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findmeinforks · 9 months

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The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words

"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.

"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.

You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.

"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."

"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"

"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"

"AND WERE NOT?"

It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.

You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.

On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.

Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.

You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.

Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.

Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.

Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.

"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.

"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.

Emily sighed.

"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.

"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.

"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.

Kim winced.

You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..

Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.

"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.

Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.

A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.

"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.

Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.

You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.

He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.

Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.

Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.

"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"

"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.

"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.

"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.

Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.

"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"

You yanked your arm from his grasp.

"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.

Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.

Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.

"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.

This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.

"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.

You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.

But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.

That couldn't be good.

"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.

You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.

Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.

"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.

You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.

"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.

"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.

Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.

Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.

"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.

Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.

"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."

After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.

"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.

"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."

"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."

Paul just nodded, praying he was right.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.

"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.

"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.

Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.

"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."

"I need to talk to him."

It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.

"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.

Paul remained where he stood,

"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"

"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.

He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.

You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.

"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."

He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.

"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.

You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.

You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.

Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.

When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.

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mayaree-darling · 5 months

Note

Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?

of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)

pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader

synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.

from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!

content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader

fic length: 4k~ (unedited)

Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.

How the fuck did you two end up together?

There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.

So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.

"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.

Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.

"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."

Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.

"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.

Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.

You looked like everything he was not.

"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.

You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."

Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."

He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."

Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"

"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"

"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."

Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.

"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.

"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.

"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."

"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.

"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"

You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"

"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.

"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.

"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.

"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.

That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.

"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."

You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.

Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.

"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."

You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.

"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.

"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.

"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.

"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."

He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.

"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."

"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."

"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."

He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.

"Thanks for helping me again."

"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."

"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.

"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"

"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."

He waves you off. "Forget about it."

"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."

"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."

"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."

Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?

"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.

When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.

Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.

Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?

That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.

He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.

He underestimated how dumb people could be.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.

He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.

“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”

“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.

“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.

“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.

“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”

He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.

“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”

The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.

“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.

“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”

They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.

Go for it.

With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.

He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.

What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.

“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.

“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.

*CRACK*

The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.

“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”

Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.

Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.

“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”

Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.

Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.

"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.

"Talk smack, get whacked."

"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"

There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.

“Hey… you.”

“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”

He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”

“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.

“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”

“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

❀BONUS❀

“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”

“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.

“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.

“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”

“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”

You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.

Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact modern au #scaramouche modern au #genshin impact reader insert #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff

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jasmines-library · 6 months

Note

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left.

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly.

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls.

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough.

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room.

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips.

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside.

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly.

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment.

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls.

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none.

You were trapped.

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor.

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps.

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest.

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance.

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered.

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder.

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed.

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives.

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped.

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind.

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob.

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too. They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike. or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend.

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end.

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will.

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr, don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.)

smut tags under cut::

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body.

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person.

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt.

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath.

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground.

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping.

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound.

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it.

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss.

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy.

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side.

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead.

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him.

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand.

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no.

“Damn, you guys really fucked him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building.

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him.

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.”

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes.

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines.

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night.

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot.

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!”

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods.

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.”

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up.

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable.

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it.

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building.

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?”

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off.

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.”

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right?

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face.

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse.

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food.

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother.

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor.

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again.

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious.

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor.

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight.

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up.

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading.

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him.

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open.

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,”

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment.

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?”

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water.

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that.

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it.

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller.

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.”

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you.

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really.

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt.

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?”

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?”

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is?

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head.

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh.

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon.

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.”

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation?

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at.

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.”

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging.

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy.

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted.

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?”

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way.

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust.

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi.

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it.

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it.

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely.

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him.

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man.

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over.

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it.

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.”

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation?

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.”

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head.

“I bet you would.”

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him.

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs.

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you.

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it.

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair.

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground.

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.”

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too.

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question.

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi.

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying.

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut.

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him.

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?”

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view.

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips.

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier.

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer.

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it.

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you.

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs.

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him.

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life.

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right?

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events.

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.”

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound.

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock.

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck.

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time.

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever.

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him.

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him.

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.”

Internally, your heart is racing.

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him.

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.”

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use.

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.”

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh.

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.”

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him.

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.”

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death.

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine.

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.”

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive.

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him.

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?”

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him.

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair.

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes.

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him.

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this.

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment.

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it.

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up.

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family.

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance.

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity.

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way.

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself.

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this.

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do.

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too.

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels.

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him.

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric.

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right?

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body.

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.”

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.”

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you.

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.”

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length.

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.”

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes.

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?”

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body.

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be.

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity.

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath.

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you.

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him.

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.”

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?”

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you.

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting.

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him.

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining.

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest.

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him.

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does.

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you.

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit.

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw.

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent.

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more.

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him.

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.”

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you.

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t.

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in.

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows.

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him”

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes.

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly.

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore. You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started.

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you.

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees.

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems.

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing.

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is.

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him.

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry.

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him.

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice.

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late.

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in.

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will.

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.”

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first.

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.”

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again.

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say.

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside.

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this.

“Just tell me where to go.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut

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idyllic-affections · 8 months

Note

i have thoughts

okay so my personal favorite hc about scara/wanderer is that he has doll joints but hoyo is a *redacted* and also he has cracks on his skin after he fights (which he has to fix)

İMAGİNE: blind reader, a little sibling to wanderer (maybe theyve also suffered from dottore who knows) and wanderer is kinda insecure and reader is like stfu idc

(im totally not planning on writing a romantic version on this totally mhm --> is in writers block and has been thinking about this for *months*)

thoughts pretty please

the wounds on your skin.

summary. the wanderer does not get wounded like a human does.

trigger & content warnings. blindness written by a sighted person (i am visually impaired but not blind, so if something is inaccurate, please correct me!), insecure wanderer is implied.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. slight reverse comfort. wanderer & blind!younger sibling!reader. 0.4k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. wanderer has doll joints in this.

author's thoughts. i can be the platonic to your romantic hehe 🫶🫶🫶 i agree though i LOVEEE wanderer with doll joints. and i also love wanderer who does not get wounded like a normal human.

"is something wrong?"

the wanderer peers in his sibling's direction, scoffing, despite his nervous fingers habitually picking at and tracing the wounds on his skin that he had yet to repair. the cracks. his elbow joint clicks slightly as he raises one arm, resting his chin in his palm. he shot them a look he knew they couldn't see.

...though, they could almost certainly feel it, given the sharp intensity of his eyes. if they did, they pretended not to notice.

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

it was their turn to scoff now, turning their body towards him. their eyes didn't quite land on his face, but did land in his general direction. he knew they were scrutinizing him even without their sight. "please. you've been quiet all day since we encountered those fatui agents earlier."

he doesn't say anything.

"...is there something on your mi—"

"i'm sore," he snaps, then winces a bit when the harshness of his own tone reaches his ears. he softens his voice a bit when he goes on. "i'm just sore, [name]. that's all."

unbothered, they pointed out, "you don't get sore."

"yes, i do."

"no, you don't," they insisted, "just— ugh, gods, brother, is it the cracks?"

he, again, fails to respond.

this time, they don't say anything either.

their hands blindly reach out for his, squeezing his fingers in theirs when they do find his hands. a thoughtful hum rumbles in their throat as their thumbs rub comfortingly over his knuckles.

"you're not human, so i won't say those cracks don't make you any less human, because you never were in the first place—"

if he had a heart, he's sure it would have stopped in his chest. had anyone else said something like that to him... maybe they wouldn't be dead where they stood (nahida really wouldn't like that, he thinks), but they would have most certainly left crying.

since it was his sibling, he chose to hear them out.

"—rather... you are no less of a living thing because of it. you have feelings and thoughts and you deserve to be treated as such." they gently turn one of his palms over, releasing the other. with tender fingers, they traced up his forearm, until they finally encountered one of the cracks in his porcelain skin. calloused fingertips carefully traced the area of the wound. "you're not any less alive simply because you get hurt differently than humans do."

the wanderer still does not reply. he feels his throat tighten ever so slightly. they don't say anything else, hoping that their point had been communicated with those words alone.

his skin was cold against theirs, but nonetheless, both the wanderer and his sibling found solace in the contact.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic scaramouche x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

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myunghology · 5 days

Text

how knights act like with a crush — 1/2 parts!

featuring tsukasa, ritsu, leo x gn reader

warnings swearing 💔

genre + layout fluff/crack, headcanons/bulleted layout

a/n YIPPEE reqs open for knights 😈

s. tsukasa

2nd place for in denial awards, 1st being izumi.. unfortunately! he isn't here.

denies liking you FOR SO LONG it's so sickening, even though it's painfully obvious that he does like you; he just doesn't realize that.

the only reason is because he says a relationship would be too distracting, because obviously, with his idol work and being the next heir of the suou family, he can't a afford a relationship right now. “who says they would even date you?” “RITSU STOP BEING MEAN” “I'M NOT??”

has a habit of buying you food, incase you didn't eat yet. does this LITERALLY everyday, and even if you did eat already, he'd probably just say; “oh.. then you can just eat this later.”

and of course his members would tease him about his ‘not-crush’.. yeahhh totally they believe that (more under the cut!)

“suo~ you to~tally have a crush on [name] don't you?” — leo. “i-i don't! where'd you even get that from..?!” — tsukasa.

has a harder time to suppress his emotions for you if you're clingy. are you wishing for this death at this point? please stop that..

gets so visibly flustered whenever you hug him, saying that quote unquote “it's inappropriate because we're in a workplace” erm okay...... don't act like you don't like it you silly goose (insult)

when you do stop tho he gets upset. “you brought this upon yourself idk why ur so sad dawg” — knights “STOP”

you noticed that, obviously.. so you decided that the best option was to probably..? keep hugging him.

“why do you keep on doing this?” (HE'S WON IN LIFE) “plz stop being delusional..”

probably. asks advice from arashi mainly because she's the only trustable one in knights. (maybe ritsu too but he currently doesn't know where he is right now) if he really does like you. “WELL............... *proceeds to recite a whole paragraph*" — arashi.

“oh.”

AFTER MONTHS. of denying his crush on you. he has decided to finally face his fears and accept it. like the big boy he i-

has been taking care of you more, asking how are you through text, but still with perfect grammar and punctuations. tsukasa do you want to tell [name] anything.

TAKES SOOOOO long to plan on how to confess. bro it probably takes him a month to confess (planning included). that's for another fic tho.

s. ritsu

doesn't like the fact that he likes you because the feeling is annoying. he hates the fact that he wants your attention everyday, every moment. but he can't help that he wants to be loved.. right? (im just like him fr. head in hands)

the way he's looking at you with stars in his eyes whenever he isn't sleeping, his shoulders are slumped while he's sitting down, looking up at you arranging knights' schedule for this week. “fix your posture, ritsu..” “o-oh..”

he feels a weird thing in his stomach whenever you defend him from people belittling him. other students have done this for him before, but why when it's coming from you.. it's different somehow.

but when they shit talk YOU because of him... OHOHOOOO he's gonna start a riot.

“ritsu.. please stop biting people to the point that they'll bleed.” “NO.”

he often finds himself clinging to you and laying on your lap! especially after once he decided that he can't control his feelings, so.. typically he just tries to embrace it.

but in all honesty? ritsu's genuinely afraid that you might think he's too clingy and you would want to distance yourself from him.

he feels a great sense of warmth when you do return his affection back tho (ﾉ´∀｀*) . he feels soooo content with you— he already wants to be with you in the future!

ritsu often hugs you from your back whenever you're doing something, which often makes people ask, “are you two dating..?” to which you deny. ritsu feels sad.. he just doesn't know that you want it to be true as well.

sometimes he's the one who answers tho, and he says, “yes. we are (#‵′)” which IMMEDIATELY flusters you, and ritsu being ritsu, he definitely teases you about it, and once he found that out, he answers for you and teases you about your ‘cute, little flustered face.’

+ one for them filipino ritsuP's (fem, sorry 😭) he'd definitely call you “misis ko”

t. leo

his crush is either painfully obvious or absolutely no one can tell if it's platonic or romantic love; mainly because he says ‘i love you’ and is painfully affectionate and clingy to everyone.

probably leaning to more obvious though. It really depends.

someone could be like “leo, [name] is there oh!”“WHERE?!”

they were just kidding.

...thats what makes having a crush on him so hard. he gives these mixed signals but then you quickly realize he does those to other people as well.

he's definitely one of those people who's awkward with their crush. “thank you for being here to see us practice! and.. for being so beautiful..“ “what?” “BRAVE. thank you for being so BRAVE.”

hugs you randomly?? from the back, side, or front bro and INHALES your scent like it's the last thing he'll be smelling until he loses his sense of smell 💀

pay attention to someone else and he's gonna be wiping his tears with a hamster.

HE GETS SOOOOO JEALOUS to the point that you don't know whether to laugh or be concerned. is it really how a friend should be worrying about you? HMMMM

“im gonna be producing another new unit for awhile—” “NUH UH. NO! YOU'RE ONLY OURS!” “LEO-SAN THEY DON'T BELONG TO US”

writes multiple love songs about you and knights definitely tease him about it. you probably somehow find it while cleaning up his messes...

sounds something a little bit like lovers by anna of the north or either from the start by laufey! or... love like you from steven universe <3

or if it's a sappy song, take romantic homicide or let you break my heart again as a reference.

“but [name] is gonna be busy again today.” “aaaUGGhHHHHHHh 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔”

he cannot physically stay away from you for more than a day. if you go to another country— best believe knights will have a concert there.

©myunghology — skiffydi

#jian’s works!#tsukasa suou x reader #tsukasa suou #sakuma ritsu x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader #ritsu sakuma #tsukinaga leo x reader #leo tsukinaga x reader #leo tsukinaga #ensemble stars headcanons #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars

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ghostphobic · 1 year

Text

╼ you’re in love

abby anderson x reader

cw - fluff , mutual pining , angst if you squint , slight infidelity

a/n - goddddd it’s been ages since i’ve written any fic, but i was up at like 2 am last night listening to music on spotify and got hit with inspiration. it’s short and sweet, but it’s the first thing i’ve written in, im not even sure how long, that i dont absolutely hate. so enjoy !

Abby Anderson was your sure thing in a world where nothing was ever certain. She was something solid and steady; an anchor in the middle of a violent ocean. You were the same thing to her. You were her best friend and she was yours, and you were sure without her you'd be lost.

Which is why you had decided to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when you see her. It's why you had decided to ignore the tightness in your chest when you see her with Owen. You wouldn't ruin your friendship with her over feelings you weren't even sure you understood. You wouldn't ruin her relationship with Owen either, because at the end of the day Owen made her happy. Her happiness always came before yours, you made sure of that.

But you were grateful for the little moments when it was just the two of you. Rare nights when neither of you had anywhere to be, and the two of you could just enjoy each other's company before you went to sleep.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Abby sits on the floor in front of your bed, a book in her lap, while you gently brush through the wet strands of her hair. She hasn't turned the pages in a few minutes and you're sure her eyes are probably closed.

"Abs?" You say softly. "Come on let's get some sleep."

She responds with a hum, closing her book and sitting it on the ground beside her so she can crawl into the bed beside you. There's a long, comfortable, stretch of silence once she settles in. Then, "Have you ever been in love?"

Your heart speeds up at her question, not knowing how to answer. You clear your throat before you speak, knowing that it would crack otherwise. "Where did that come from?"

She shrugs, "I'm just curious I guess."

It's not just curiosity. She'd seen you earlier when you were in line grabbing dinner for the two of you, laughing at something the man behind you had said. It was clear he was flirting, and to her it seemed like you enjoyed it. The sight making her so sick she had to turn away. The same way she had felt sick and looked away any time you showed romantic interest to any person in the several long years you'd known her. She chalked it up to friendly jealousy. You were just important to her, and she didn't want to share you. That's all it was. Right? It didn't matter that Owen talking to girls had never made her feel that way. You were just... different.

You look away from her, deciding that the loose thread on your blanket is much more interesting than her face. "I don't think so. I don't know. I guess I don't really know what loving someone like that would feel like."

It's a lie. You know it's a lie. You're pretty sure the way you feel about Abby is love. Sure, you love her as your best friend. But it goes beyond friendly love. The way you feel about her is something you're not even sure you could put into words. You just feel it. You just know, as much as you wish you didn't.

"What do you think it feels like?"

You shrug, "I think it depends. If you're talking about being in love, I guess I believe everyone would define it differently. To me I think it's... a warm feeling. It feels like sunlight. It feels like butterflies in your stomach. It claws at your chest. It's euphoric but terrifying. It's terrifying because one singular person holds your heart in their hands. I think it's a feeling that people would kill for. A feeling people would die for."

There's a another stretch of silence until you will yourself to look up at her. The expression on her face is unreadable, and you think you've made her uncomfortable.

You haven't. Not in the slightest. You don't notice the way her breathing has sped up, or the way her face is flushed. You aren't aware that what you just said has terrified her. Terrified her because she doesn't feel that way about Owen.

She feels that way about you.

"Abby?" You say, your voice just a whisper.

Her brows furrow and you think she's mad, but then she places a hand on your cheek and leans down to press her lips to yours.

It shocks you at first, but then you're kissing her back. It's gentle and slow and it makes your heart pound against your chest in a way that you're sure can't be healthy. In this moment you've never been more sure that you're in love with her. She's never been more sure that she's in love with you.

She pulls back just enough to press her forehead to yours. "That's exactly what it feels like."

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson / reader #abby tlou #abby anderson ff #abby anderson tlou #tlou 2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou2

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tinysocks0 · 1 month

Note

hellooooo um so i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if you’d write some fluffy madness where reader tries their best to comfort rhea after she had to vacate the women’s championship title?

you can take the concept and do what you want with it but im just begging for rhea fluff bc theres an agonizingly low amount of rhea fics as it is 🥺🙏🏼

On Top Again

Angst, fluff, fluff ending, No use of Y/N, gender neutral reader. That’s pretty much it I think

(Sorry if it’s a little short!! But I tried my best, I hope you like it!! <3)

That week, Rhea was very to herself, which was unlike her and you had no clue why. You tried cheering her up with little surprises and affection, and while it put a smile on her face it never lasted long.

You figured she needed space; Rhea wasn’t the strongest communicator when it came to her feelings. You were aware of that. You knew if something was bothering her terribly, she’d come to you.

Now you knew what kept her spirts down that week when you watched Monday Night Raw, you stared at the screen with a sad, pitiful look. That championship was proof of her commitment, hard work, and her literal blood, sweat, and tears. It was her whole life encased in a shiny golden belt she wore with pride; and that night it was almost as if it was stripped from her over an injury. You could only imagine her pain in that moment.

When she got home the next day around noon, she seemed almost defeated. You knew she put up a strong front for work, but now she didn’t seem too sure of her abilities.

You slowly walked towards her while she was crouched, giving Barry and Luna some much needed affection. She wore a baggy band shirt paired with her signature sweatpants, suitcase still at the door.

“Hey, love. I seen what happened last night..do you feel like talking about it?..”

Rhea sighed, getting up and giving you a deep hug which you returned immediately. She finally spoke up after a few moments in your embrace.

“..I’m sorry I’ve been distant..and not talking to you as much as I should. I just got the news before Raw..I felt like I needed to process it on my own before going up on stage and announcing it in front of everyone. I knew you were worried about me, and I’m sorry..”

You looked up at Rhea, cupping her face in your hands before speaking gently.

“I know you process emotions differently Rhea, and that’s okay. I understand…and I’m sorry you lost your championship. It meant a lot to you.”

Rhea gives you a pity half-smile, looking to the side.

“It did..it still does. I worked my ass off for that championship only for it to get stripped away from me. I don’t even know what I’m going to have to do to get it back.”

You heard the frustration in her voice, quickly replying to try and ease her nerves.

“Hey, hey..baby, I know you’ll get it back. If anyone is worthy of that title it’s you. It took an injury to take your title away from you, not anyone else’s willpower. That sounds pretty badass if you ask me.”

Rhea cracked a small smile, looking at you with a glimpse of hope in her eyes as you continued speaking.

“I know that championship meant the world to you. I’m sorry.” You gave Rhea a sympathetic look, putting a strand of hair that was in her face behind her ear.

“It was my whole life, but you are too. You’re my number one motivator and I’m so glad that you believe in me.”

You smiled at Rhea, tears in your eyes from the swell of emotions you felt from what she just told you.

“It’s going to take a lot more than one little injury to stop thee Rhea Ripley. Even if I also advise you stay home, you most likely wouldn’t have listened.” Rhea chuckled a little bit, showing you a genuine smile for the first time in a while.

You gave Rhea a kiss on the cheek as she kept on giggling; she draped her arms around your waist in return.

“You’re going to be on top again, Rhea, I know you will. You always are.”

#rhea ripley #mami rhea #women of wwe #rhea ripley x reader #papi rhea #rhea ripley fluff #rhea x reader #wwe superstars #wweedit

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mono-dot-jpeg · 9 months

Text

[12:32am]

a/n; just a cute platonic fic before i wonder for another hour if i decide to write something else or not. im reading through the u20 v bllk arc (i think im like halfway through) im like, i could write some good shit with this rq. someone probably wrote something like already potentially but it's rotting my brain rn so. this is totally ooc for rin probably im so sorry

also small bachira mom cameo slay

[platonic] [younger sibling! reader]

your brothers.. are cool.

rin and sae, your big older brothers who loved playing soccer. you watched them play everyday and they always looked like superheroes in your young eyes.

you grow up alongside them, just a year or two younger as you try to find what you want to do. do you want to win with them? do you want to live a peaceful life?

what do you want to do?

you don't know. you're lost without the guidance you wanted. you've been watching your brothers all this time that you lost track of yourself.

you come to realize that what rin talks about.. rings true for you as well.

that sae is just so far away from you both. but you feel far from rin too.

when did that happen?

you can only watch as your brothers fight in a colosseum called soccer where everyone in the audience is thirsty for a fight. where the new recruits meet the pro gladiators and then the pros crush them under their experienced swords and chains.

but this was different. you could feel it in the intense air. you were not even close in terms of seating to see your brothers. even with the seat you were offered from a really nice lady, you could barely see them. but you know that chilling air anywhere.

it felt like you were back in that school field with your brothers again. when he came back home from spain.

everything cracked.

"get lost rin. you're not necessary in my life anymore."

you watched as your brothers broke everything you believed in. how you three would stay together, how you would be there to cheer them on every match you could, how you would happy with them by your side.

your parents weren't even here to see the destruction they caused. the absolute pain they unintentionally inflicted on the three itoshi siblings. you came here on a whim, you wish you could say.

if you were really being honest, you really missed them. sae was always busy, and rin was in blue lock the whole time. so that left you alone.

"are you here with your family, dear? where are they?" that nice woman from before sits beside you, worried that you're all alone in this stadium.

"n-no. i'm alone." you're flustered by the sudden attention from her. "i'm here to.." you paused for a moment, "..to support my brothers."

"oh! that's so sweet! i'm supporting my own son! your brothers must be really good as well."

when was the last time you felt warm like this?

from just a simple talk with a lovely mother has you boiling with pain and longing.

why couldn't you feel this warmth with your family?

"yeah." you nodded curtly.

when the timer ticks down, you watch with dull eyes as rin and sae fight on the field again. you almost thought they would get cards for how aggressive this was. and before you know it.

blue lock wins.

and you don't know how to feel.

you saw the monster that rin was, tearing every person apart against their strongest assets. and you saw the monster that sae was, constantly calculating his way to win optimally.

today was the day that rin finally beat him.

and today was the day soccer changed japan.

the two week rest was now given to the blue lock members, and you haven't seen much of rin. that still hurt.

but you did catch him one day.

"rin.." you encounter him on a late night, hearing a set of heavy footsteps before you went to bed. "rin." you don't address him as your brother anymore. you wonder when you started making that habit.

"what?"

"you did well." you don't know what to say when you finally manage to have a chance at a proper talk with at least one of your brothers. he scoffs at your weak voice but you continue, "i saw everything. i attended the match."

"then you should know that i didn't do enough."

"i don't think like you and sae, i don't know as much as you two do-"

"i'm still far away from him now." you stay silent as he trembles with frustration and anger. "i'm gonna beat him and that stupid isagi.. "

your mouth is dry with confusion. you can't find it in you to talk to him like you once did as a kid. but you manage, "does this mean i'm gonna be alone again?"

it's his turn to go silent. his back faces you while he stares at his bedroom door.

"how long am i gonna be alone again?" you ask.

"until i beat our good for nothing shitty brother and that idiot isagi."

".. okay." you reach to open your bedroom door, "when you see sae again, tell him i said hi. i miss seeing you and sae." you confess.

"i don't understand how you miss him."

"the same way i miss you." you open your door, looking out at your bland bedroom. not a single trophy seen, not a single sign of any sports prowess, nothing that defined you. "you're both too far away from me. and i can't catch up." you sigh. "i'm just the talentless third kid after all."

"with that attitude, you deserve it." he opens his bedroom door and it's the complete opposite of yours. littered with awards and trophies and a single photo frame of the last time you've seen rin and sae happy.

"i know."

#blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #bllk rin itoshi #bllk rin x reader #sae itoshi #bllk sae itoshi #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk sae x reader #blue lock sae itoshi #blue lock rin itoshi

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marlboroenjoyer · 1 year

Text

let me show you my thanks

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore.

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.

“we’ve– i’ve– been trying to contact you.” another long beat. “you had duties to fulfill. you’ve been holed up in your dimension while i thought– lo que sea…”[1] his mouth snapped shut before he finished his sentence, cutting himself off before giving an exasperated sigh. his hands rubbed down his face, before revealing his eyes which were intensely trained on you. your expression gave nothing away, you were just going to stand aside and watch him fight with himself inside his head; or maybe he’d even just give up and leave. part of you hoped for the latter, but you also wanted him to finally be able to figure out how to speak to you.

“listen. i understand you were, shit probably still are, angry about how i reacted.” his words for grating against his clenched teeth and set jaw. clearly this was very difficult. “but i didn’t know how to react to the fact that you were a breath away from meeting death. i had come to terms with death a very long time ago. but i don’t know if i’d be able to get over it, if you died.” you continued to let him speak, watching him as he chewed on the words and mulled them over in his head.

“you are so fucking annoying sometimes, but you are so lovely and you’re so soft. and i know you can hold you own but you…” you could practically see steam coming from his ears, as the cogs in his brain turned away trying his best to figure out how to express his thoughts. he stopped talking for a moment as he approached you slowly. “ten��a tanto miedo que sentí ganas de vomitar.”[2] his voice was a fraction of the volume it once was. his hands gently grabbed yours.

“i’m sorry i was…more or less a dick. you didn’t deserve that, especially after you saved my skin. quería… darte las gracias por salvarme la vida.”[3] his eyes bore into your own. now you were genuinely speechless, and not just holding out due to spite. thankfully your body acted for you, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around miguel’s strong abdomen. you let your head rest against his chest and you waited for his reaction. after a few beats his arms wrapped around your frame. his head ducked down to tuck into the crook of your neck.

you whispered out a thank you, to which you felt a quick puff of air escape miguel’s nose. he couldn’t understand why you were thanking him. you pulled your arms back and over his shoulder, gently grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling his head back up to look at you. before he could say anything you lightly placed your lips onto his in a timid kiss. an action so tender and so soft, it managed to shatter miguel's heart and rebuild it anew. it took less than a second for miguel to kiss you back. immediately the atmosphere changed, electricity surging through the both of you as miguel deepened the kiss. his hands skated around your body, kneading the flesh underneath his fingers whenever he paused his ministrations.

your hands were still occupied with fists fulls of his hair, and you took that as an opportunity to tug on his hair as you two made out. his mouth pulled away from yours for the briefest moment; allowing himself to let out a breathy groan. his hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, squeezing hard making you yelp. as you both made out, he was backing you up into the wall; and before you even realized your back was pressed flat against the wall. his knee immediately slid between your thighs, slotting right between them as if you were made to fit against each other.

his thigh pressed hard against your core, and you let out a stuttering gasp at the pressure. he gradually took hold of all of your senses. he was becoming overwhelming. you gently pushed against his chest, humming against his lip as his tongue continued to play with your bottom lip. he pulled his head away after a few more moments, almost irritated by the prospect of leaving your lips for more than thirty seconds.

“what’s wrong mi amor?” his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. “are you still hurt?” you shook your head in response. he had backed up enough to let you slip out from between him and the wall. you grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. the whole apartment was dark aside from the dim lamps you had lit scattered around the few rooms. you could hear the rain still colliding with the glass of your window, however that was mostly drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you swore miguel could hear it as well, which only made matters worse.

you had merely dreamed of scenarios similar to these, never once thinking they could actually become real. some section of your brain wondered if you were passed out in bed already. sure you and miguel were amicable with each other, but he was such a shut off man that you were never really able to characterize what you were to him; and vice versa.

the end of your bed came in contact with your calves, and miguel pushed you down onto it. you landed with a quite huff, while the realization of what was going to happen tonight dawned on you. miguel must’ve seen the deer in headlights look on your face, as he leaned down with his hands bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

“i want to show you just how grateful i am for what u did for me… only if you allow me.” his face was nothing but completely genuine, giving you a way to say no to all of this if you really wanted to. you didn’t say anything in response, you merely wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into a much more heated kiss. miguel groaned low in his throat at the feeling of you yanking him down. unfortunately for you though, he started pulling away, instead standing upright once more to take on his suit. with a quick shrug of his shoulders his chest was exposed, suit still sitting low on his hip. not like it was hiding anything from you. you could clearly see the line of his hard dick straining against this unstable molecular prison.

“baby, if you want this to keep going… im gonna have to hear you say it.” the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a sly smirk. he wanted nothing more than to hear you say how much you wanted him at this moment. fuck he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of your plush lips opening to beg for him. he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, observing the way your struggled with vocalizing your thoughts.

“miguel…” your voice was a pathetic whimper, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate your desperation. miguel’s practically rolled back into his skull, hearing you say his name like that– his big hand gripped your knees which had been brought up to your chest, his talons threatening to spring out and dig into your soft skin.

“say it baby. i gotta hear you say it.” he edged you on, his erection now pressed firmly against your ass as encouragement.

“miguel please… i need you so bad. dreamt about this moment.” your confession felt like a swift quick to the chest, successfully ridding his lungs of any oxygen. you’d dreamt about this before. how could he hold back now.

“dios mío… siento que un día me vas a matar.”[4] his voice was a mere growl at this point, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you. “tell me, what exactly have you dreamt about?” he shifted you further up onto the mattress, giving him the opportunity to box you in with his huge frame. embarrassment was licking at your subconscious like flames, making your whole body get swelteringly hot. but there was something in miguel’s expression that egged you on. you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t tell him.

“i think about your teeth…a lot… recently i’ve found myself– ugh this is so…” you covered your face with your hands before continuing on. “i think about you biting me…again i guess… i think about your venom.” you just never ceased with rendering miguel speechless, he guessed it was just one of your many talents at this point.

you were starting to get nervous about your confession. miguel hadn’t responded yet, but before you could get too into your own head you felt his lips ghost over you neck; right across the spot he bit you the first time. your breath hitched in your throat, and you involuntarily whimpered.

“you’ve really gotta trust me if you want that. you’d give everything up to me.” you only nodded your head. you trusted him; in all honesty you think you trusted him more than almost anyone in the society. you heard him click his tongue sharply.

“what did i say earlier? if you want this i gotta hear you say it.” you felt his breath fan over your neck, as he peppered small kisses all over it and your chest. you had wrapped your legs around his waist, and he was very gently grinding down into you. gentle vibrations wracked their way through your entire body causing small gasps and whimpers to come spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

“please miguel… i surrender everything to you. i trust you.” that was all he needed to hear before he bit down into your trapezius muscle, just like before. only this time you were much more aware of the effects now. he stayed like that for a couple seconds longer, before detaching from your neck and licking away the blood from the wound. slowly but surely you felt all motor functions slip from your body. you were overcome with this euphoric dullness, you felt like you were floating. while you slowly felt all control drain from your body, miguel was making quick work of your clothes, sharp claws slicing through your shorts and shirt like it was nothing. he whispered promises of new clothes as he continued with your bra and panties.

“how are you feeling mi amor? can you speak at all?” you acknowledged miguel’s questions with a quiet moan. as much as he wanted to take his time with you, work you up before tearing everything back down; he knew he had very little patience left, and limited time to work with the venom. your metabolism was extremely fast in comparison to the usual suspects he would subject his venom to, so he had much less time to keep you in this dreamy haze. he wanted to make sure the only word you could think of was his name.

the rest of his spider suit disappeared into nothing as he positioned you. you legs had fallen from his waist a little while ago when you first started feeling the venom, so he flipped you over onto your stomach. he arms wrapped underneath your hips to hoist you up so your ass was in the air, with your back arched and chest pressed into the mattress beneath you. he knew he was going to warm you up. miguel hasn’t exactly had many partners as of late but he was aware of his size. one of his hands found its way to your pussy, his other hand bracing your hip and keeping you steady. his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit. hazy pleasure rolled through you, like waves lapping at the shore. long strung out moans clawed their way up your throat; spurring miguel on. his fingers had moved from your clit, moving deeper in as they breached your hole. a deep groan echoed through to room.

“christ you’re so fucking wet. such a slut, ready to give up any control.” god his dick was painfully hard now. pulsing steadily every few seconds, weeping precum and begging to be buried deep in your hot cunt. he felt your walls flutter and clench when he degraded you, and he filed that information deep into his brain. his fingers were so overwhelming through the fog that settled inside your skull. your breaths had become erratic, chest rising and falling to desperately take in air. you moans were cracking, as miguel fully rammed three fingers in and out of you.

“i hear you baby, i hear you. im gonna take care of you.” he curled his fingers in search of that one spot that would make you see stars. it didn’t take long for him to find it as your volume increased even more.

“m-mig…” you desperately tried to form words; to warn miguel of your rapidly approaching orgasm. you were fighting against the paralysis and the overwhelming floating feeling. your pussy clenched down tight against miguel’s fingers, a sudden wetness coating most of his hand. he pumped his fingers a couple more times as he worked you through your orgasm. once your breathing settled a little he gently took his fingers out of you. he took his fingers into his mouth, grunting as your taste flooded his taste buds.

his patience had thoroughly snapped, two iron grips digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your aching pussy. he steadily began to push himself into you, breath getting punched out of him with every inch your hot walls enveloped. once he finally bottomed out, you both needed time to catch your breath. you were so full of him and you finally felt complete. the only thing you could think about was miguel. no amount of time could have prepared you for miguel to start moving. he immediately set a brutal pace, the sounds coming out of him resembling that of an animal.

“god you’re– holy fuck- practically strangling me. greedy pussy just sucking me in for more.” you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. miguel curled in on top of you, pressing you flush against his broad chest. one hand started rubbing hard circles into your clit, whiled the other held you firmly to him. the placement of his arm across your chest allowed him access to your nipples, something he quickly took advantage of. he tweaked and pinched the hard pebble, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. he wanted to look at your face as he caused you to come undone for a second time. your mouth had lulled open, freely drooling onto the pillow beneath your head. tears squeezed their way out of your eyes.

your bodies stuck together, the sweat clinging to your skin. miguel continued to incoherently mumble spanish to you, and you were far too blissed out to listen to anything at all. the white hot coil in the very bottom of your stomach threatening to snap. you cunt fluttered and clamped down on miguel’s dick. it only spurred him on even more, his pace punishing now as he fucked you into the mattress. a long broken scream boomed from your throat as you came, your vision going completely white despite you eyes being clenched tightly shut. your eyebrows screwed up in an expression of pure pleasure. miguel slammed down fully into you, his cock kissing your cervix as he came with a loud moan. you were already so full of his cock that there was practically no room for him cum. he watched with wide eyes and his cum spilled from your spent pussy dripping down around his cock that was still inside you.

he let you both level out before pulling out as carefully as possible. the friction still causing you to cry out in overstimulation. miguel hushed your cries by pressing light kisses all over your face and neck. his thumbs brushed away the stray tears. he finally turned you back over, carefully laying your head back down onto the pillow below you.

“can you move at all mi amor?” your headspace had still not returned to normal, seeing as how you didn’t really respond. miguel got up from the bed and quietly padded over to your kitchen. you whimpered out for him to return, not enjoying the silence of being alone in the room in this loopy headspace you’ve found yourself in. a few moments later he returned to the room, a cup of water and warm washcloth in his hands. the bed dipped underneath the weight of his body as he set the cup of water on the table for a moment and began working on getting you clean. once this was done he flung the now dirty washcloth into your hamper.

his strong arms shifted you for the last time that night, leaning you against him with your head cradled against his chest once he had gotten comfortable. with you in this position he reached over to grab the water and pressed the rim to your bottom lip, silently offering. you dipped your head back just enough to take a couple of careful sips before relaxing your head against him once again. with the rain as white noise in the background you drifted in and out of consciousness.

“gracias, mi amor.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] - whatever

[2] - i was so scared that i felt like vomiting

[3] - i wanted... to thank you for saving my life

[4] - dear god... why do i get the feeling you're going to be the death of me

#across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse smut #spiderman 2099 imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut

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heyitsspiders · 25 days

Text

Bitten Apple ~ AdamsApple Fic - CHAPTER 5

Adam and Lucifer deal with their actions

Ao3 Link

a/n: AAAA IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! i've been getting back into a few games recently so i've been putting time into that and i've just also generally been less motivated to write so i can't be so sure when the next chapter will be out -- so please bare with me! again, so sorry this took forever

Aftermath

Lucifer panted heavily, chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He looked down at Adam under him, he was so fucking good like this with Lucifer’s cock inside him…

Wait…

Reality crashed onto Lucifer – he had just fucked Adam, the man who had hurt his daughter, destroyed her hotel and murdered one of his daughter’s friends. Oh good golly gracious he was the worst father ever. How would he tell Charlie this – should he? He looked back down at Adam, who had apparently fallen asleep, and shook his head – think later, remove dick now.

He carefully pulled his sensitive dick from Adam and began cleaning up and putting his clothes back on. Once they were no longer covered in cum, he stood there looking over Adam – what was he going to do? Lucifer didn’t want to just leave him here – he was the Devil, not a monster – nor did he just want to send him off to his own room alone.

Lucifer face palmed, grumbling. How could he let this happen? And why did he feel the need to be so nice to him now? Of course it could be just the aftermath of sex and wanting that comfort, plus it just felt wrong to have him wake up alone.

“Urgghhhh,” Lucifer groaned before he waved his hand, comfy loose clothing appearing on Adam’s bare skin. Within another second they were both snapped into Lucifer’s bedroom.

He shouldn’t be doing this, this was a horrible man that had done so many bad things… But man, Adam had somehow had some good points in their back and forths. He had tricked Eve, even if he hadn’t meant to.

“I don’t care about them leaving me, I’m upset that you left me, dumbass!”

That’s what Adam had said, and definitely had meant it with how quickly he tried to retract that statement. Adam had missed Lucifer? More so, upset Lucifer left? He hadn’t even realized he had left the first man, he had Eve after all once Lilith got with Lucifer.

Lucifer put a hand on his temple, it was too late and he was too drunk for this right now. He needed to sleep. He picked up Adam easily and set him on the far side of the bed and lazily threw the blanket over him before walking to the other end, put himself in his own pajamas and got cozy. It felt weird to have another person in the bed again but as Lucifer drifted to sleep, he quietly admitted that it was nice to no longer be alone.

Adam woke up the next morning from his bed dipping like someone was crawling out of bed – who the fuck was in the bed with him? He cracked open an eye and looked around. This was not his fucking room. Where was he??? He sat up, dull pain flowing through his body, and looked around.

“Goodmorning,” a voice to his left said, his head swung around only to be met with Lucifer’s dumb face.

“What- why- what the fuck?” Adam stumbled for the right words, where was he, why were there so many fucking ducks around the room and why was Lucifer getting out of the same bed as Adam? Also, why were Adam’s clothes different?

“Do-” Lucifer started and quickly closed his mouth. He looked around again as if he was looking to see if someone was around before he spoke again, “...do you not remember last night?”

“No?” Adam scrapped his mind for the previous night's events, a hand to his head.

“Well,” Lucifer tugged at the collar of some weird ass set of clothes that had fucking ducks on them? What was this man’s obsession with ducks? “I made you quite a few drinks and we both got really drunk.”

That sounded familiar, his memory was slowly trickling back to him. Lucifer made him some actually good drinks, they drank a lot, then they talked… He felt like he was missing a big important part that explained why the fuck he had slept with Lucifer.

The last piece of the puzzle clicked – holy shit he had actually slept with Lucifer. His face grew extremely hot.

“Oh my fucking God, no, that didn’t- I’m not gay!” Adam protested. It was a bad dream, that hadn’t actually happened.

Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed, and cleared his throat, “uhm, yeah. It- it yeah it did happen.”

At least Lucifer didn’t seem happy about this either – Adam couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing, like no he wasn’t queer but come on! He was Adam! Who wouldn’t like sex with the first dick!

Lucifer avoided eye contact but still had that layer of calm – Adam couldn’t understand how when the man had literally been balls deep in him. Gross, Adam didn’t like that thought – “we can forget this happened.”

Adam nodded quickly, “yes, I agree. This never fucking happened, goodbye.” He swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the door – walking was really hard for some reason that Adam refused to think about for too long – before realizing he had no idea where his room was from here.

Adam inhaled sharply, pissed. He would fucking figure it out on his own, he didn’t want to talk to Lucifer anymore right now. He pushed open the door and stormed off down some fuckass hallway, seething. Anger pooled inside of him as he recounted the previous night’s events, he was just so pissed off at Lucifer. And he was mad at himself too – why hadn’t he beaten Lucifer to a pulp? Why had he gone along with it? And the fucking noises he had made, Adam cringed just thinking about it. Worst fucking part was Adam had enjoyed it, even now he couldn’t deny how fucking amazing it had felt – but he didn’t dwell on that part for very long. He’d much rather not think about it.

He continued turning down hallways and going down the numerous stairways, shoving a few vases and lamps off their little tables to relieve some anger, until he finally stumbled upon a part of this maze mansion that looked familiar. Now he should just be able to take this left and – finally! His room. He shoved the door open before slamming it behind him, launching himself onto his bed and burying his head in a pillow.

Muffled screams echoed in the quiet room while Adam shouted into the pillow – this was all so fucking stupid. Stupid Lucifer, stupid drinks, all of it! He wasn’t gay, he didn’t like dick, he didn’t like men, he wasn’t a fag, he wasn’t gay–

Fuck! Why did Lucifer have to fuck him? And why did Adam let it happen? Lucifer had given him an out, he had given Adam the chance to end that interaction… But he didn’t and he had no idea why. And Goddamnit he enjoyed it too! His face burned as he recounted how Lucifer pounded his ass so hard he swore he was in Heaven again. He violently shook his head and sat up, hands itching to destroy something. He was pissed and needed to take out his anger on something to take his mind off of Lucifer.

Adam shoved himself off the bed and scanned the dirty floor for something he didn’t care about. His eyes caught on book – perfect, he didn’t care too much for reading. He wouldn’t miss it. He bent down and snatched it up into his claws, making quick work of tearing it into two. Pages fluttered down onto the ground as Adam continued ripping it, words becoming unreadable as they became shredded by Adam’s furious claws. Once the book was just a pile of scraps he moved onto another book, then another, and another. He wasn’t sure when he started shaking, maybe he had been the whole time, Adam didn’t know. His throat burned but fuck him if he was going to cry again – he’d done enough of that these past few days for the rest of his life.

When all the books and other objects he wouldn’t miss were heaps of trash he finally stopped, panting and lightly sweating. His chest was heaving as his sharp eyes scanned the wreckage – this was so fucking stupid. Adam, reduced to a mere bitch for the Devil.

Adam sat down on his bed, claws clenching the sheets. Was he gay? Did- did he like men? But he liked women! His children and time in Heaven proved that – he couldn’t be gay.. Right?

It finally clicked – he enjoyed it because Lucifer was small and feminine. He didn’t like men, Lucifer was just woman-like.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he let out a sigh of relief. Thank God that issue was solved, though it did leave a lingering question:

Should he continue hooking up with Lucifer?

His immediate answer was no – why the fuck would he want to?... But also, fuck, game is game. Why shouldn’t he take free pleasure? Adam was stuck in this damn circus tent, might as well have a little fun, right? Plus, he didn’t have to worry about his actions making him a faggot – it’s a win-win in Adam’s book. Though a weird feeling lingered in his chest despite the reassurance of his straightness – is this really what he should be doing? Fucking the only person he has contact with because Lucifer looks close enough to a woman? Adam cringed, it sounded way worse when he thought of it like that – it sounded like he was some desperate whore for whatever dick he could find and Adam hated it.

“Urrgh!” Adam exclaimed as he pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes as he fell backwards on his mattress. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why can’t this just be over like some awful nightmare?

Fuck this.

Fuck Lucifer – not literally.

Fuck everything!

This is all fucking bullshit that Adam shouldn’t have to be dealing with. He wouldn’t be dealing with this if that bitch ass maid didn’t stab him to death.

Exhaustion from his totally-not-a-tantrum started to set in, but he really didn’t want to sleep – he literally just woke up. So he just laid there, looking up at the ceiling and he debated back ‘n forth on what to do.

Lucifer paced around his room, fingers passing through every part of his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. Okay, he fucked Adam, huge problem. Bigger problem, he wanted more.

He stopped in front of his vanity mirror to look at himself. He had changed out of his sleepwear and now was wearing more suitable day clothes — a simple white collared shirt with black pants, Lucifer couldn’t be bothered to try today.

“This is fine, it’s fine, everything is fine,” he lied to his reflection. Nothing was fine and he knew it.

“Things will return to normal, like it never happened. No one else needs to know.”

His own eyes bore into him as he stared hard at his reflection. He was pathetic. Lucifer sat down on the stool in front of the desk and leaned against his propped up hand, sighing. How was he supposed to look at Adam without thinking of his face contorted in pleasure and bliss? Lucifer’s face grew hot at the memory — Adam begging for more, for Lucifer.

A sense of pride bubbled up in his chest — the self proclaimed “dickmaster” reduced to a whimpering mess under the very Devil he hated — It was too good. As the events replayed in his head and he laughed softly to himself, shaking his head — things would not go back to normal, and honestly? Lucifer didn’t care. He would enjoy this and he was sure Adam would too if his blissed out face was anything to go by.

Lucifer chewed on the inside of his cheek, of course, there was the big possibility that Adam wouldn’t want that — which Lucifer could live with. At the very least he got to do it once and if that wasn’t Adam’s style then he can settle for just making him pay via other means. Lucifer chuckled to himself as he recounted how embarrassed Adam had been following his orders — oh yeah, he’d be just fine ordering him around until the first man learns that he isn’t as great as he thinks.

He stood up, combing his hair slick back with his hands, he’d bring it up to Adam when he next saw him – which he figured wouldn’t be for awhile. He’d give him two days to recover, after that Lucifer is talking to him whether Adam likes it or not – Lucifer can’t be too nice to the bitch. Afterall, Adam deserved every crisis Lucifer was sure he was having.

The next two days went just about as Lucifer expected – he’d wake up, get changed, eat, and maybe even briefly see Adam, who would instantly turn tail when he saw Lucifer. It felt quite lonely and boring if he was being honest. He had grown to enjoy poking fun at Adam and watching him get all pissy but with this grace period he couldn’t do anything. Of course, Lucifer debated not giving him any mercy but he felt like this wasn’t something Lucifer could just bring right back up. Lucifer took to making another duck with his extra freetime – any resemblance to Adam was a total coincidence.

It wasn’t Adam! It was just a rubber duck with little lamb ears and curved horns and little spikes and okay yeah it was basically Adam – but it was merely because Lucifer was curious how he’d look as a rubber duck considering he is such a mashup of different things. You got some sheep, human, demon, bird and man-child. Quite the combination.

By the end of the second day the basic shape was done – sure, he could just magic it complete but he really enjoyed crafting these small rubber ducks and adding every single little detail by hand. It made it all the more rewarding. It was late into the evening when Lucifer finally set the rubber work in progress down on his workshop desk to be finished at a later date. He stood and stretched with his arms above his head as he yawned. Tomorrow he’d talk to Adam and finally set this whole thing straight – or well, not straight depending on how things went. Lucifer rubbed his eye as he made his way down the halls to his room, eventually passing by Adam’s door and resisting the urge to barge in or at least knock. His hand reached out for the cool metal knob and twisted, the door hinges creaking every so slightly as he pushed the door open and walked into his own room. However, his room wasn’t as empty as he expected it to be, instead, there were a pair of brilliant golden eyes staring at him from his bed, causing Lucifer to jump nearly five feet off the floor – it was incredible Lucifer didn’t scream or blast the intruder’s head off.

He put a hand to chest as his eyes finally made out the figure on his bed – Adam. “Adam, what are you doing in my room?” He snapped.

Adam rolled his eyes, “calm down, bitch.” He folded his arms, “I decided I uh-” he swallowed, “that I didn’t want to forget.”

He blinked several times at him before speaking, “what?”

Adam scowled, ears pinned “I’m not fucking saying it again. You either heard me or you didn’t.”

Lucifer shook his head, waving his hands, “no, no, I heard you – I just, didn’t expect.. This?”

He huffed, “the fuck does that mean?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to as well, is all,” Lucifer said, shrugging.

Adam avoided eye contact, face growing a bit red, “so.. are we… gonna..?”

“Right now?”

“Well fucking yeah! Why else would I come into your dumbass room?” Lucifer grimaced – he didn’t like how commanding and entitled Adam was acting. He’d fix this.

He cocked an eyebrow, “and what makes you think that I’ll comply?”

Adam paused at his, mouth agape as if people saying ‘no’ to him or just implying they wouldn’t do what he wanted was new – which, it probably was. Lucifer shook his head, walking closer to the other man, “If you want me to fuck you then you have to ask nicely-” Lucifer hanked Adam’s horns, causing the man’s head to turn upwards, “-pet.”

It was so much fun watching Adam swallow hard and try to recover from what just happened to him, his dazed and wild eyes, his burning red face, all of it like a treat for Lucifer’s eyes. He released his grip and shifted into sleepwear as he walked around to the other side of the bed.

“If you ask nicely tomorrow and behave then I’ll agree, but for now I’m very tired,” Lucifer stifled a yawn as he got into bed. “So, goodnight lamb.”

Adam just stared at Lucifer – for how long, he wasn’t sure. At some point Lucifer heard him slowly tucking himself in, grumbling to himself like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted as Lucifer drifted to surprisingly peaceful sleep.

Adam couldn’t sleep at all, his mind running five million miles a second with ideas and most notably regrets. He should not be fucking doing this, he should not have done this, he should have stayed in his room until Lucifer got bored and threw him out or something. Sure he wouldn’t last out there – much to the damage of his ego – but damnit if it wouldn’t be better than here… Right?

He rolled over, now facing Lucifer – who was just somehow casually sleeping. For a brief moment he was back in the garden, laying next to Lucifer in the soft grass under the tall apple tree as the dark sky filled with bright stars, the gentle breeze flicking Lucifer’s golden locs back and forth. Everything was peaceful as they laid under the stars, Lucifer’s soft, warm hand in his until Adam blinked and he was back in the mansion, the stars, grass, tree, and peace gone in a flash.

Adam grumbled and rolled onto his back, a ripping sound behind his head shooting through his ears as he did – he fucking tore the pillow with his stupid, huge ass horns. He shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Adam was suddenly hyper-aware of his new body – his claws, his ears, horns, fangs, hooves, everything! None of it was right, none of this should be happening… But it was and there was nothing Adam could do about it. He lowered his hands to his side, blankly staring up at the sheet that was draped above the bed.

There was nothing Adam could do.

Well, nothing Adam wanted to do.

He shouldn’t accept this, it wasn’t right and he shouldn’t stand for it!... But what other choice did he have? As much as Adam hoped, no one was fucking coming for him – they either thought he was dead and there was nothing they could do even if they knew he wasn’t. He was a sinner, a demon, nothing more than a piece of filth you eventually scrub off – but as much as he hated everything about Hell, it hadn’t been too bad all things considered. Even Lucifer, surprisingly.

Adam turned his head – much more carefully – and looked over at Lucifer again, still peacefully sleeping. Lucifer had been way less annoying recently and it was frustrating – it was making it harder to hate him when he was feeding and giving Adam a place to live. Maybe that’s why he had given in so easily, Adam wasn’t sure. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head and he needed sleep that wouldn’t come to him – he was still fucking thinking about what Lucifer said to him. Adam hadn’t been sure what to expect when he told Lucifer that he did, in fact, want to have another round, but being fucking teased was not on the list.

Before Adam knew it the light of the morning was creeping into the room through the small gap not covered by curtains. He groaned, he wasn’t sure if he had slept but if he did, it didn’t feel like it. His ears perked to the sound of rustling sheets to the side of him where Lucifer had been laying.

Ah, he was awake too.

Adam could hear the other man sit up and yawn, presumably stretching as he did before sliding out of bed and walking to the connected bathroom. Adam sat up, rubbing his sore eyes. A headache was starting to form as his tiredness was starting to set in. Adam looked around the duck-covered room, it was almost impressive how many there were if it wasn’t a sad display. Adam jolted when the bathroom door opened once more, Lucifer coming out and looking at Adam.

“Good morning Adam, how’d you sleep?” Lucifer yawned.

“Like shit, hardly fucking slept,” Adam huffed.

Lucifer looked over him, “I can tell.” Adam opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Lucifer continued, “get some sleep.”

Adam blinked, “what?”

“Get some rest,” he simply restated. Before Adam could question his sudden tenderness he added, “you’ll need it.”

Adam stared at the other man, face hotter than the fucking sun as Lucifer just smiled at him. Lucifer clapped his hands together, his usual formal clothes appearing on his small frame, “Welp, I’m going to eat breakfast.” And with that, he walked out the room and was gone.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer #sinner adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam #lucifer x adam #adam hazbin hotel #adamsapple #guitarduck

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aenokiawrld · 20 days

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⋆⭒˚｡⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝓶𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓮 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 !!

ft. the strawhats

masterlist

a/n: going to see ayesha erotica tonight, omg what if she signs my right tiddy

what movies do the straw hats like?

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: my headcanons, if u don’t agree that’s fine just writing them cause it’s silly, grammar lowk rn cause im crazy

tags ✮⋆˙ crack fic, i just randomly thought of this and immediately had to write it on docs lmao, if it’s ooc i lowk don’t care

luffy

not say saying this to infantalize lil bro but i see him unironically into how to train ur dragon and mostly likely watched it over 100x. but tbh, i don’t blame him bc the movies are lowk gas so.

i also see him getting riled up over king kong vs godzilla or just any action movies like marvel. oh and he would definitely headcanon the crew as different marvel characters for funsies.

probably kins brad pitt

zoro

you cannot fucking tell me bro doesn’t watch kill bill or any bruce lee movie.

definitely got scolded by nami when she found him recreating a scene from charlie’s angels.

idk i don’t got a lot to say about him bc i feel like bro’s just interests are self-explanatory. he definitely is against the whole romance sappy shit.

nami

my girl loves some cute ass rom-coms, i can feel it. she definitely eats up 13-going-on-30 or 10 things i hate about you.

oh, she eats up telenovelas…who cares if it’s in another language, if it involves love, angst, and death, she don’t care. on the wings of love~

definitely cried watching marley and me, cannot tell me otherwise

usopp

this man is watching the rom coms with nami. he unironically loves romance movies. sure, he’ll watch a few action movies but come on…bro was prolly watching the new sydney sweeney movie his bestie (nami).

nami will invite him to the library while the whole crew is asleep for silly sleepovers. they’ll put on a random rom com while gossiping and giving eachother spa days.

him and nami were holding eachother while sobbing after watching the ending to marley and me for the 10th time.

sanji

watches any movie that discusses the beauty of culinary art.

he definitely enjoyed watching the menu and became fascinated with the horror elements that complimented a “sophisticated work of art.” oh and prolly watched the american girl movie with olivia rodrigo as grace (cause she’s like a baker in the movie lmao).

*sigh* ok so like he prolly LOVES titanic and imagine rose as nami. prolly tried sneaking into usopp and nami’s sleepover but got his ass beat cause he wasn’t chill enough to come ova.

robin

ik she into them campy movies or horror but mostly psycho horror. in terms of camp, definitely the devil wears prada. for horror, she’d prolly like hereditary(?) (lemme sit on it ill prolly change it later) or she’ll like them classics and im not talking about just 80s classic, no, she prolly watching dracula before it had fucking sound.

franky

fucking top gun maverick. bro is the definition of a gen x mom. or prolly crying to a studio ghibli movie or the notebook(?) OR he can be cunty by watching legally blonde bc elle woods is SUPPERRR tbh i think bro’s taste would lowk be diverse.

chopper

mid joining usopp and nami’s sleep over and crying with them to marley and me. or he prolly watching zootopia and would be so amazed bc it’s an allegory for segregation

jinbe

watching that one lowk boring movie about stocks with christian bale. lowk fucks with that one princess diana movie with kristen stewart. yk what, fuck it, he prolly fucks with the godfather.

brook

some stupid ass movie from the 50s?? full on black and white shit. wait, ok, i did a film class and all i can remember was like vertigo which was lowk good and whats up doc.

#one piece #am i cooking #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #usopp #god usopp #nami #vinsmoke sanji #franky #jinbe #nico robin #tony tony chopper #soul king brook #fanfic #crack fic

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carlos-in-glasses · 7 months

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Thank you for the tags @carlos-tk @thisbuildinghasfeelings @inflarescent @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @strandnreyes @sanjuwrites @heartstringsduet @whatsintheboxmh @herefortarlos 🩷

Something from Flashback Fic (which I'll start posting on Sunday!) It's 2021, the day TK and Carlos break up. Carlos is drawn back to the honky-tonk...

Smiling politely but tearfully at the barman, Carlos orders a tequila slammer.

The barman blinks. “Excuse me?”

“One tequila slammer, please,” Carlos repeats, “Actually make that two!” He’s only ever had a tequila slammer during Austin Pride, at a pop-up bar with rainbow awning called Mermen on the Rocks. The silver tequila was mixed with red food dye to become pink.

The barman raises an eyebrow. He’s an older guy – a gray-bearded biker type in a leather waistcoat. His arms are covered in aged, greening tattoos of snakes curling around daggers, thorny roses growing around crucifixes. “How about one shot for the road, and then you get a taxi home and drink lots of water, son?”

“No, no, no!” Carlos appeals with flare. “I can’t go home. I have to stay right here.” He spirals a finger and then bounces it against the bar. “Right here.”

“Why can’t you go home?”

“I don’t have one. I mean I do. I’m a homeowner.”

“Okay.”

“But I was staying with my…my…” Carlos keeps swirling his finger in the air, like he’s aiming to land on words visible only to him. “But! You know. Sometimes.”

“Ah. Yeah,” The barman smiles. He has a gold tooth. Shiny. “I think I get what you’re saying.”

“Thank you. You’re the only one who does.” He’s also the only person Carlos has talked to since TK fled from him at 2 p.m. this afternoon.

“Women trouble,” the barman says definitively.

“Something like that.”

“We’ve all been there.”

“I haven’t.”

“No?”

“I mean. I have. Literally with a woman.”

“Uh huh.” The barman surreptitiously fills a glass with water and pushes it towards Carlos slowly.

“But this is different. TK’s different.”

“Flowers. Chocolates. A groveling apology. It’s all we’ve got.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The barman stifles a laugh. “You almost certainly did.”

“All I did was buy an apartment for us. Without mentioning it. But like…it was meant to be a happy thing. A nice surprise. It was meant to be, like…hey I got you a piece of forever, and this piece of forever has great light, and it’s near clubs and that really good bakery. You know?”

“Sounds like a good forever to me.”

“I thought so.”

“Have a little water, son.”

Carlos seizes his glass of water in both his large hands, like he has the dexterity of a three-year-old. He sips from it gently. “This is good,” he says, as if the barman has given him something new and delicious. “My partner is totally sober. My ex, I mean.” His voice cracks as he cries. “I haven’t been drunk like this in a long time.”

“That does not surprise me.” The barman sighs and hunches, leans his folded arms on the bar to create a little privacy with his shadow. He lets the strange man cry in his presence, as many have done before.

“We had our first dance here. First kiss. First–”

“Son, look at me and listen,” the barman says firmly. Carlos does. He looks into friendly blue eyes surrounded by crinkled skin. “Tomorrow is a new day. You sober up yourself, and then you take that pretty girl the biggest box of chocolates your money can buy, and the biggest motherfucking bunch of roses too. You get down on your knees and tell her you love her with your whole dumbass heart. I’ve got no other advice for you, than to try.”

Tags below + open tag!

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @inkweedandlizards @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @orchidscript @basilsunrise @mikibwrites @fitzherbertssmolder @ambiguouspenny @wandering-night19 @catanisspicy @sugdenlovesdingle @noxsoulmate @theghostofashton @paperstorm @reyesstrand @goodways @bonheur-cafe @freneticfloetry @rosedavid @chicgeekgirl89 @spaghett-onaplate @liminalmemories21 @never-blooms @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @ladytessa74 @lightningboltreader

❤️ 🩷 🧡 💛 💚 💙 🩵 💜

#wip wednesday #flashback fic #cig fic #my fic #tarlos fanfic #cig tagged #I'm so exicted to upload chapter 1 soon!

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cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut · 4 months

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WEDNESDAAAY. Thanks to @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @sznofthesticks @redshirt2 @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @birdclowns @louis-ii-reyes-strand and @whatsintheboxmh for the tags! Here’s a little more of angsty smut fic, First Time After.

They don’t have to talk about how they want it. TK lies on his back for Carlos, and Carlos slides under the covers alongside him, lays next to him long enough to reach for him, to find him thick and hard once more. He’s aching there, his balls tight and his c*ck straining for Carlos, precome spilling almost lazily from his slit. The base of his c*ock is pale, the rest of him as red as evening sky. He’s hot to Carlos’s touch when fingers skirt over his sensitive skin again — he must be. He can feel the heat of himself just as he feels Carlos’s own, the way Carlos tilts his hips just to press his er*ction against the side of TK’s thigh, grinds slow against thick, bare muscle and strokes TK at equal pace to his thrusting. Carlos offers him three long strokes, and the gentlest press of his teeth into TK’s shoulder. The pain is quiet but sharp, and it grounds him the way it always does when Carlos sets his teeth to him like this. The immediacy of it carries a strange sort of warmth, the way TK’s brain is wired to take pain at Carlos’s loving hands, and turn it into pleasure. It slides through every crevice of his mind, and drowns out the whirring din of reality.

They moan together, TK sliding his leg barely an inch across the mattress, making use of what little space still exists between them, and pressing his leg hard against Carlos’s c*ck. He feels his boyfriend’s wetness, hears the way his moan cracks and splinters in response, a fault in his careful armour of steel. TK adores it, uncovering Carlos in this way. Carlos told him once, after an extra glass of wine with dinner, that he’d more or less enjoyed sex before TK, but that he tended to spend a lot of time in his head during the act itself. He’d be so focussed on being a considerate top, a good lover for the other person, that there were times his own arousal fizzled out before he could climax. He’d shrugged when he said it. TK had reminded him that these things do happen, but that if Carlos ever felt neglected by TK in bed, that was something different, and TK trusted him to speak up about it — needed him to.

“I’ve never felt like you’re neglecting me,” he’d said, not drunk enough to slur his words, but tipsy enough to smile crooked as he spoke them. “Most of the time I just get lost in you. In — hm, yeah — in a good way. It’s amazing, actually.”

And TK, with as much eloquence as his astounded heart could muster, breathed, “Fuck, baby.”

He makes sure not to neglect Carlos tonight either.

No pressure tags below cut 💛

@paperstorm @orchidscript @welcometololaland @carlos-tk @catanisspicy @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @rosedavid @reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @sanjuwrites @chaotictarlos @goodways @detective-giggles @fitzherbertssmolder @herefortarlos @mooshkat @inflarescent @meditating-honey-badger @velvet-ink @three-drink-amy @thebumblecee @wandering-night19 @wtfuckevenknows @thisbuildinghasfeelings @jesuisici33 @inkweedandlizards @reyesstrand and YOU if you’re not tagged and want to play!

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #tarlos fic #wip wednesday

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

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Hate To Love You | ii

Read part one here

Read part three here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, female masturbation, slight touch of (consenting!!) voyeurism, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, a bit of choking, unprotected sex (god please wear protection, im sorry i keep doing this), sex in a sort of kinda public place, shower sex, continuing to have sex while someone is talking to you ? Idk what that’s called but yeah, that, swearing, talking about toxic ex’s, fluff, angst, love triangle shit, sad Danny and Sammy (very much deserves a warning), sorry if I missed anything!

without further ado, here’s part two! Hope you enjoy :) also fair warning that this is actually kind of filthy by times 😭 I’m unsure of where that came from, but anyway. beware, this kind of has emotions all over the place. also disclaimer, I set this up as a terrible situation right from the beginning because for some reason i literally live for writing angst. i only started this fic bc i knew how i wanted it to end. it’s a character flaw now ig. please be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

Your heart drummed in your chest as your hand slipped around the doorknob, opening the door and sliding through the crack. You let out a sigh of relief when the latch clicked behind you with no interruptions. See, the plan was that there was no plan. Just you and Sam inconspicuously sneaking off at different times and hoping nobody would notice that you’d both magically disappeared without a trace. So far, it had worked out in your favour. And if it hadn’t, nobody had said anything yet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest course of action, but it was the one you were going with. You decided you would reap the consequences when they made themselves known.

You took a seat on the couch of Sam’s dressing room, crossing your legs and leaning into the arm. Their set finished in five minutes, which was your cue to get moving. In no way were you willing to be caught sneaking into his room by one of his brothers after they got off stage. You checked your phone to see if you had any missed messages, but the screen was blank. You pulled up your camera, checking your hair and makeup to make sure you looked good. You sighed as you clicked your screen shut, tapping your fingers against the leather of the sofa with growing impatience.

The boys has started a small tour, just for about a month, and it was wrapping up in the next week. But, the month had been too long for your liking. It had been weeks since you’d seen Sam, or any of the others, for that matter. They had a show booked for a venue a few cities over from where you were living. You had managed to convince their tour manager, which you’d met a few times in the past, to sneak you in the back door so you could surprise Sam. Guilt was creeping up on you for not telling Danny about your arrival, but you were desperate to see the boy who’d been occupying your mind for weeks on end. You loved your best friend, but Sam had somehow wormed his way into your heart and showed no signs of leaving. He consumed almost every one of your thoughts. He’d been plaguing your phone with messages of missing you, and some rather provocative voice messages and photographs. He was making sure you wouldn’t forget about him. Little did he know, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could. So, you packed up for the weekend when the chance arose, just so you could curb the need for his company for a few more days.

So far, to the best of your knowledge, he had no idea. Before you’d arrived that night, Sam had texted you his daily countdown of how many days were left until he could see you. You were quite confident that you were still in the clear. One thing you hadn’t really thought out was how you were going to leave the venue without anyone knowing you’d been in there. And also, how the hell you were going to sneak in and out of his hotel room. You’d worry about that later, though. All you were concerned with was seeing the boy who’d been occupying your mind every night for weeks on end.

You’d fully intended on telling everyone about your’s and Sam’s new found relationship the night it had begun. Somewhere along the lines, the plan was lost in translation. The sneaking around had become thrilling, to say the least. Pretending to hate each other like usual, but sneaking off to a bathroom to make out, sneaking touches when no one was looking or from under the table, or leaving parties ten minutes after each other to go back to Sam’s place, was kind of hot. Plus, the idea of growing the relationship together first, making sure it would last before announcing it to everyone seemed most logical in your brain. But, above all, you were terrified of hurting Danny by telling him. Realistically, you knew deep down it might hurt him more by hiding it, but you were terrified of being the person to cause him any sort of pain. This had been dragging on for months now, no end in sight.

You were jolted back to reality when you had heard laughing and shuffling from the hallway. You immediately sat up, straightening yourself out. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips, practically vibrating with excitement. You were eager to see his reaction when he came in. When the doorknob twisted, your heart could have exploded. The door pushed open and Sam stepped inside, not noticing you immediately. The door fell shut behind him with a thud. He was glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his neck, shirtless and barefoot. You had to stop yourself from giggling at the sight.

“Great show you put on, Sammy. Think I’d be able to get an autograph?” You asked sweetly. His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment to process what was in front of him.

“Y/n?” He asked, still barely believing you were there. You jumped up, running over to him. He picked you up in a hug, kissing you as if it was the last time he ever would. You didn’t care if he was sweaty, you were just happy you were finally back in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, still holding you. Your legs were wrapped around him, his hands supporting your bum.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you, and I pulled some strings at work.” You whispered, kissing him again. It was soft, but imminent, showing him all the emotion you had pent up since he left. “I missed you so much, Sammy.” You whispered against his lips.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He said, resting his forehead on yours. “Does anyone else know you’re here?” He asked, gently letting you back down to the ground. You shook your head.

“As much as I love everyone else, I just needed to see you.” He understood what you meant, feeling the same way. “I drove here, so maybe I can just sneak out and meet you at your hotel once you get there?” You asked, hopeful. For the first time so far, sneaking around was much less than hot and way more of a pain in the ass.

“I mean, yeah, if you’d like to do that, we can.” He said, brushing some stray hairs from your eyes. “As long as I get to sleep next to you tonight, I’ll be happy.” He admitted. You couldn’t agree more.

“I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t really think it all out too much. Five days just seemed so long.” You laughed, feeling a little dumb.

“That’s okay,” he rushed out “I’m more than happy to see you, trust me.” He let his fingers trail over your jaw, then down your neck and landing his palm on the back of your neck. He pulled you in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last. You could feel the shift in the dynamic before it was even over. “Bathroom, now.” He ordered once he’d pulled away. The sweet side vanished, quickly overpowered by desire.

“Why?” You cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Because you’re going to get in the shower with me, and I’m going to fuck you.” He stated, simply. His eyes showed no hint of joking.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair and makeup. I prettied myself up just for you.” You smirked, knowing your disobedience to the order would get him going. “Don’t you want to appreciate it, first?”

“Oh, I have.” He paused, eyes looking you up and down. “I’m not going to say it again; go to the bathroom and take your clothes off.” He growled. You tilted your head to the side, staying in place, a sweet smile stuck on your lips. You always found it fun to mess with him. He was already tired of waiting for you, his patience never really existing in the first place.

“Make me.” Your cheekiness was quickly brought to a halt when he reached up, taking your throat in his hand. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, still terrified to hurt you in any way. He smiled, admiring the look on your face. He caught your lips in a kiss before tightening his grip slightly.

“I don’t think you want me to have to do that, sweetheart.” He whispered. You gave a nod, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs. “Now get in there and take your fucking clothes off.” You weren’t sure if Sam had normally been dominant in the bedroom, or if it was an extension of your relationship dynamic from almost the entire time you’d known him. Either way, you weren’t complaining.

He let you go, putting a little force behind it as he did so. You stopped yourself from stumbling and turned on your heels quickly, making your way to the bathroom without another word. You wasted no time ridding your clothes from your body, leaning against the counter to wait for him. You heard shuffling in the other room, presumably just Sam straightening some things out before he joined you. Your mind wandered to what he was going to do with you once he got you in the shower. You were out of your mind with anticipation; you had no idea how you went so long without having sex before Sam. Now that you were with him, it was all you wanted to do.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts consume you, reaching a hand down between your legs for some type of satisfaction. You ran your fingers through your wetness, spreading it up to your clit, rubbing small circles. A gasp fell from your lips as you did so, but you couldn’t help but wish it was Sam’s fingers instead. You found yourself lost in the moment, not even noticing when the door opened until you heard someone speak. “You couldn’t even wait for me, princess?” A disapproving tone broke you from your concentration you quickly moved your hand, embarrassed to be caught. Sam moved towards you, now only clad in a pair of boxers. He grabbed your arm, roughly putting your fingers back to where they were before he’d interrupted. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He reminded.

You watched him, cheeks flushed, trying to process what he was saying. His jaw was hard set, clearly worked up himself. Slowly, you returned to touching yourself, waiting for his approval. He took a step back, allowing himself full view. His breath caught in his throat. “Get up on the counter.” He demanded. You did as you were told without question, placing your hands on the cool surface and hoisting yourself up. You watched him watch you, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It had been far too long since he’d seen you like this. You placed your hands between your legs once more, but feeling a bit nervous being on display. “Don’t be shy, baby.” He said, reaching out and spreading your legs for you. “You wouldn’t have been touching yourself in here if you didn’t want me to catch you.” He said. Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. “Am I wrong?” You shook your head ‘no’. Although it wasn’t your original intent, a small part of you definitely wanted him to walk in on you. “Use your words.” He demanded.

“No, Sammy.” You said softly, feeling the anxiety slipping away.

“That’s what I thought.” His voice was gravelly. You could tell by his tone he was trying not to take you right there, but he was a bit too cocky to give in so quickly. “Get yourself off.” He ordered.

“Sam-“ you began to protest, but he cut you off.

“Shut up.” He snapped. You stopped, immediately scared that he wouldn’t allow you an orgasm at all. I said, get yourself off.” His hand was still on your knee. Although his tone was harsh, the loving circles he’d been tracing into your skin assured you it was an act. “Then, I’ll make you cum.” He assured you. “I just want to see how you did it while I was gone. Did you think of me?”

“Mmhmm.” You mumbled softly, picking up the pace in which you were rubbing yourself. “Wished it was you every time.” You mumbled.

“Oh so it was more than once?” Arrogance was radiating from him, but you couldn’t help but watch him with nothing but admiration. “Answer me, beautiful.” He said palming himself through his boxers.

“All of the time.” You answered truthfully. You let in a sharp inhale, feeling yourself getting close to your climax.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.” He admitted, hand trailing up your bare thigh. You could tell he was struggling not to touch you.

“You gonna show me how much you missed me, Sammy?” You wanted to put on a show for him, hooking your leg around his waist and pulling him closer to you. He let out a groan at your actions, tightening his fingers around your leg. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m going to do.” He spat, still rubbing himself, trying to get some relief. “Just worry about you. I’m getting impatient. If you don’t hurry up you may not get to cum at all.” You did as he said, quickening your pace and adding your fingers to the mix with your unoccupied hand. “That’s it, gorgeous.” He sighed, his eyes focused on your cunt. With the added stimulation of your other hand, you were painfully close to your climax. You threw your head back, closing your eyes and letting out a moan. Sam acted fast, grabbing your face in his hand and forcing your head back down. “Look at me. I want to watch you.” The statement caused your hands to stutter.

With his eyes locked on yours, gaze unwavering, you gave into the pleasure. Your orgasm hit you hard, way harder than it had in the past weeks. His eyes hardened, scared if he looked away from you, you’d disappear. Your own eyes rolled back in your head as you rode the high, desperate for air. “S-sammy!” You stuttered, almost as if you were praying to him.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, bringing your lips to his. He was painfully hard, already planning on getting you right off the counter into the shower. When he pulled away, you removed your hands from yourself, to which he immediately replaced them with his own. A strangled cry came from your mouth as his calloused fingertips brushed over your overly sensitive clit, but he didn’t stop.

“Sam, please,” you pleaded, trying to push his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re fine.” And he was right, you were. After a few moments of unbearable sensitivity, the euphoric feeling had hit you ten times harder. You were practically screaming your noises of pleasure, only fuelling him further. “Come on, princess.” He whispered, working his fingers into you. “I want you to cum like that for me.” And you did, clenching around his hand while crying his name. Tears were welling in your eyes as your legs shook, hips locked in a solid position. Your throat was hoarse, and you were sure the entire venue would have heard you if not for the concrete walls.

Just when you thought he would coddle you, maybe pull you in for a kiss, he removed himself from you completely. He walked to the shower, flicking the tap on. He threw his boxers away hastily and returned to your side. He didn’t utter a word as he picked you up. “Legs around me, now.” He ordered. You did as best you could to obey, barely being in the conscious mind. He stepped into the shower, still holding you, and pressed your back against the wall. The cool tile felt nice on your warm skin. He supported you with one hand while lining himself up with you with his other. He pulled you down on him, eliciting a groan from you. “Fuck I missed you,” he muttered, withdrawing his hips slightly and pushing himself back in. He stayed slow in that position, wanting to enjoy being close to you again without getting too intense. His head was buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings while he sucked and bit marks into your skin.

“I love you, Sammy.” You mumbled, so fucked out you were barely aware of what you were saying. He paused his movement entirely, pulling his head away from you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ you rushed out, finally coming to your senses. When he dropped you to your feet, your stomach churned with anxiety. He didn’t say a word, but watched you meticulously. You were starting to panic, tears rushing to your eyes. “I’ll just… I’m gonna g-go.” You excused yourself, making a move to get out of the shower. He grabbed your waist, his fingers searing into your skin. He pushed you against the wall of the shower so your chest was flush, but pulled your hips back towards him.

“Say it again.” He barked, his hand now gripping your shoulder. He lined himself back up with you.

“What?” You questioned, unsure of what was going on.

“Fucking say it again.” He hissed.

“I- I love you, Sam.” You said with more certainty. He pushed himself into you, moving his hand to your hip. The steam from the heat of the shower was filling your senses, sending you back into euphoria as he started to fuck you again.

“Again.” He pleaded, all tones of assertion gone, replaced with a touch of desperation.

“I love you, Sammy.” You repeated, confident this time. His hips sped, pushing your face into the tile with every thrust. Something had taken over him, he was more animalistic with you than he’d ever been. You were driving him crazy by saying it. He leaned down, leaving love bites all over your shoulders, gripping you so hard you were sure he’d leave bruises. You let out a blissful moan as he hit your g-spot. He continued on at that angle, loving the noises you’d been making for him.

A knock sounded at the door just as you were both reaching your peak. You expected him to pull out, or at least slow down, but he continued on. “Brother?” Someone called out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?” Sam yelled back, voice unfaltering.

“You okay, man? You’ve been in there for a while. We’re getting ready to head to the bar.” You could recognize the voice as Josh’s. You had been trying to stay as silent as possible, but Sam did not make it easy. He’d slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers dancing over your already abused clit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t feel too good, don’t know what hit me.” He lied so effortlessly that even you could have believed him if not for him being inside of you.

“Oh, okay, man. You think you’re gonna join us? Should we wait up?” He questioned. A whimper fell from your lips as he had hit the perfect spot. His free hand clamped around your mouth.

“No, you guys can go. I’ll be done here soon, then I’ll probably go to the hotel and call it an early night.” You couldn’t understand how his voice was so steady. You chalked it up to him singing and talking while he jumped around on stage.

“Okay, text us if you change your mind and we’ll let you know where we are.” Josh yelled.

“Will do!” Sam answered. He waited a moment until he heard the bang of the main door shutting, then he removed his hand from your mouth.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” You whispered, still scared Josh would overhear you.

“You certainly weren’t complaining.” He muttered, slamming his hips back into you. You let out a gasp. “Actually, I think you’re gonna cum.” He said, smugly. He was correct. Damn him for knowing your body too well. He swirled his fingers over your clit a few more times before you unravelled, slurring out profanities. “That’s it, baby.” Sam groaned, not far behind you. “Tell me you love me again.” He ordered once you can down from your high.

“I love you.” You said softly, no tone of arrogance or anything other than honesty. He took a sharp intake of breath and reached his own orgasm, moaning your name and pulling you back down on him as it happened. He rested in you for a moment, just basking in the closeness. Eventually, he withdrew and you turned to face him.

“I love you, too, baby.” He said, eyes drooping with exhaustion. You couldn’t help but smile at the confession. “I love you so much.” He sighed, pulling your chin up so he could lean down to kiss you. “We seem to have a thing for fucking in bathrooms, though.” He stated once you broke apart. You both laughed at the statement.

You finished your shower with him, both of you slipping out and wrapping yourselves in towels. You dried off and picked up your clothes, making a move to go back to the main room. He followed closely behind, not wanting you to leave his sight. When you dropped your towel, he gave your ass a smack. You jumped in surprise, letting out a giggle. He went over to his bag and grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants, tossing them in your direction. “Here, if you’d like to leave undetected.” He smiled. You nodded, slipping on the bottoms. You had to cuff the sweatpants quite a few times and tie the drawstrings, but you made it work. You threw his hoodie on, leaving the hood up.

You revelled in the confines of the sweater, breathing in the scent. It smelled just like him and it warmed your heart. “You look good in my clothes.” He said, pulling on another pair of his pants. That was one thing you had to laugh at, Sam packed a bag like a middle aged woman on vacation; two outfits for every occasion. He grabbed his wallet from a pile of his things and opened it, pulling out a hotel keycard. “I got two at check in, cause I always end up losing one.” He chuckled. “Guess it really came in handy, this time.” He handed it to you. “The room number’s written on it too.” You slipped it in your pocket.

“Guess so, baby.” You said, giving him a smile. He leaned down to place another kiss to your lips. You held him there for a moment, never wanting to lose the feeling. When you pulled away, you let your hand rest on his cheek. “I’m gonna head out, try and avoid everyone.” You informed him.

“Sure,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “I’ll be there soon. Be safe.”

“I will, Sammy.” You said, making your way to the door. “Oh, uh, can you bring my clothes back with you?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed at your earlier interaction. A blush rose to your cheeks. He laughed at you, nodding his head at your request.

“Of course.” He followed you as you left, leaning against the doorway as you walked out. He watched you make your way to the exit, smiling to himself.

“Hey, who’s that?” A voice sounded from beside him. Sam looked to see Danny standing, watching you walk away, too.

“Oh, uh, just some chick from the front row.” Sam brushed it off. “Asked security to pull her back here before she left.” He lied quickly, trying to cover his own ass.

“Ah, I see,” Danny said. “And you let her take your clothes home?”

“Yeah, just old shit anyway. Figured I’d never miss it.”

“Uh huh,” Danny paused, knowing that the clothes in question were some of his favourites. “And how do you think y/n would feel if she found out you were fucking groupies?” Sam nearly choked on his breath, whipping his head to look at Danny.

“What?” He asked, in disbelief.

“Come on, man. We all know. You think you guys are being sneaky, but we know you both way too well.” He chuckled. “Just wish you guys would have told me, you know?” He said before he walked off.

“Wait, Danny!” Sam called to him, but he wasn’t turning around.

“Also, you guys are obnoxiously loud.” He said before disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck,” Sam muttered to himself, turning on his heels and walking back into his room.

•

You pushed through the door of the hotel, taking in the sight of the front lobby. It was beautiful. You didn’t have too much experience with hotels, or travel. Your parents were quite poor growing up, and you never really broke the curse as you grew into adulthood. Hotels and anything of the sort, no matter if they were five star or not, were quite luxurious to you. The lady at the front desk gave you a warm smile as you passed by. You mumbled a hello, returning her gesture. You went directly to the elevator, pressing the button to go upstairs. The doors swung open, inviting you inside.

You looked at the paper holder containing the keycard, seeing the room number written messily on the outside of it. You clicked the floor number and waited. You laughed at the messy penmanship; Sam could be so forgetful by times. Luckily, this time around, it really worked in your favour. The ding of the elevator broke you from your thoughts. The doors parted and you stepped into the hallway. Your legs carried you down the hall, eyes scanning the bold black numbers labelling the rooms.

You landed in front of the room that matched the number on the card, swiping the key in front of the sensor. The electronic lock clicked open and you stepped inside. Upon first inspection, it was so blatantly clear that this was Sam’s room. His cologne was still present in the air from before he’d left for the venue, a towel was left on the bathroom floor, and a few different outfits were strewn on the bed. The blankets were messy and the pillows were all over the mattress. You smiled to yourself, dropping your bag by the T.V. stand and immediately crawling in the mess of pillows, pulling the blanket over you. The pillowcase smelled like Sam’s shampoo, inviting you in and lulling you to sleep. It had been far too long since you fell asleep surrounded by him.

Without even realizing it, you drifted off into a slumber more peaceful than any you’d had while he was away.

About thirty minutes later, Sam was unlocking the door himself and making his way inside. He dropped his own bag by the door, kicking off his shoes. When he looked to the bed, his heart melted at the sight of you. He walked over, carefully sitting on the bed beside you. He ran a hand through your still damp hair, gently brushing out any knots. As you began to stir, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. You let out a small groan, slowly coming back to life. You stretched out your legs, taking in a large breath as your eyes fluttered open. “Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Sam said softly, hand still tangled in your hair. “Have a good nap?” You couldn’t help but smile. It had felt like an eternity since you’d woken up next to him.

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” You whispered.

“Good thing I’m here now, then.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he should tell you about his interaction with Danny earlier, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the reunion. He knew he’d have to eventually, but right now just didn’t seem like the time for it. You opened your arms, reaching out for him to lay beside you. “Just a second.” He promised, standing up. He took off his shirt leaving himself just in his sweatpants. You watched him, silently admiring him as he moved. You made a move to take your pants off, wanting as much closeness with him as you could get. You tossed them onto the floor beside you, scooting over a bit to give him some more room to climb in.

He picked up the comforter, sliding in next to you and wasting no time pulling you to his chest. The warmth of his body immediately relaxed you. “I know I already said it, but I missed you, Sammy.” You mumbled, eyes closing once more.

“I missed you too, baby.” He said, his hand snaking under your far too large sweatshirt, caressing the skin on your hip. “I promise I’ll take you out on a date when we get home, I just want to be here with you tonight. I want you all to myself.” He admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed. You both sat in silence for a moment, not moving, just soaking up each others company. Eventually, he pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs. Your head rested on his stomach, your arms brought to your chest, curling the blanket up to your chin. He played with the ends of your hair, letting the locks fall through his long fingers.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier?” He asked.

“Which part?” You asked for clarification.

“That you loved me.” His hands worked their way up to your scalp, gently massaging it. You let out a hum of pleasure at the feeling.

“Yeah, I did, Sammy.” You whispered, your own hand now moving to his stomach, tickling his skin with your fingertips. The muscles in his abdomen flexed at the contact, causing a small giggle to fall from you. “Of course I did.” You added. “I was scared that it was too soon, you looked almost… mad when I said it. But I meant it.” He laughed quietly at your words, finding it ridiculous that you thought he’d be mad at you.

“I wasn’t mad, y/n. Shocked, yeah, for sure. I wasn’t expecting you to say it.” He admitted. “But I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day I met you. If that was the only thing you said to me for the rest of my life, I’d be happy.” His hand that wasn’t knotted in your hair came down on top of yours, lacing your fingers together. “Why would you think I’d be mad at you?” He whispered now, gentle with his tone. You stayed silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer him.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just so used to my past boyfriends being mad at me all of the time. I suppose it’s just in my nature to expect you to be mad, or assume I did something wrong.” You confessed. His heart leapt at the use of the word boyfriend. That had not been discussed yet, but he certainly didn’t mind the sound of it. On the other hand, he was curious. He’d never heard you talk much about your former partners.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He didn’t want to pry, but he did want to know more. He gave you the option to tell him or not.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You sighed. “Not much of a story, I guess. I’ve only had one other boyfriend. He was a dick. I dated him all through high school and moved in with him after graduation. He was mean and I didn’t know that it wasn’t how I should be treated. I didn’t know anything else.” A frown encased his lips. “He never let me go out, or have any friends. He wanted me to do anything he wanted whenever he wanted it. He always wanted to fight with me and according to him, I could never do anything right. That’s how I met Danny, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Sam never actually got close enough with you to know much about you in the beginning. He knew you were beautiful, funny and kind. He knew you adored Danny, but not why. He knew enough to fall for you, but he really wanted to know you, now. He wanted the little things constantly stored in the back of his head so he could use them as needed. He wanted to know what made you, you.

“After a particularly bad fight, I went to a bar to get some cheap liquor.” You laughed at the memory. “I’m not sure why, but it seemed right at the time. I barely drank back then. But Danny showed up, he was just finishing up with you guys at the studio. He sat beside me and bought some god-awful looking beer.” You shuddered at the thought. No matter how hard Danny tried to convince you it was good, you couldn’t stand the taste of it. “He introduced himself and noticed I’d been crying. He talked to me all night, wanting to know everything about me. It was the first time I’d ever felt…” you pondered for the right word. “Seen.” You finished. “He was the only person in my life by that point, who’d ever cared enough about me to want to know everything. And he barely knew me.” You had to laugh.

Sam felt a rush of jealousy flood through him, but he pushed it aside. “He offered me a place to stay because my boyfriend at the time told me to get out, and that he never wanted to see me again. You know why?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled, still listening intently.

“A male coworker sent me a friend request on Facebook.” You whispered. “It was bound to happen eventually, and I had an apartment lined up just in case. Things had been really bad for a while. But he just kicked me out, he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Just opened the door for me like I’d meant nothing to him for six years.”

“That’s terrible, y/n.” Sam consoled you, pulling you closer to him as he spoke. ‘I’d never do that to you.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, but I never would’ve ended up here if it didn’t happen.” You reminded him. “But Danny came with me as backup to get my shit from his house. He helped me move into the apartment I live in now. We got wine drunk together and the rest was history. He didn’t care that I was broken. He didn’t care that I had no idea how to make friends, because I was never allowed to have them. Just wanted to be with me.” You shrugged. Sam tried his best to just hear your words rather than think about how Danny felt about you, but he was struggling. “You know, I prayed for months that something would happen, anything to make life better. And he showed up that night. Just waltzed in and changed everything in an instant.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Sam couldn’t help it. The jealousy was surging through him. He wanted to listen to you talk, but his heart was breaking at the words you were saying. You lifted your head to look at him, noticing the expression of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do, Sam.” You were honest. “But it’s never been like that for me.” His body relaxed slightly. “Danny was always meant to be my best friend. He’s been the person I looked for my whole life. Someone to do stupid shit with, to make memories, to be my kids godparent, I love him more than anything, but I’m not in love with him, Sammy.”

“I’m sorry, I know that. I just… yeah.” He muttered. “I just get nervous, I guess. I know how he feels about you. I know how much he cares for you, and you for him. It’s hard to think that he could steal you away at any given moment.” He laughed quietly, more to himself. “You know, it would’ve made so much more sense if you ended up with him. He deserves you way more than I do.” He said, guilt seeping through his pores.

“It was never a matter of ‘deserving’ anything. If I wanted to be with Danny, I would be. I’m in love with you, and I always knew it would end up like this. The minute I met you… it was like all of the bullshit from the past didn’t matter. The pain from the last relationship didn’t hurt, because it brought me to you. It made it all make sense, you know?” You sighed, fingers still dancing with his. “I know we treated each other like shit for a long time, but I always knew. From the minute I saw you, I wanted to love you, to be in love with you. I wanted this, exactly what we’re doing right now.” His heart drummed against his ribs, threatening to break them. He couldn’t believe how much you affected him.

“Me too, baby.” He sighed. “All I want to do is love you; I’m sorry that I was an asshole for so long.” You sat up, moving around to sit on him. You straddled his waist, pulling his face in your hands and running your thumb over his cheek.

“We’re here now, aren’t we? Isn’t that what matters?” He smiled at your words, putting his hands on your hips.

“I guess so.” He agreed, catching your lips in a kiss. “I’m so lucky to be able to love you.” He breathed as you parted ways. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you; I want to make sure that you know how you deserve to be loved. I hope I can do it properly.”

The sentiment of his words hung over the room like a cloud of serenity. You two enjoyed the alone time, rolling around in the bed, sharing kisses and laughs. You played music softly in the background, singing along to songs that had no meaning to you until that night. The evening dwindled by too quickly for either of your liking, slipping into the late hours of the night and eventually to the earliest ones of the morning. You wanted to live in that moment forever, where nothing was wrong and it was just the two of you making up for lost time. Sam made it so easy to fall for him, with his sweet words, loving touches and fantastic sex. He treated you better than you ever could have imagined a partner doing. The months of romance felt like an eternity; you felt like you’d known him like this your whole life.

Eventually, exhaustion enveloped the two of you and the music that was once fuelling your energy turned into lullabies. Sam was on his side, facing you with his arm draped over your bare torso. Somewhere in the events of the night, you both had ended up naked, but not resulting in a sexual motive. The intimacy of being completely exposed with no intent of sex was beautiful. It was just the two of you seeing each other completely, loving each other fully. Your eyes were drooping, barely being able to hold them open. His were similar, but he was forcing himself to stay awake so he didn’t miss a second of admiring you. His eyes on you, holding so much emotion behind them, felt like pure bliss. Being appreciated by Sam was the greatest feeling you’d ever experienced.

“I love you, princess.” He whispered, voice laced with sleep. “So much.”

“I love you, Sammy.” You said, the words coming straight from your heart. You were sure that you both had said it a million times that night alone, but the novelty of the phrase was too exiting to stop. Finally, the proclamation of emotion you’d both been feeling for so long was in the air, accepted and desired.

“I’m gonna take you to breakfast in the morning, before you have to go. Just me and you.” He promised. You smiled at his words but your chest ached at the realization you’d have to leave him again the next day. Although the time between now and seeing him next was much shorter than the one previous, you didn’t want to be away from him at all.

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” You laughed at him, barely awake and still trying to hold a conversation. You had both closed your eyes, finally giving your bodies a chance to rest, just minutes away from sleep. He pulled you closer to him, your head quickly finding its way to the crook of his neck. You drifted to sleep to the scent of him, finally feeling at home.

•

A violent knock on the door shook you both from your slumber. Neither of you had moved from the position you’d fallen asleep in. You both ignored the first knock, figuring it was one of the boys coming back drunk and wanting to chat. “Go back to sleep, baby.” Sam mumbled, clearly not caring about who was looking for him. You tried to do as he said, but another burst of loud knocking pried your eyes back open.

“Sam, open the fucking door!” You were upright now, immediately recognizing Danny’s voice. Sam groaned, reaching out for his phone.

“It’s 4 in the morning, man, go to bed! We can talk tomorrow!” He shot back.

“I know she’s in there, Sam. I just want to talk to her.” Danny pleaded. You could tell he was plastered. You could hear it in his voice. Your heart was racing, panic encased on your features. Sam gave a look to you as if to say it was okay. He rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants as you searched wildly for clothes for yourself. You threw on the clothes Sam had given you earlier, crawling back in the bed and hoping that Sam could convince Danny to go back to his room. Sam wanted that, too, hoping you would just talk to him in the morning, when you were both sober and in the right state of mind.

Sam shuffled to the door. You heard him open it a crack before speaking again. “Just go to bed, Danny. You’re hammered.” Sam sighed, trying to reason with him.

“You’ve both been avoiding me for months and lying to my face the whole time. I’m done. I’m sick of waiting for you to decide to tell me the truth.” Danny snapped. Your stomach twisted in a knot, palms breaking out into a sweat. He knew. He’s known all along.

“Hey, stop, man. It’s okay. We can talk in the morning.” Sam muttered, obviously still half asleep. You didn’t understand how he was so calm about the whole thing. Sam made a move to try and shut the door, but Danny pushed it open again, not done with the conversation.

“Just let me talk to her, please.” Danny said again. “I know she’s in there. I saw her car outside.” Danny was pushing back on the door as Sam tried to hold it closed. “You can’t keep my best friend from me.” Something in Sam snapped at his territorial marking, not liking it in the slightest.

“Okay, fine, in the morning!” Sam was losing his patience. “I’m not letting you talk to her while you’re drunk and pissed off.” Sam was being overly protective, not willing to budge from him stance.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her, asshole.” Danny argued. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I have to talk to her.” With a final push, Danny got the door open and stepped in the room. Sam sighed, stepping down and out of his way. Danny walked in, his eyes immediately landing on you. He stared for a moment, watching you sitting in Sam’s bed, wearing his clothes, looking scared. He felt a wave of hurt enveloping him. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten his answer already. He already knew what he would find, but he was hoping he was wrong.

“Danny,” you started, but he’d already turned to walk back out. Your heart shattered, but you pushed it to the side. You were not the one that should be upset in the situation. You jumped out of the bed, following after him. Just as he was rounding the corner into the hallway, Sam grabbed your wrist to stop you from following. “Let go, Sam.” You warned.

“Y/n, just wait until the morning. We’ve waited this long, we can wait one more day.” He begged.

“That’s the problem! We never should have waited this long to begin with!” You cried, still trying to shake yourself from his grip. “We lied to him. I hurt him. I’m still hurting him!”

“This isn’t a good idea, you’re both upset-“

“We’re going to be upset either way! I need to make it right with him before it’s too late. He’s my whole world, Sam.” You pleaded with him. Sam’s eyes darkened at your statement, once again feeling that pain he’d felt walking into Danny’s apartment the year before.

“What about me, y/n? Am I not part of that world, too?” He said, hurt dripping off of his words.

“What? Of course you are Sam, what do you mean?” You scoffed.

“I mean exactly what I said. This is just like it was in the beginning. No matter how many times we fuck, or how many times you say you love me, he’ll always come first, right?” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but found no words coming out. “That’s what I thought.” Sam rolled his eyes. “You wanna go talk to him? Fine by me.” He dropped your wrist. “It doesn’t matter what I think, anyway.”

“You’re jealous now, of all of the times you could’ve been jealous? We did something to hurt him and you’re pissed off because I want to make it right?”

“No, I’m pissed off because it seems like I was right the whole time. You may not have been fucking him, y/n, but he will always be the most important person to you. He says jump and you’ll do it, no matter how high. No matter who’s begging you not to.”

“Sam you’re being ridiculous.” You scowled, feeling the months of hatred and vicious words coming back.

“It’s four in the morning, y/n. He shows up drunk and wakes us up, barges in here and doesn’t even say a word to you, and you’re chasing after him. Im asking you to stay. I am begging you to at least wait until the morning, when he’s not drunk and you’re in your right mind, but you refuse to see that maybe that’s the most logical thing because like I said a million times before, he comes first, before anyone else. It. Will. Always. Be. Him.” He annunciated his words so harshly that it caused your blood to boil.

You couldn’t believe that after everything you’d told Sam, every memory and sweet word over the last few months, everything that you’d professed to him that night alone, he could throw this out the window so easily. Tears welled in your eyes, begging to be shed. You loved Sam, but he always seemed to be the one to know exactly how to break your heart. You thought that he’d changed, that him being an asshole was just one big misunderstanding, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sam would never change, no matter how much you hoped he would. “I’m not fighting with you over this, Sam. Not again.” You said, completely defeated. “I could go into the next room and spit on him, even kick him in the face and you’d still try and argue that I’m in love with him. You didn’t believe me when I told you the million other times, and you never will. I’m done fighting.” Your voice broke.

“If you leave,” he paused, eyes angry but you could tell it was covering sadness. “If you run out there after him, I’m done, y/n. I can’t always feel like I’m in second place.”

“That’s your problem, Sam. You’re trying to beat him in a race, but you guys aren’t even competing in the same one.” You took a step towards the hallway. “Oh, and if you’re genuinely giving me an ultimatum, whatever this is, ends here. Because if you make me choose, I will never forgive you.” You said, back turned to him now. You couldn’t see it, but a tear fell down his cheek, too. He didn’t answer, just watched you teeter between the hallway and his hotel room, hoping you’d turn back towards him.

“You say that because you know you’d choose him.”

“If you make me stay, we’re done.” You whispered.

“I guess we’re in stalemate, then.” He replied. You closed your eyes, praying he’d say something else, that he would change his mind. Instead, you were met with silence. You looked back at him over your shoulder, wanting to see him one last time before you made up your mind. The sadness in his features implored you to stay, to hold him and tell him you only ever wanted to love him, but the anger towards him that was brewing in your chest was overwhelming. “Please, y/n, come back to bed with me.” He tried one last time. You checked to make sure you’d slipped your phone and your car keys in your pocket when you got up, relieved when you found that you did.

“I love you, Sammy.” You whispered. His eyes glistened with hope, thinking that maybe you were going to stay. As soon as he’d let himself feel it, it was quickly shattered. You had stepped into the hallway and slammed his door shut, not even waiting for him to say it back. He stood, staring at the doorway where you’d been standing just seconds before, not knowing where to go from there.

Don’t worry!! It doesn’t end here, there will be a part three! 🫶🏻

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