Dylan breathed out, decidedly not okay, but knew that nothing could convince Ryan to change his mind when he was this insistent. But still, the thought of hurting Ryan, after they both lost everyone. And it being Dylan’s own fault. It was terrifying to think of .”...just...I just don’t want to lose you, too. Like, I don’t wanna go all wolf on your face, okay? That’s-”

“You won’t.” Ryan insisted as he looped the tracker collar around Dylan’s neck. It synced up to a satellite, handheld GPS, the only type of tracking equipment that would work out here. It was normally used for hunters in the country who hunted with tracker dogs. They just hoped it worked for werewolves, too. 

It felt a little too good against Dylan’s neck. Wow, he really hoped this wasn’t awakening anything in him. “How do you know that?”

“Did you kill anyone last month when you turned?”

“What? N-No...” Dylan faltered. He hadn’t, to his own surprise. He last conscious memory had been Kaitlyn running away from him. It was for naught, in some ways, though, because she and Caleb had managed to kill each other later that night.

“And where did I find you in the morning after?”

“Um, laying next to a pond...”

“Exactly.” Ryan said, as if that explained everything and apparently Dylan’s confused expression was enough to prompt him to continue his explanation. “Listen, you didn’t kill Kaitlyn at the scrapyard, even though she was right there when you turned. You were well within running distance of people, you could smell and find victims if you wanted to. But something, even in that wolf-y brain of yours, drew you to a body of water. Towards pain. To keep other people safe.”

“So, you’re saying I’m bad at being a werewolf?” Dylan teased, hands on his hips.

Ryan snorted. “Yeah, you’re an awful werewolf. More like a sniffling poodle dog.”

“Ugh,” Dylan flopped down onto his sleeping bag and rummaged into another bag to begin nibbling on some chips. “...you know I’m a cat person.”

“Yeah, I know, and you’ll be able to see Toffee after we’re done here.” Ryan’s voice was soft then and it made something warm bubble up in Dylan’s chest. Ryan was definitely a dog person, but he had gotten a soft spot for that little ginger cat that Dylan held so dear.

He still casually flirted with Ryan since that night, but as the moon got closer, he had become more reserved within himself. Dylan prided himself on his self control. As much as he joked, he worked well with logic and under pressure, because he could always laugh things off or think things through on a technical level and make good decisions. But if he lost that control, became a monster...well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Hey, chin up...” Ryan snapped Dylan from his thoughts as he flopped down next to him and buried his hand into the open bag, stealing a healthy handful of chips. “...after we get through tonight, which we will,, maybe we can make us official. Maybe...I’ll let you take me on that date.”

“W-Wha...wait, really?” Official, like boyfriends? Holy shit!

“Unless you didn’t mean it-”

“No, no, I totally did. I mean, I do! I just...wow.” Dylan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did he somehow already turn and been taken out be a stray silver bullet or something? 

Between bites of chips, Ryan grinned, clearly pleased to have left the normally overly talkative Dylan speechless. “Yeah, so, I expect my date, you, to get through the night fine.”

“Aye-aye captain.”

After that, things got a little bit easier, calmer, between them both. They shot the shit, flirted openly, and once the alarm on Ryan’s phone went off to let them know it was an hour and a half before the sun completely set, Dylan felt far better about this whole thing that he thought he would.

Ryan drove him out to the middle of the woods, away from the main road and lodge, but not so far that it was outside Hackett territory. While Dylan stripped down to nothing but his briefs and tracking collar, Ryan wiped his face down with Dylan’s blood. 

Dylan could feel something lurch inside of him, leaning in close and sniffling at the other boy, before he caught himself and pulled back. “S-Sorry, you just...I smell good on you.”

“Yeah, you do.” In actuality, Ryan couldn’t smell himself and Dylan’s blood smelled like iron tainted with putrid wet dog. But he knew Dylan’s nerves were at an all time high and flirting with his now new boyfriend was a good distraction. “Remember the date, okay, wolf boy?”

“Date. Right. Movies. Or dinner? Hmm, maybe a picnic, or-or-” Ryan cut Dylan off with a soft, closed mouth kiss, Dylan’s own blood, mixed with Ryan’s sweat and scent, smeared across his face. “Or...whatever you want. F-For the date, I mean.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I think I like the sound of that...” Ryan nodded and then his phone chimed again. Half an hour left. Just enough time to get safely back to the lodge. “Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah...you too.” Dylan waved goodbye, feeling a bit goofy about the fact Ryan, a human, had not reassure him, a nearly indestructible creature. Not long after, as the sky darkened, he felt his body shake and tremble. He fell to his knees and his last conscious thought was the press of Ryan’s lips to his own, the other boy’s scent, before he shed his flesh and howled to the moon.

Farther away, in the safety of the boarded up lodge, Ryan crawled into his sleeping bag. Soon, howls echoed in the distance. Dylan. It was strange, how easily Ryan recognized that it was him. But he knew it was and the howl it...it didn’t fill him with fear or terror like all the howls of that night a month ago. No, it almost sounded fond, protective, kind. As much as a beast can sound kind, he figured.

As he began to settle in for the night, he let his were-boyfriend’s howl lull him to sleep.

🌙

In the morning, Dylan woke to find himself curled up into ball on one of the various piers around the camp. He was proud of his wolf self, who had picked an area far away from lodge or the main road, right near open water. He stretched and yawned, nearly jumping when he felt a gentle hand brush back his hair, but soon relaxed. “Ryan...” So, the tracker did work.

“Rise and shine, sunshine.” Ryan hummed and Dylan grinned in response, smile as bright as the shining sun. Or, maybe more appropriately, bright like a shiny, full moon.

#dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #dylan x ryan #ryan x dylan #the quarry #the quarry video game #drylan #my stuff #fanfic #the quarry dylan #the quarry ryan #ryan the quarry #dylan the quarry

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Prompt: They won their match but lost each other in the months that followed. So Hook's not expecting the text he gets one afternoon on a quiet day in the middle of his bogus suspension: "What could Danhausen have done differently?"

(You know me too well and keep hitting all my damn fave tropes lmao lmao)

He's already hit the gym, had breakfast, and marathoned an entire season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt (which will never, ever go anywhere beyond himself and his Netflix account), so admittedly, he's already in a fairly odd state of mind when the text comes through, which might explain why all he can do is stare at it for several minutes stretched long and languid.

What could Danhausen have done differently?

Hook's heart thunders against his ribs.

Done differently? Is he...is he talking about them, like them as in the heavy with meaning, full of finality them Hook still finds himself choking on in the darkest parts of the night? But neither of them have bothered to reach out for months: their whirlwind tag team had slowed into only occasional lunches, then to a few erratic texts, and then...silence.

Of all the things that Hook regrets, this is easily the biggest one; the one that sometimes stumbles him when it gums up his legs, the one that still sends butterflies out into his stomach when he catches sight of the familiar face paint backstage. He's out of it, and bored, and antsy and that's the only reason that his fingers manage to type back a reply before the roar of self-preservation panic can stop them.

It wasn't your fault. Hits send.

Then his heart flares huge, swelling through his throat as he struggles to keep his food down. He shouldn't have answered. He shouldn't have--

His phone screen lights up. But Danhausen must have done something wrong.

"No," Hook whispers, to his quiet apartment, the space he barely knows anymore. Writes back: You did nothing wrong.

The seconds feel like hours.

Then why did Hook disappear? Danhausen thought we were friends.

We were friends, Hook types, and hates how awful it sounds. Past tense? Well, he certainly can't lie, not about this.

The response: What happened? Please tell me.

Hook bites down on his lip. Thinks. Hates the way his stomach has begun to churn.

Before he has time to formulate a reply, another message comes through: Danhausen misses Hook very much.

Hook misses Danhausen so much he's fairly certain he'll be devoured by the agony, but he can't...he doesn't know how to write it, explain it.

He's stuck, unable to offer an explanation that doesn't give his whole heart away. And he's too fucking scared; that's the rub. He's always been too fucking scared, and so he bolted.

He must delay far too long, because Danhausen sends another text, clearly assuming Hook is refusing the rest of the conversation: It's okay. Hook is not beholden to Danhausen. He does not need to explain anything. But

The text stops. There's nothing more. Why isn't there anything more? Hook stopped breathing two minutes ago.

Finally, the rest pops up: Danhausen thinks Hook is more valuable than anything else in the world, even if Hook never wants to speak to him again.

"What?" Hook inhales, the air cutting like glass shards along his throat. His nerves flare spiky, barbed.

He types, blindly, head spinning, you were the only thing I could think about. All the time.

He breathes. Thinks he might die right here, on his couch.

Really? His phone displays. But Hook was the only thing Danhausen wanted. All the time.

He can't...he can't mean that...

Hook writes: wanted how?

In every way possible, comes the reply.

Hook slams his thumb down on the green CALL button so hard he nearly breaks his phone. It rings once, twice, and then Danhausen picks up with a cautious, "Hook?"

"I've loved you since June," Hook says, and he doesn't know how, isn't sure how he gets the damn words out past his teeth, isn't sure how he hasn't puked by now. "D, I couldn't... I didn't know how..."

"Oh," Danhausen says, an exhale. A sigh. "Oh, Hook. We have been very foolish."

"Have we?" Hook whispers. He's too afraid to hope.

"Yes," Danhausen says, soft. "Hook. Danhausen loves you, too."

Hook swallows, his whole body shaking. "Yeah?"

"Mm." There's a pause, and some sort of scuffle in the background, noise Hook can't identify. "Hold please, Hook. Danhausen has just seen Stokely."

"What--"

"I'll call you back," Danhausen says. "Danhausen must go commit murder for you."

"Wait, wait, wait--"

"Hello, Stokely!" He hears, just before the line clicks dead, leaving Hook to stare at his phone trying to figure out what just happened and how to function normally with the euphoria mixed with trepidation flooding through his veins.

What, and he cannot emphasize this enough, the fuck?

#please ignore me having 17 mental breakdowns in the corner thanks!!!!