#i know they are super cringe at parts but I loved them

[multi-fandom-things730]

Singin’ In The Rain

Summary: When Will overhears Don Callis harassing a beautiful woman, he can’t help but stop and help her. But when Callis hears Will call her love, it sets off a chain reaction no one could have anticipated.

Warnings: mob au, talk of violence, angst, threats, fighting, fluff, love at first sight ish?, they’re both smitten, this is not a slow burn

A/N: I’m super excited to share my first Will fic!!!! I hope you all love and enjoy. There will definitely be a part two, but fair warning, it’ll be slow to come out😂 thank you so much to @madhatterbri for helping me out, and getting me obsessed with Will😂💚 and @hotgirlgraps , hopefully this fuels your growing appreciation for Will😂🫶

Y/N pressed play on her playlist, and as Singin' in the Rain filled her cafe she let a comfortable smile rest on her lips.

She walked to the door to flip the open sign on, and couldn't help but laugh as she saw one of her regulars waiting.

She opened the door to greet the old man happily. "Good morning Mr.Emerson"

"Morning Y/N" he smiled back, walking in as she held the door for him.

Y/N bounced back to behind the counter. "Would you like the usual?"

"You know it" the old man nods.

She grabs a bag with two cinnamon rolls she had already packaged and holds them out to him. "Here's these to snack on while I make your tea"

He laughs and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

"Mr.Emerson" Y/N chides playfully. "I tell you everyday, that is not necessary. You've been here almost everyday since I opened"

"I don't argue, do I?" He teases.

"No" Y/N laughs. "Because you put it in the tip jar instead"

"You deserve it hon" He replies, putting the bills into the yellow jar.

Y/N smiles, warmth filling her chest from the sweet man. "Well, thank you, Mr.Emerson. Your tea will be right out"

The man nods, and sits down in his usual cushioned seat by the window to people-watch.

Y/N hummed along to the music softly playing as she made his honey tea.

She poured it into a light green cup with a matching saucer before picking it up, and walking around the counter to bring it to him.

"Here you go" she smiles.

"Thank you" he smiles.

She nods before retreating to the counter. Mr.Emerson was always the best part of her day. He started coming as soon as it opened 3 years ago, and had come almost every single morning since.

She had formed relationships with many people from the community since opening, some sweet like Mr.Emerson.

And some are not quite as sweet.

And that rang true when she heard the bell ring, and looked up to see none other than Don Callis parade inside with Hobbs close behind him.

Y/N didn't mind Hobbs, she knew him before he had joined the Callis family and they got along well.

But she knew to steer clear of Callis, she had been told that by Taz Senerchia himself.

She had grown up next door to the Senerchias, and was very close with them.

Taz always made sure to look out for her, even sending men to watch over her when situations got tense.

Everyone knew her association with Taz, he made sure of it. As one of the most powerful mob leaders in the city, he wanted it known that no one should ever put their hands on Y/N or her store.

She was thankful for this, but it made it awkward when members of other mobs came in. Especially other leaders.

"Y/N, dear!" Callis greets, a deceptive smile on his face.

"Good morning" Y/N nods to him. "Mornin' Hobbs"

Hobbs nods and sends a small smile back to her.

She takes their orders, and silently starts making their drinks as Callis stares her down.

Y/N does her best to avoid any eye contact with him, and cringes when he speaks again.

"So Y/N, I heard Taz has been looking to make some expansions in his business"

"I wouldn't know anything about that" Y/N answers stiffly, but worry begins building in her gut.

She kneels down behind the counter like she has to grab something. But she instead quickly pulls her phone out of her apron pocket and sends Hook, Taz's son, a message that Callis is there asking questions.

Callis leans against the counter, watching her like a hawk as she stands back up. "Oh, come on now. We both know that's not true. They must have mentioned something over family dinner"

"I'm not involved with anything Taz has going on. You know that" Y/N insists through gritted teeth.

"I know you’d parents were-" Callis is cut off by the bell on the door ringing, and Y/N couldn't be more thankful.

She looked up, but froze when she saw who waltzed in.

"Ospreay" Callis practically growls at the smiling man.

"Hello" Will grins nonchalantly.

Y/N had never properly met Will. She'd seen him once or twice leaving Taz's after a meeting, or at a gala she accompanied Hook to so he didn't have to bother finding a date, but they'd never spoken.

"Why don't you boys just get your drinks and not bother the pretty lady?" Will asks charmingly, before sending a dazzling smile to Y/N. "Morning love"

"Good morning" she mumbles softly, heat rushing to her cheeks as she finishes up the drinks.

"Thank you, have a nice day" Y/N says. She hands them their coffees and Callis immediately stomps out.

Hobbs sends her a parting smile before following quickly behind.

"Sorry about all the fuss" Will apologizes with a sheepish smile.

But Y/N shakes her head. "No, thank you! I don't think they would have left me alone if it wasn't for you"

That makes Will grin, and puff his chest out a little with pride. "Always happy to help"

"Well" Y/N takes a deep breath, regrouping from the whirlwind of emotions that she just had. "Would you like some breakfast for your troubles?"

"It was no trouble at all" Will insists. "But some breakfast does sound quite nice. What would you suggest darling?"

Y/N blushes again, and Will can't stop the proud and goofy smile that grows on his face at seeing her cheeks turn pink.

"The um, the chai is my favorite. I make mine with oat milk. But the milk tea is another really good one. And there's a lot of different coffees if you're not a tea person" Y/N rambles.

"I'll take a chai love. And a slice of that banana bread too please, it looks amazing" Will orders.

"Coming right up" Y/N happily turns to start his order.

“Lovely song” Will notes after hearing her humming along.

Y/N grins at him over her shoulder. “It’s one of my favorites. The movie too. Singing in the rain is a classic”

“I haven’t seen it. Maybe we could watch it together sometime?”

But then the door busts open, and Will whips around. His friendly posture quickly changes to defensive and strong, but he relaxes when he sees Hook running in.

"Where are they?" Hook asks urgently, rushing behind the counter and over to Y/N.

"They're gone" Y/N immediately answers, placing her hands on his arms as he scans her for any injuries.

He cups her face with his hands and stares into her eyes. "They didn't touch you, did they? I'll kill them" he growls.

"No, I'm completely fine Tyler" Y/N comforts with a soft smile. She brushes some hair out of his eyes as she speaks. "They were just asking questions. And then Mr.Ospreay got them to leave"

"No need for Mr., darling" Will grins. "Just call me Will"

Hook's eyes snap over to Will, and his arms move to be wrapped around Y/N's waist. "Why are you here Ospreay? You starting stuff with Callis in her shop?" His eyes narrow dangerously.

Will raises his hands in surrender. "I didn't mean to cause anything Hook"

"I won't tolerate you bringing issues around her, and neither will my dad" Hook threatens, his grip on Y/N tightening defensively.

"I just saw them bothering her and wanted to help. That's all" Will assures.

"He didn't do anything Tyler, I promise" Y/N insists. "They wouldn't have left if it wasn't for him"

Hook looks down at her, and only to her would he let his hard eyes show a little worry. "But now they may think you're involved with him somehow. They could come around here more often to look for him. They have a personal vendetta against him"

Will wants to object, but he really couldn't. He hadn't thought about that before he interrupted. If Callis thinks he cares for Y/N, he wouldn't be above coming after her. He wouldn't hesitate. "I didn't mean to start any trouble, Hook, honestly. I didn't think about it like that"

"No, you didn't!" He snaps, letting Y/N go and circling the counter. "From what I hear you don't think through much! Callis will go after anyone he thinks is associated with you!"

"Tyler!" Y/N exclaims, making both men look over at her. "Stop causing a scene in my cafe!"

Hook huffs, before doing as told and taking a step back from Will. He crosses his arms and leans against the counter while glaring at Will.

"It was just one interaction" Y/N says. "We don't know that Callis will think anything of it. I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself"

Y/N woke up that night to a crash.

She jumped up and looked around as her basset hound, who was soundly asleep by her feet, growled.

"What is it, Charles?" She nervously asks, before fishing around in her bedside table's drawer for her taser that Taz had gifted her.

She walks out of her room with Charles trailing behind, and peaks around the corner to her living room.

She doesn't see a person, but there's a brick lying on the floor along with shattered class from her window that was now busted.

She approaches the brick, and her eyes widen when she sees a note wrapped around it.

She picks it up, and she can feel her heart practically beating out of her chest at the words.

Your little boyfriend will agree to our terms, or we will be back

Y/N paced back and forth as she stood in her cafe the next morning.

She was terrified that Callis would show up, and at first, she wasn't even going to open today and instead run right to Taz and tell him what happened.

But then she realized it would cause a war between the Senerchias and Callis, and she didn't want to put them through that just for her.

But on the other hand, she didn't know how she could keep this a secret from them.

As all the nerves screamed in her head, there was one person she had no doubt she needed to inform.

So here she was, glancing up anxiously every time someone walked by, hoping Will would show up so she could talk to him.

And at 11 o'clock he finally walked in with that same handsome smile. "Morning love!"

Y/N walked around the counter and practically ran over to him. "I need to talk to you"

"About?" Will asks slowly, watching her turn off the open sign.

"This" She pulls the note out of the pocket on her apron and shoves it into his chest before grabbing his hand and pulling him to the back.

He read the note as she led him up the stairs to her apartment, which was above the cafe.

He felt a cold chill run through his body at the words. He never intended to get her wrapped up in any of this, he simply wanted to flirt with a pretty woman. "I... I am so sorry"

"It's.." Y/N trails off, staring down at her carpet. "It's okay Will.."

"No, it isn't" he insists. "I never meant to put you in any danger"

"I'm used to being in danger" She answers softly.

Will just looks over at the broken window, his frown resembling a kicked puppy.

Y/N felt sadness forming in her chest at his face. "I know you didn't mean to cause any of this Will"

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect you" he pledges. "Anything it takes to keep you safe. Have you told Taz?"

Y/N shakes her head. "I almost did. But I don't want him to start a war with Callis over me. I thought you may know what I should do"

"I do" he nods. "The fewer people who know this the better. Callis must see you as the perfect target. He's been making moves into Taz's territory recently, and he hates me"

Y/N nods softly, as fear takes root throughout her body.

Will sees her stiffen, and her breathing starts picking up as the reality of this situation becomes clearer to her. "Hey, hey, hey, it'll be okay"

"Will it?" She breathes out. "What if he gets to me? I- I've heard what he's capable of. Wh-What he's done to people-"

"Listen to me love" Will coaxes her to sit down on the couch, and he kneels in front of her, placing his hands on her knees and looking her in the eye. "I am going to keep you safe. I caused this, and I'm going to fix it"

Y/N nods silently, looking at Will through the tears in her eyes.

"Why do you care what happens to me?" She asks after a moment. "You don't even know my name"

Will chuckles at that. "That is something we'll have to fix love. Because I'm gonna be around for a while. I wouldn't let anyone get hurt because of my big mouth"

Y/N giggles at that, making Will smile back at her. He was proud to have been able to make her laugh at that moment despite the circumstances.

"Y/N" she softly says. "My name is Y/N"

"Y/N" Will echoes. "That's a beautiful name love"

"Thank you" she replies bashfully.

"I, um" Y/N stumbles over her words as she stands up. "I should go check on Charles"

"Charles?" Will asks. He had just met Y/N, but the thought of her possibly being in a relationship made his stomach drop.

"Yeah, my dog" Y/N answers.

Will let out a breath at her explanation, and watched as she walked to her bedroom door and opened it.

A cute little basset hound came trotting out, ears dragging on the floor as he stared at Will.

Will smiled and kneeled down to hold out his hand. "Hey little guy"

But the dog's eyes narrow, and he lets out a bark before standing in front of Y/N defensively.

"Charles!" Y/N exclaims. She leans down to pick him up, and pets his head. "I'm sorry about that, he's usually very gentle"

"It's alright love" Will waves it off. "He's gotta protect his mama, don't you boy?"

"He wouldn't leave my side for the rest of the night" Y/N sighs. "He hasn't gotten much sleep at all"

"I'm sure he'll get some rest today" Will replies, a sympathetic look on his handsome face.

"Will.." Y/N sighs as she sets Charles down by her feet. "I have to tell Taz. He's like my father, I can't keep this from him"

Will is quiet for a moment, mulling over the circumstances in his head. He understood where she was coming from, and to be honest he didn't see a downside to telling Taz.

It was Hook he was worried about. Judging by his attitude in the cafe, it made him worried that Hook would try to confront Callis.

And admittedly, he was nervous about what Hook would do to him.

"I know it's a lot to consider" Y/N interrupts Will's thoughts. "But they're my family"

Will walks over to her and takes her hands in his before he nods. "I understand love"

Y/N froze for a moment, her heartbeat quickening as he cradled her hands like they were the most fragile thing.

"I've gotta head to the store to grab the stuff to fix your window. Call them over and explain. I'll be back soon" Will says.

"No, Will, I can get the window fixed" Y/N frowns, but her eyes widen as he places a finger against her lips.

Will wasn't one to freeze, but he couldn't deny he had when she stared up at him with curious doe eyes, his finger pressed against her lips. He couldn't help but imagine those lips against his own.

He shook his head quickly, regaining his train of thought. "This whole mess is my fault Y/N, I insist"

"O-Okay" She stutters out, cheeks bright pink as she stares up at him.

"Excuse me?"

Y/N stiffened as those words flew out of Hook's mouth.

She, Hook, and Taz were seated around her dining table, and she had just explained the situation to them.

She saw how tightly Hook was now gripping the fork in his hand, and she could feel his bouncing leg shaking the table.

Meanwhile, Taz was silent. Too silent.

She knew he was angry, she could tell by his tense jaw and clenched fists. She appreciated that he was trying to keep his cool, as he always did. It made her feel more grounded, like if Taz could be calm she could too. But Y/N wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was certainly upset under the surface.

"He didn't do it on purpose Ty" Y/N mumbles nervously. "He was just trying to get Callis to leave me alone"

"Why would he flirt with you like that right in front of Callis?!" Hook demands. "Why was he doing it at all for that matter?!"

"Tyler" Taz says his name sternly. "We are past that now. We have to focus on the situation at hand; which is how to keep Y/N safe"

"I know how" Hook fumes. "We get her as far away from Will as possible. Make it clear she has no connection with him at all"

"We don't know that Callis would believe it" Taz counters. "If Y/N is sent away it may look like Will is pulling out all the stops in order to protect her. It could just solidify his position"

"So we do nothing?!" Hook asks incredulously.

"I didn't say that" Taz immediately snaps, sending his son a warning look. "I would like to discuss how to go forward with Will"

"He'll be back soon" Y/N spoke up. "He went to get the stuff to fix my window"

Taz frowned at her red-tinted eyes; it was clear she was very scared, and he couldn't stand it. He promised her parents long ago that he would protect her. So he stood up, and Y/N followed him to the living room where they both sat on the couch.

"Hey, hon, look at me" Taz places his hand on her shoulder.

She does as told, and Taz gently smiles. "I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe, you understand me? Anything"

Y/N nodded and leaned over to hug his torso. "Thank you, Taz"

Taz smiled as her head rested against his chest, and rubbed up and down her back. "Of course hon. No one's gonna hurt you, not while we're around"

Hook nodded, and stood up to walk over to them. He sat in the space next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "We'll do whatever it takes"

"You guys always make me feel safe" Y/N smiles sleepily.

Taz just smiles, and rocks her back and forth like he used to do when she was little.

She dozed off into a peaceful sleep, a soft smile stuck on her face.

But as soon as Taz was sure she was out minutes later, a hard look overtook his features. "We're gonna do whatever is necessary to make this problem go away"

Hook immediately nods. "Want me to reach out to Hobbs?"

"Absolutely" Taz answers. "I don't give a damn about Ospreay. I'll deliver his head to Callis on a platter if that's what it takes"

But what neither man realized was Charles had brushed against her foot. He had woken her up and she heard their words.

Y/N sat awkwardly in her orange beanbag, glancing every so often between the two Senerchia men and Will.

Taz and Hook were whispering to each other in the kitchen. And Charles was also curled up at Hook's feet, glaring at Will too.

Will was doing his best to ignore their nasty looks and focus on the broken window.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call someone to fix that Will? I don't want you getting hurt" Y/N said.

But Will just sends her a charming smile. "Don't worry about me love, I've got it covered. I'm rather good with my hands"

Hook's scoff could be heard from a mile away.

Will ignored Hook's clear disdain, instead reveling in the flustered and blushy look on Y/N's gorgeous face.

"Are we entirely sure Callis is actually wrong in his assumption about those two?" Taz mumbles to Hook with a chuckle.

But Hook just huffs and crosses his arms. "She's not getting involved with him, he's got way too many enemies"

Taz raises an eyebrow. "So do we son"

"But he's different" Hook whispers sharply. "He's so nonchalant about everything. He doesn't think things through. He's dangerous for her. And her dad never would have approved of this"

"On the contrary" Taz laughs. "Will reminds me of her father. And you sound like Y/N's mother's father when she got involved with him"

"Y/N's dad was very level-headed" Hook counters, remembering the man from his childhood.

"Once he settled down with Kimberly, sure" Taz laughs, reminiscing about his friends. "But Max was not always like that. When they first met it was actually because he was running from the cops. He ran into her parent's shop to hide, and she was the only one working at the time. She let him hide out there, against her better judgment as she always said. He wouldn't stop flirting with her until she said she'd give him to the cops herself if he didn't"

"That sounds like Aunt Kim" Hook smiles softly.

"She was always so strong" Taz sadly smiles. "They started sneaking around together, and before they knew it Kim got pregnant. He thought it was just a given they'd get married then, but she said no. She told him, if you're gonna be with me, there's gonna be some stability. She didn't want to raise a child in an environment where he was running from the cops or enemy gangs every day. He thought she wanted him to go legit, but she said no to that too. She was always so clear about what she wanted. Kim didn't want him to stop, it's what he loved. His father did it, and so did his. She just told him to be more cautious, and not pick a fight every time someone rubbed him the wrong way. And he agreed.

"I was the best man at their wedding, you know" Taz grins proudly.

"I know, you have the picture right on the mantle" Hook replies.

Then Y/N walks into the kitchen. "Hey guys, I'm gonna get started on dinner. Any requests?"

"I'm gonna head out hon" Taz answers, leaning down to hug her and kiss her on the forehead. "But Tyler's staying, and I'm sure he'll have an opinion"

Y/N laughs and leans up to kiss his cheek. "Okay, I'll see you soon Taz"

"Have a good night hon. And don't you worry about a thing, I'll handle this" he looks directly into her eyes as he speaks the comforting words.

Y/N nods up at him, but the dark twinge in his eyes does nothing to quell her nerves. She figured Taz must have a plan, and with what she overheard when he thought she was asleep, she had an idea of what it was.

Y/N watched him leave with a frown on her face, her mind running a hundred miles a minute as she thought about what plans Taz was cooking up. And furthermore, how they would affect Will.

She wasn't exactly sure why the thought of something happening to Will made her heart ache so much. She had just met the man, and in less than five minutes he managed to put her in danger. She should despise him.

But as Y/N glances back at the silly man trying to fix her window, guilt was eating her alive as she imagined what could be in store for him.

"Are you okay Y/N?" Hook asked as he waved his hand in front of her face to interrupt her staring.

Y/N blinked before looking up at him. "What is Taz planning on doing?"

Hook raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. She never wanted to know about the details of their 'business'. "Don't worry about it Y/N, we've got everything covered"

"I just.." Y/N hesitated. What she was considering was wrong, and she shouldn't do it. But with one last glance over at Will, who was trying and failing to get Charles to let him pet him, she decided it had to be done. "I'm scared Tyler... I'm scared and I want to know that you guys have a plan to make this all go away"

Hook bit his lip as he weighed his options. Taz was clear when he told him the plans earlier while they were whispering back and forth; he said not to tell Y/N. But as she let out a sniffle, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

She leaned her head against his chest as he whispered into her ear. "Dad is gonna offer to tell Callis where Will is, in exchange for him leaving you alone. If everything goes to plan, Callis will be here by the end of the night"

Y/N did her best to keep her breath steady as she listened. "Tyler, Callis is going to hurt Will. He only didn't do anything in the cafe because of all the people-"

"That's not our problem" Hook huffed. "Whatever Callis does to him is deserved, he should have never put you in this position"

"He was just-"

"This isn't a negotiation Y/N" Hook firmly stated, pulling back to meet her angry eyes. "Do you know what Callis would do to you if he thought you'd lead him to his revenge on Will?"

"I don't care" Y/N hissed, voice raising just enough for Will's eyes to flicker over to them. "It's not right for you to do this to him"

"Y/N-"

"Just leave me alone" Y/N crosses her arms and stomps off into her bedroom.

Both men watched as Charles ran after her, slipping into the room before she slammed the door.

But as soon as the door was closed she locked it and ran to the closet.

She yanked out her suitcase and threw it onto the bed.

Charles watched as Y/N opened it and started shoving her clothes haphazardly into it.

Anxiety was raging through her veins as she packed her things, unsure if this was the best thing to do.

It wasn't, not for herself anyway.

If she just let Taz go through with his plan she'd be safe in a measly couple of hours.

But the thought of sacrificing Will to achieve that was sickening to her.

He didn't do anything wrong, he was just a sweet man who wanted to protect her from Callis despite not even knowing her.

He could have just kept waking when he saw Callis harassing her, but he did what was right. Not what was best for himself.

And Y/N was determined to do the same for him in return.

So with one final deep breath, she zipped the last of her things in the suitcase and walked back out into the living room.

Hook was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and looking at his phone.

And Will appeared to be almost finished with repairing the window.

Y/N walked over to him and kneeled beside him. "Do you need any help?"

"No love, I'm almost-" he paused as she leaned close to him, seemingly to get a closer look at his progress.

But her face was right next to his, and he stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

He was snapped back to reality when she whispered in his ear. "Say you forgot something at the store and need to go get it"

"But I don't-"

"Shush! And do what I said" she whisper yells, a pointed look in her eyes. "He won't let you leave, he'll go instead"

"Why-"

"Just do it and stop asking questions" Y/N insists sternly, before standing up and walking into the kitchen.

"What would you like for dinner?" Y/N asks softly, looking at Hook with false remorse.

Hook just smiles sympathetically at her. "You're having a tough day, whatever will be easiest for you"

Y/N nods and smiles back. She leans over and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, Ty"

"I love you too" He replies.

"Hey, mate" Will finally speaks up, walking over to them. "I just realized I forgot to get sealer for the window. I'm gonna head to the store really quick and pick some up"

Hook's eyes widen slightly before he returns his face to stoic and sends a look over at Y/N.

She pretends to look nervous as he looks back over at Will.

"Why don't you stay here? Callis probably has his men out looking for you. I'll get it" Hook says.

Will nods. "I appreciate it"

Hook nods back, before looking down at Y/N. "If you need me, call"

"I will" she says, and watches as he walks out.

She trails after him, and looks through the peephole to make sure he's gone.

"What's going on love?" Will confusedly asks, staring as she then runs over to the window to see if Hook's car has pulled out.

"We have to leave. Now" Y/N stresses, running to the bedroom and grabbing her suitcase.

Will furrows his eyebrows, eyes wide as she rolls out her bag. "What are you talking about?"

"Taz has a plan" Y/N explains as she runs to the closet and pulls Charles' cage out. "He's planning on telling Callis you're here in exchange for him leaving me out of this. I don't think we have much time left, it's almost dark out. We have to go"

Will stood silent, watching as she coaxed Charles into the cage.

He couldn't understand why she was telling him this. Why she was willing to run away with him. If she went through with this, she'd be hiding from Callis for months, possibly years. And cutting herself off from everyone she knows and loves. Her business, which she was so clearly passionate about, and the Senerchias.

He was just some guy who showed up and brought world-shattering problems with him.

"Why are you telling me this?" Will mumbled. "Why do you care at all what happens to me?"

"Why do you care what happens to me?" Y/N counters.

"I brought this problem upon you, love" Will answers. "I did this; made the problem, brought it to your doorstep, and put you in danger. You should be happy to get rid of me. You're not thinking this through"

"Maybe not, but I've already told you now" Y/N says. "And you're going to run either way, and if I stay Callis will know I warned you-"

"No" Will cuts her off. "No, I won't run"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N raises to her feet.

Will takes a step towards her, a sad smile on his handsome face. "I won't run" he repeats gently. "I'll stay. I'll stay right here. Whatever plans Callis has awaiting me, that's fine. Because it means you'll be safe. I brought this upon myself and I have to deal with the consequences. I knew what would happen when I left him. And I knew it further when I started a rival group. I accepted the consequences when I chose this life. But you, you didn't. And you don't deserve to be in danger because I can't refrain from flirting with a beautiful girl"

Y/N couldn't help but let out a little laugh, and he did too as tears welled up in both their eyes.

"I know what's coming, love" Will says, placing his hand against her cheek and staring into her eyes. "And it's okay"

"I'm not worth this. Please don't do this Will” Y/N whimpers. "We can hide away together; run away together”

Will smiles. “I must be crazy to deny running away with you”

“Then don’t” Y/N whispers. “Don’t. And run away with me”

“You don’t even know me darling” Will cautions. “I’m not a good person, I’ve done some terrible things”

“So has everyone” Y/N replies.

“Is that right?” He teases. “What have you done?”

“I snuck out once to go to a party” Y/N dramatically proclaims.

“Scandalous” Will laughs. “But I fear you’ll find that my crimes are much more serious”

“Taz is like my father, and I know what he’s done” Y/N insists. “I may not know you yet, but I’ll learn. And if I ever change my mind, I’ll just have to run away for a second time”

“I’d never try to stop you” Will answers seriously.

“Then we have nothing to worry about” Y/N smiles. “Now let’s go, please! We’ve wasted enough time!”

Will stays in place as she runs to grab Charles’ food, shoving it into a backpack.

She runs around the room, grabbing a few last things such as pictures and a couple of things from the kitchen.

Will lets out a loud sigh. “You’re crazy love”

“No more than you are”

“Y/N!” Hook exclaims from outside, knocking loudly on her door.

He’d been outside for 5 minutes and had no response.

He finally has enough, and squares his shoulders before backing up and kicking in the door.

His eyes widen fearfully when he sees some important pictures missing from the walls.

He runs into the bedroom, and yanks open the closet to find many clothes are gone, as well as her suitcase.

As he realizes he doesn’t hear the pitter-patter of Charles’ little paws, he lets out a string of curses.

He never should have told Y/N the damn plan.

#will ospreay x reader #aew will ospreay x reader #will ospreay aew x reader #will ospreay x you #will ospreay #aew #aew fanfiction #will ospreay imagine #aew will ospreay

[safifonhasstrel]

"I'm going to be young and beautiful in my coffin. don't you think that's romantic?" "no, I don't. I think it's disgusting."

Books I grew up reading: The Vampire Diaries by L. J. Smith

#lit #litedit #yalit #the vampire diaries #the BOOKS! #tvd #look #i don't expect this edit to get more than 10 notes #if at all #but I've been cleaning my book shelves and came across the tvd books #and man I used to love these books #read them before the show came out #i know they are super cringe at parts but I loved them #also I haven't edited in forever so this is good practice #even if it flops lol #mine #my edit

[seeminglyseph]

I am going a little crazy that despite Lou definitely singing Crawling, they are all referencing the In The End music video for their Linkin Park references in Adventuring Party on the Ravening war.

And it probably says more about me than anything else. But I am looping the In The End video to find the right screen grab to redraw. (I think the song will reflect perfectly on season anyway given the way everything is going. you tried so hard and got so far, but in the end... did it ever really matter?)

#seph watches the ravening war #d20 spoilers #dimension 20 #i can't do linkin park as chicken nuggets #maybe they would all find it super funny but in my heart it feels a little disrespectful to the late great chester bennington #the fact that they don't know crawling and in the end are different songs i doubt the cast know the band well enough to know that detail #so I don't hold that accountable to them #but I personally cannot make that decision and I personally hold the band in higher regard #so I personally am making a different decision #but if I can combine a band I genuinely do love even if they have a reputation for cringe #and some liveplay shows I am really loving #into a two great tastes that taste great together kinda situation #I am totally down and on board #honestly chester bennington and mike shinoda defined a massive part of my youth and I refuse to be ashamed of that #cringe all you like I will be free

[heatmiiiiser]

Ggrrr I wish disenchantment was better. I binged it all because I'm sick somebody talk to me about this.

#the groening show on netflix #it had so much potential #and i did enjoy it!!! plenty of the characters were awesome #but it tried to be too big. wanted to incorporate too much. i didn't like beans magic. it got really repetitive #it felt like a lot of the movement between “lands” was super unnecessary. and took up a lot of time that could have been used in narrative #development #and you know the most fucked up part is that there was a Canon wlw couple that was end game AND I DIDNT EVEN LIKE THEM TOGETHERRR #and the last seasons egregious hyperfocus on love specifically romantic love like #it was cringe im sorry!!! not great writing #im glad beans relationship w her dad got better but i didnt like how instantanious it felt #also obv. i hate the whole thing with prince derek and his pixie gf. ew. really weird #but there was so much good and it couldve been great #i still enjoyed it but it fell short in so many ways #HOW DO YOU HAVE A QUEER GIRL COUPLE THAT I DONT LIKE!!! ME!!! QUEER GIRL NUMBER 1!!!!!! #i like EVERY WLW SHIP #and mora x bean had potential but like #it seemed a lot of the time liek they didnt even really like eachother. they aggravated tf out of eachother and not in like a hehe gay ppl #who bicker type of way. it was very much lesbian couple written by straight man feeling. idk if thats true but its the vibe i got #to the end im sad elfo never really actionably got over his weird thing about bean. he just said he did #and him and miri/mop girl. ehhhhh #i like her but she should have had a more gradual introduction into the main cast because she really feels like an after thought #glad zog moved to the woods that seemed like the right move #bean kinda handing the kingdom off to the elves kinda felt like a cop out after thought #like she got all weird about this is their kingdom we stole it from them and then only rwally gave it up after she got something that she #wanted more #please let me remake this show!!!!!!!! #also steam land!!! i like the concept but the execution and the travellimg back and forth between the two #the biggest issue this show suffered with though was repetition. #animation was fun. i enjoyed the use of 3d especially in later seasons #a lot of the jokes were funny but a lot just fell short.

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ rivals... in love? — extended cut !

this is pure hysterics, i'm sorry but i can't resist! tysm for the brainrot amy!! @seonghrtz 🫶🏻 mwah mwah !!

a part of gojo's love entries

“you see… if you kiss me, i'll definitely show you just how great my lips actually are.”

you’d expect this sort of nonsense from gojo satoru, yet it was geto suguru who was standing in front of you with such genial smile that you were at a loss.

you dumbly blinked. “huh?”

“satoru said i taste like a cursed spirit, yeah?” suguru didn't seem offended, at least from how he was wording it and that eye smile. “that's a really foul accusation. i’m here to clarify—”

you widened your eyes, almost cringing. “no, no! you don’t have to—”

“SUGURU! YOU SWINE!”

a resounding bang. you whipped your head towards the door in total panic, which was... fortunately still tightly shut. satoru, who had openly declared that he was into you in the previous chapter, was hurling profanities towards his best friend, pounding against the door, visibly vexed.

“you… locked the door?” you questioned suguru in disbelief, and he merely shrugged.

“for safety purposes, yeah.”

well, if you look at satoru now... he did look like a super angry cat who was ready to pounce on suguru and claw him to shreds.

“he could've blasted it.” you glanced apprehensively toward the door, catching his eyes, and in an instant, satoru's scowl turned into the most hopeful expression of a wagging puppy—hoping for you to saunter towards him instead and desert his friend altogether.

suguru chuckled. “he can, yes, but he'll be facing yaga afterwards.”

and you. there was no way he'd scare you off by blasting a ‘red’ on a doorframe. you were clueless, but suguru knew just how soft satoru could make himself to be if it was for you.

you sighed. all you wanted was to go back to your dorms following an exhausting mission. you truly had little energy to entertain this.

meanwhile, outside, satoru was this close to kick the door off its hinges. he was having about thirty different heart attacks by witnessing how close suguru was to your vicinity. his chance was quite literally slipping by each second.

and when in his attempt to hear what the two of you were saying—

“let us just kiss then, to see what it’s like—”

“geto-san, what the—!”

and in that moment, he really saw green and really used a bit more force, tearing the knob— bang!

“don't you dare to get close to my girl, you slimy bangs!”

kapow! pow!

what was even happening? one second, suguru was almost leaning in for that kiss, and the next, satoru popped out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground. and you stood there, utterly bewildered, caught between the whirlwind of their catfight.

your first crush, whom you thought was sensible, and the most obnoxious boy who was whipped for you like a fool...

losers, you absentmindedly thought to yourself. both of them. losers…

“satoru, you're incorrigible!”

“the audacity! you know very well i like her and yet—!”

and yet, a small smile tugged at your lips when you saw how red-faced satoru was. he was genuinely upset to see you with suguru, and that sparked a sense of achievement within you.

“let's see if you will be able to make him say it...”

while you pondered, almost giddy, you were undoubtedly sure about two things at that moment: one, maybe gojo satoru wasn't that bad, he was kinda cute even, and you might consider him... and two—

shoko lost the bet, and you won.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo

[faggy--butch]

is it just me or is the "trans guys are just some boring guys and they make lame music and trans women are cool and interesting and make loud music" jokes almost like. an excuse for why theres not that many trans guys who are popular content creators or musicians or actors or authors or what have you. like blaming the invisibility of trans men on being "boring" and therefore not doing anything rather than oppression.

not to mention the example of music being that people have heard of one singular trans guy who works in a genre they dont like [people really love to act like cavetown is like specifically bad or cringe but thats just what most indie pop/rock/folk sounds like] and theyve heard of a handful of trans women who make hyperpop that they already like [and laura jane grace of course] and its really telling on themselves. theres trans guys making hyperpop and trans women making ""lame ukulele music"" and both of them and nonbinary people making music of tons of other genres. like. cmon. it reminds me of xkcd 385.

also i dont think these jokes are intentionally malicious or anything [most of the time] but it also feels sort of weird to be joking about how boring a group of marginalized people are. im not going to act like its the biggest deal in the world but its sort of low level bullying, innit? and i imagine having this weird expectation to be "cool and interesting" isnt fun for trans women either. its nice to get to be lame sometimes.

Yeah it's super weird, especially because it's repeated over and over, that part is the suspicious part. I even saw it on reddit a few days ago in one of the ftm subs. I do think it's like blaming the lack of trans men artists on trans men being "boring" instead of, you know the bigotry, the erasure, the inequality I think it's also a weird expectation that we all HAVE to live up to what other people think of as "cool" like if we're all not making hardcore metal and being as "SICK" as humanly possible, we are failing at transgender music and therefore are the reason trans men aren't represented as artists enough, which is ummm. okay.

why can't we make soft love songs about being bugs, or whatever. What happens to trans women who don't live up to the metal hardcore aesthetic? Look at Dylan Mulvaney. She made a dumb cutsie girlypop song and everyone acted like she is the founder of misogyny herself. So not only are we ridiculed for the music we make, we're trapped in transphobic expectations of what music we can or should make.

If you expect all trans women to make metal, you'll only see trans women who make metal, if you expect all trans men to make soft music, that's all you'll find! because that's all you looked for! Another thing is like, Oh all trans women music is cool and hardcore rock and roll, but trans men music is dumb and cutsie ukulele music? I wonder what gender those genres are normally associate with? Uhoh we're doing a sexism maybe the person making the joke doesn't have malicious intent, but the joke itself sure does.

#asks #transandrophobia #transmisogny

[mangosrar]

call it what you want.

matt sturniolo x fem reader. enemies to lovers!!

WHEW YALL HEY. it’s been a while but i’m super excited to be back. love u ❤️‍🩹

warnings: suggestive. arguing

this will be multiple parts!!!!

pt2

"im not a child anymore! i cant move 2 inches without them being on my ass about something" you exclaimed as you paced up and down the living room.

nick sat on the couch, gawking at you as you ranted. you sighed before stopping and pointing a finger at nick.

"and you know what, they dont do this to my brother, nooo he can fuck all the girls he wants but i mention one guy im not even dating and suddenly im going off the rails" nick just stared at you with a questionable expression on his face.

you knew he wouldnt understand, his parents were so lenient, so the fact you were going on a 20 minute tangent about how strict yours were was completely futile and you may as well be speaking in a different language.

you dropped your hands and whined before stomping over to the couch and plopping down next to nick.

"i mean, how could i win nick? they want me to be happy but i wanna be happy with a hot boyfriend" you said as you turned your head to look at him, he just looked down at you with a sympathetic but mischievous look.

"im worried my advice is going to get you in trouble" he cringed. you pulled your head back and furrowed your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"i mean... you need to rebel y/n, find someone whos completely foreign to them" you stared at him, thinking for a second.

it wasnt like you wanted to, but the fact that their heads would fall off if you found someone who was the complete opposite of your parents and their expectations, brought you a little bit of complete fucking joy.

it was like a lightbulb moment, your eyes widened, and a cheesy grin pulled at your lips as you practically leaped off of the couch and continued your pacing.

"i need someone who is all mean and mysterious, or maybe a guy who drives a motorbike or plays the drums" you rambled looking at nick for approval but being met with a flat expression on his face.

"seriously y/n?" he questioned.

"whatever im just brainstorming" you waved him off.

"whoever he is needs to be nonchalant, he needs to smoke and drink, maybe dabble in partying every now and again, he needs to have tattoos and long hair. i mean be honest, if you came home with a guy like that, i think your mom would drop dead" he explained, letting out a small laugh before leaning forward slightly.

and as if god himself was listening, matthew sturniolo appeared in the doorway, in all of his long haired and tattood glory, sipping on a can of root beer, watching you intently.

both you and nick snapped your head towards him as he stood there with a stoic expression.

"what do you want weirdo?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

he squinted at you before sticking his hand out besides him in question.

"your in my house y/n. the real question is what do you want" he spat.

truth was you and matt had never gotten along. despite your decade long friendship with his brothers, there was always something about him that you couldnt stand and apparently matt felt the same way towards you, so the two of you started an unspoken hatred for each other one day and it has stood strong ever since.

neither of you were sure why it started, but matt always hated the way you thought you were better than everyone else, how you could never admit when you were in the wrong, or the way your scent stuck to everything so he could always smell you around the house, but mostly he hated the way his cock would jump when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, even when you were spitting insults at him.

"i want you to stop listening to our conversation and get the fuck out of my face" you bit back, turning to face him and crossing your arms, keeping your hard stare fixed on him.

"please, you love it when i get in your face y/n. and you know what, have a little more compassion, your parents are wonderful people." he scoffed as he took a step towards you, keeping his eyes trained on yours. he was clearly trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"they dont even like you matt, i wouldnt be so up their ass" you smiled sarcastically. he just laughed before taking another step towards you.

"and i cant stand their bitch of a daughter so were even" he spoke lowly, shooting daggers at you. there was a few seconds of silence where you and matt were just glaring at each other. wordlessly throwing insults and screaming at one another, before nick cleared his throat, causing the bubble around you both to pop.

you and matt turned to look at nick who was standing up from his seat on the couch, with an expression that you couldnt place. you could feel the heat radiating off of matt, in the midst of the bickering you hadnt realized how close he had gotten, you hadnt realized how good he smelt, or how him looking down at you like a disobedient child made you want to drop to your knees there and then.

nick opened his mouth to speak, his eyes jumping from you to his brother, who was stood not even a foot away.

"back to the topic at hand...why dont you date chris?" nick said like it was the most obvious option.

"you cant be serious..." matt trailed off, looking at his brother.

"no way nick, hes like my brother, plus my parents like him" you explained, ignoring matts comment, moving away from him and taking a seat back on the couch, folding your legs up underneath you.

"fake it, be in a fake relationship with him" you werent sure what planet nick was living on, but he was not helping in any way shape or form.

you just rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the realization this was never going to work. there was a pregnant pause, all 3 of you, thinking completely different things, before matt broke the silence.

"ok so let me get this straight, you wanna piss off your parents, and show them your all grown up, by finding a guy in a biker gang..... as a scare tactic?" he asked, sending questioning looks between you and nick.

"not a biker gang matt" nick replied flatly, shaking his head at him.

"so just someone with tattoos, and long hair?" he spoke, placing his drink down on the coffee table and crossing his arms over his chest.

you shrugged and nodded your head at him. why was he so interested.

"so you just wanna use someone, to make your parents mad?" he furrowed his brows, desperately trying to get this right, but you were sure he was trying to make you feel bad so you didnt go through with it, just so you would stay miserable. or so you thought.

"call it what you want matt, i dont care what you think, this is none of your business" you spat.

you watched matts eyes wander from yours to his brothers who had been suspiciously silent. they were exchanging glances, like they were speaking some sort of wordless language, and it was concerning. usually, matt wouldve threw an insult back at you, but his expression didnt even waiver.

pulling your eyes away from matt, you turned to nick with a confused expression, and studdied his face, watching as his eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning to face you with a look in his eye that you couldnt decipher.

"before you say anything, just hear me out"

_______________________________________________

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @st4rswrld @soursturniolo @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @gloomymatt @gwenlore @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #mango talks #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #christmas #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #my stuff #sturniolo smut #smut #series. #fanfic #s #Spotify

[cheesiedomino]

Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #lee know fluff #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #lee know x reader #lee know skz #lee know x female reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #stray kids fluff #skz drabbles #lee know drabbles #lee know scenarios #lee know angst #lee know smut #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz angst #skz au

[celtic-crossbow]

Series Masterlist

Blood Ties Chapter 15

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; vomiting; pregnancy; pregnancy complications; allusions to child abuse. A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than most of the others but I’m actually super content with it. I’ve altered Daryl’s idiolect to somewhere I feel a little more comfortable. I hope it still stays true to the character. Lots of feels. Buckle up.

Apparently, sleep had been in the cards for you after all. There were four things you noticed immediately upon waking. 

Firstly, there was a comforting ache between your legs that reminded you of the events of the previous night. You could still feel Daryl’s bare skin against yours, sweat-slick and new. You were aware he didn’t give that part of himself easily. You felt privileged. Your newfound revelation of your love for him felt validated. Still, you urged your mind onward. 

Secondly, Daryl was nowhere to be seen, along with Rick, Glenn, and Maggie. They must have left for the run already. You fought against the disappointment of not being able to see the archer before he’d gone. He wouldn’t have woken you. You knew that, but that did little to settle the discontentment of not seeing him off. 

Thirdly, a warmth was secured around your upper half in the form of one of Daryl’s button-up shirts. You chuckled quietly, considering how the gesture was one that was likely born out of concern and consideration but allowed yourself to entertain that it could have more than that. A desire to protect you and his child, ensure your comfort, as if wrapping you in something of his somehow marked you as off limits. 

And finally, you had to pee. The basic bodily function had been enough of an inconvenience before a small weight had been added above your bladder. Now, it appeared that your life was nothing outside of eating, vomiting, crying, and urinating. You were still trying to discern where the beautiful part of pregnancy might be hiding. 

“Good morning.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before waiting as they focused on Carol. You returned the greeting while stretching, your muscles giving up their sleep-induced stiffness. 

“Not much to eat but I saved you some beans. Are you hungry?”

You shook your head while, at the same time, scratching your blunt nails over your scalp. “I really need to pee though.” You eased Daryl’s shirt away from where it had pooled, folding it into a square on your lap. There was a brief chuckle from Carol that had you looking up quizzically. 

“I wish you could have seen him making sure you were okay before he left.” Your cheeks reddened, heat rising all the way to your ears. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.” The woman held out a hand. You took it and pulled yourself up, the warmth in your skin beginning to fade. As an afterthought, you grabbed Daryl’s shirt and unfolded it. It fit loosely over your flannel and shirt, providing a little more warmth against the morning chill. 

“I hope they are able to find more clothes. The wind cuts right through these damn pants.” You weren’t really intending to make conversation during the walk just inside the treeline but the silence after she had confirmed Daryl’s softness toward you had felt overbearing. 

“It was probably even colder without them.”

It took a minute for her words to sink in and then you stopped, feigning confusion even after the hint of pink covering your face surely gave you away. “What are you talking about?”

Carol laughed, a quiet sound, and stepped forward to barely move aside the three layers over your collarbone. “He left a reminder for you.” You really were confused for a moment before you were presented with the pleasant memory of his teeth clamping down above your collarbone and the intense orgasm that followed. 

“How do you know it wasn’t a walker?” You knew your attempt would be fruitless and cringed at the absurdity of your question. There was a relief when she didn’t even embarrass you further by answering. “Don’t tell anyone?”

“I didn’t tell them you were pregnant. I won’t tell them you’re sleeping with your baby’s father.” Carol grinned at your expression, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’ll wait here.”

You were dry heaving against the far end of the wall when you heard the roar of Daryl’s motorcycle signal the group’s return. Carol had finally insisted you try to eat something and you conceded, barely finishing the last bite before scrambling away from the fire to vomit only a few feet away. After that, it was a losing battle that you didn’t have the energy to fight. 

“Y’okay?” 

Smiling through bouts of retching had not been on your bingo card for the year, but there you were. His warm hand came to rest against your spine. You sagged with a sigh, barely holding yourself up. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was rough. Clearing your throat, you sat back on your heels and tried again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” The back of your hand rubbed across your mouth to wipe away traces of saliva before you allowed yourself to look at him. “Jesus, Daryl!” The archer was covered in grime and guts, a darkening bruise on his right cheekbone and a still weeping cut above his left eyebrow. 

“M’fine. Ran into some trouble. Handled it.”  

When your hand reached for his chin, he didn’t shy away, letting you turn his head one way and then the other. “Looks more like it handled you.” The archer scoffed and swatted at your arm. With a sigh, you braced yourself on shaky arms to force yourself up, caught off guard by his fingers pinching the three fabrics that covered you to pull them aside like Carol had earlier. You didn’t expect to see such a deep frown when you brought your attention to his face.

Pursing your lips, you sat back down and pulled down the collar of his undershirt, relieved that he had taped gauze over the wound you had opened on him. “I think I win, tiger. Besides, it doesn’t even hurt.”

“Don’t make it alright.”

You shrugged. “It does if I liked it.” You were hoping that would bring him some calm but that endeavor was cut short when you lurched to the side to once again heave futility. Daryl would find no protest when he scooped you up after you’d finished, saving you the journey back to the fireside. 

Your feet touched the ground just as everyone came into view. Did he not want them to see him carrying you? 

“Uh, here.” The archer’s fingers shook as he gently lifted your wrist and began to fit some sort of bracelet on it. “Couldn’t find the meds. M’sorry. Tried like hell. Turned that place upside down.” He looked so disappointed in himself. 

You examined the piece, a light pink band with symmetrically placed metal circles that fit snug, but not painfully so, against your skin. It was a strange piece of jewelry. “It’s pretty.” You stated honestly, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. The gift was appreciated and you liked it in all its uniqueness. It was just that Daryl offering you an apology in the form of a gift was new, for lack of a better term. 

The bowman snorted. “S’posed to use pressure points to help keep ya from feelin’ so sick.”

Somehow, that meant even more than an apology. He couldn’t find what you needed so he searched out an alternative. You were almost willing to bet that’s why he looked roughed up compared to the mere dirt and walker guts you could make out on the other three. 

“Ain’t gonna stop lookin’ though. M’a find that medicine for ya.”

You smiled at him, heartfelt and genuine. “You’ll find it and Thumper’ll be just fine.”

“Ain’t just—” Daryl trailed off, scratching at the back of head while not meeting your eyes. “Ain’t just ‘bout the kid, y’know.” You blinked, your eyes filling. Though some of his actions had hinted at it, hearing him say it was something else entirely. 

“Daryl, I—”

“Y/N!” Maggie was beaming at you while jogging over, immediately wrapping a soft hand around your forearm. “Come see!” She encouraged, all teeth and bright eyes. You glanced back to find Daryl already disappearing into the dark, the moment clearly over. 

You let yourself mourn it even as you plastered on a smile and turned back to allow her to lead you to the others. A short distance from the fire, a plethora of items were littered across a blanket. The eldest Greene daughter had already relinquished her hold and knelt above the supplies. 

“What is all this?”

“Well,” Glenn chuckled from beside Maggie. “Daryl had a list. We searched for medicine and clothes and food but that guy was in full dad mode.” Your heart fluttered but you continued to listen. “He had all this loaded by the time we came out with the other stuff.”

“We couldn’t find the meds though. Not yet but we’re going to stop in other places. We did find some IV bags and tubing though!” Her big eyes flitted down to the bracelet you were toying with unconsciously. “He went back in for those.” Maggie’s expression was incredibly soft. “We heard some other people. And there were walkers. We were loading the last of everything and he was just gone.”

“Looked like hell when he came out but had a bag of about ten of those things.” Glenn gestured to your wrist. “He didn’t know if they expired and really, we didn’t know what they were but he did. He said you might need them for a while after the baby comes.”

You were on the verge of tears, your hand closing around the contraption Daryl had fought so hard to secure. Maggie was already showing you clothing she had acquired, mentioning that you and Lori would need them.  There were boots and sneakers, a size larger than you usually wore. Bras, only regular ones. Nursing bras were a no-go but it would be a while before you needed those. They found few actual maternity items but things in larger sizes and some men’s items that could be used. 

“And then all this stuff Daryl grabbed. He said he didn’t know if he’d ever find it all again so he took all he could.” Rick had remained quiet up to that point, refusing to meet Lori’s eyes as he spoke. Definitely trouble in that paradise. 

The blanket held things you weren’t even sure about. Maggie explained the manual breast pump. There were bottles, nipples, pacifiers, orajel, one container of infant Tylenol, a container of infant gas relief drops, two packs of newborn diapers, three packs of wipes, several baby blankets, three healthcare kits, some clothes that were just so, so tiny. You were simply overwhelmed. Daryl, the provider for the group, had ventured off alone to find all he could think of for the baby, leaving the others to find supplies for the here and now. 

“How are we gonna haul all of this if something happens to the cars?” You bit down on your lip after speaking, still fighting the sting in your eyes. 

“I guess he thought of that too.” Glenn jerked his head to the right where several backpacks were piled up. “He said between all of us, we can keep everything here as well as any supplies the adults need.” It went unsaid how you all held onto hope that you’d have a safe place to stay by then. 

“Wow. How many places did you clear?”

“Four.” The young man answered immediately. “Dude had an agenda. He wasn’t coming back until he had everything on his list.”

“Oh! Here!” Maggie grabbed a thick winter coat and held it out. “He said you needed this. It was one of the things he refused to come back without.”

You were still stunned, swallowing it down behind feigned delight. “Okay, gimme some of those clothes.”

Daryl was leaning against a tree when you found him. You were in much warmer clothes and bundled deep inside the warm jacket that left plenty of room for the belly you’d be sporting soon enough. 

“Hey.” You greeted. He didn’t turn but grunted in reply. “Thanks for this.” You watched his eyes slide over when you gestured to the coat. 

“Warm enough?” 

“I feel like I am legitimately baking a bun in the oven.” You smiled brightly when he deadpanned at you with a mumbled stop. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For this,” you pulled up your sleeves to show him the anti-nausea bracelet, “and for this.”

He glanced over but then back out to the quiet wooded area. “It workin’?” 

You shrugged. “I threw up lunch but then I’ve kept water down so far.” His blue eyes finally turned to you and studied, sliding down and back, before he jerked his chin up in a nod and looked away yet again. Something was bothering him. That much was obvious. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” Daryl reached for the bag at his feet, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He opened one end and pulled a pack free before dropping the box back into the bag. You could hear the plastic tear and the flick of the zippo but your eyes were on something else. 

Breaking the Cycle of Abuse: How to Move Beyond Your Past to Create an Abuse-free Future

You didn’t notice him move until he was zipping the bag with more force than necessary, moving it out of your sight as if you had X-ray vision. 

“You won’t be like them.” You didn’t know who had hurt him. Though he’d allowed you to see him without the thin armor of his shirt, he hadn’t offered any information. Not that there had been time. He sent you off to bed, took watch alone, and he was already gone before you even woke up. 

He took a long drag off the cigarette. “Don’t act like ya know anythin’ ‘bout it.” He stated evenly, smoke flowing from his mouth behind every word. It was difficult but you didn’t let his words sting. 

“I really don’t. My daddy was amazing. My mom wasn’t a monster. She was just—weak. Never had a boyfriend hit me or anything.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder but he shrugged it off. “But I can listen if you want to talk about it.”

“Nah. Ain’t needin’ my head shrunk.”

You noticed immediately that he gave no indication as to any of the people you mentioned being the one in his life to hurt him. There was so much you didn’t know about Daryl. So much he didn’t know about you. If one of you died after the baby came, how could the other possibly tell the story of the other parent with so many missing pieces. 

“Daryl?”

“What?” The archer didn’t snap at you but there was an underlying annoyance that you couldn’t miss if you tried. 

You sighed. “Nothing.” Tell me everything. “I think there should be food ready if we head back now. Corned beef hash, if I read the can correctly.” What are we?

“Ain’t hungry but you g’on. Ya need to eat. Need the food just s’much as the baby does.” It was a valiant but failed effort to offer you his portion of the meal. 

“You need it too.” Daryl looked so tired but it wasn’t just physical exhaustion. He had been racking his brain for anything that could make your life easier now and after the birth. A break was necessary. “And you need to sleep.”

“Said I ain’t hungry. Ain’t tired neither.”

“Bullshit.” Your patience was wearing thin, whether from hormones or just the simple grating of his petulance on your last nerve. “Not gonna beg you. Do what you want but I would feel a hell of a lot better if you’d take as much care of yourself as you try to for me and the baby.” You made a show of stomping away, hoping that he’d see how he was affecting you. 

The warmth of the fire began warming you within the coat before you had fully reached it. Carol was already filling a bowl for you and holding it out by the time you sat down. “Thank you.” The woman smiled and nodded, returning her focus to her own helping. You took a moment to regard the state of your stomach. It was uneasy, but only slightly. The abundant smells of food, burning wood, and a hint of body odor from close proximity weren’t making it worse. You decided to take the risk and shoveled a bite into your mouth. 

You had managed less than a third of the bowl when Daryl emerged from the shadows, nodding at Rick when they passed one another, the latter taking up watch with his bowl in hand. The hunter’s crossbow was placed on the ground before he took a seat next to you, your shoulders nearly touching. It was a gesture of vulnerability that the group either didn’t pick up on or didn’t care enough to acknowledge. But you did. 

Your bowl was placed in front of your criss-crossed legs so you could reach out and silently beckon Carol to fill another. Nodding your thanks, you offered it to Daryl, smiling in the face of his sneer. He wasn’t unaffected by your blatant desire to care for him, his distaste evident but not aggressive. He accepted the food and wasted no time before digging in, visibly forcing himself not to inhale the meal. 

He had been hungry. An invisible force squeezed your heart. He was already making sacrifices for his family, regardless of wherever it was the two of you stood. He was choosing you as a priority, eager for your health and comfort at the cost of his own. You’d have to watch him or he’d run himself into the ground. 

There wasn’t much left after a single serving for everyone but it was an unspoken agreement that what remained would be for you, Lori, or Carl. You managed to make it through most of your own serving, adding a little more on top while leaving enough for the kid and his mom to split the rest. You forced another two bites to at least support the appearance of initially wanting more. You hadn’t. You did want the archer to have more. He was careful to conceal it but you knew without asking that he had either trimmed his own portions of the few meals the group had managed or turned it down all together. And that simply wouldn’t do. 

You maneuvered your bowl above his in preparation to rake what you hadn’t eaten on top of what he was still working through. He pulled back, brow furrowed. “Eyes were bigger than my appetite.” You shrugged. 

“Give it to one’a them.” Daryl jerked his chin across the fire, holding your gaze while taking another bite. 

“There’s enough left for them. I want you to have this.” The tension that followed was brief. He gave in rather easily, offering his bowl with a heaved sigh. You didn’t gloat and spooned the rest out for him. “Thank you.” He replied with a grunt that really could have been interpreted as a growl. 

A promise was made to Carol to help her clean the mismatched bowls in the morning. You were tired; slightly nauseated and, for once, eager to close your eyes. Still, something bothered you. 

During dinner, you noticed the fine, almost imperceptible shivering. Despite his natural ability to act as a human space heater, Daryl was cold. He wore only his vest, long sleeve button up, and a tank top beneath. You pushed to your feet, feeling his eyes follow you. The supplies had been separated and placed into different backpacks, forcing you to go through three of them to find the blankets. Some were small receiving blankets while others were thick, large fabrics. You grabbed two of those and then one of the blankets for the adults. Those were limited to one per person, having been hard to find. 

You returned to his side without a word. The largest blanket was soon spread over the ground. You hoped he would take the hint and share the blanket, sparing him from the cold forest floor. 

Daring to push your luck, you took one of the larger baby blankets and spread it over his shoulders. Daryl tensed with a spoonful of food hovering just over the bowl, trembling so hard that clumps were falling back into the bowl. You watched his eyes dart from person to person, lingering on Carol as she smiled around her spoon. She kept her eyes straight ahead but had obviously seen your actions. 

The archer deflated slightly, pushing what remained on the utensil past his lips. You sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving ample room for him to just shift over and lie down if he wanted. You, on the other hand, nearly collapsed onto your back before rolling onto your side to grab the other blanket. Your torso was warm under the jacket but the chill of the night air was still biting at your legs. Making sure they were adequately covered, you used one arm as a pillow, not even trying to fight the heavy call of sleep. 

In the haze of exhaustion, you faintly registered the warm body against your back and the gentle squeeze of a hand on your hip. 

The weather only became colder as the days wore on. The dead moved slower but in groups that grew larger, desperately in search of living flesh. There hadn’t been a single living soul in three weeks.  Everyone had moved on. And that meant that every stop had been cleaned out of anything useful. Anything vital to survival. 

Hershel did what he could to ensure that you and the baby remained as healthy as possible. Without the proper equipment, there was little he could do beyond checking your pulse, taking approximate measurements of your stomach. You took the meds when Daryl could find them; changed the bracelet when the one you wore didn’t seem to be as effective. Hershel would administer IV fluids as often as he dared while in constant motion to stay ahead of the gathering herds. At times you wondered if you or the baby would even survive after all. 

At twenty one weeks, you had most definitely—as Lori had put it—popped. While malnutrition and the complications you suffered ensured you struggled to maintain any sort of healthy weight, the small roundness of your abdomen remained prominent. Despite Daryl's protests, you continued to ride behind him on the bike, the bump pressed against his back, the only time you felt like you could offer any true safety for your baby. Protected by their father from the weather, the walkers. 

From the world. 

The current stop saw you vomiting beside the porch of the home the group was searching. Daryl was with you, quiet, one hand on your back and the other holding any hair away from your face. 

“Doc should give ya some’a them fluids.” His suggestion came quietly against your ear after you sagged against him. 

“Maybe at the next stop.” That was always your reply. Even when the archer had to pull the bike off the road for you to retch and heave. Maybe at the next stop.

You didn’t want to be the reason the group was held up. You continued to hold on until your legs buckled and your head clouded, always waking up with tubing in your arm and a worried bowman’s face hovering over yours. 

This was most likely going to be one of those times. You angled your head to look at him, his tired gaze on the front of your coat. The large size ensured the swell remained hidden. You both preferred it that way. If you ran into any hostile living, it wouldn’t be something that could be used as leverage. 

“How ‘bout this stop?” It wasn’t a request. Still, the command was strained at best. Daryl looked exhausted and drawn, years older than just two weeks before. 

There was still nothing defined about what the two of you had. He slept behind you at night, putting himself between you and any possible entrance, the curves of his body fitting into yours. His hand never ventured past where your hip met your stomach. There had been nothing sexual since the first night on the road, not even a kiss. 

The two of you never discussed where you stood. It was as if you just were. Together but not. Maybe he never wanted to discuss it because he was afraid of how badly he felt he was failing you. How he felt he was a terrible father before the kid had even taken their first breath. The times you had tried to reassure him, he had snatched up his crossbow and skulked away to hunt, a quiet bark of watch her to Carol. 

You didn’t offer him any of those reassurances that night. You preferred to have him close to you, that barrier between your baby and the world, instead of wondering if the sight of his back as he walked away would be the last you would see of him. 

As you laid there on top of your blanket in the run down house, IV fluids flowing into the back of your hand and Daryl breathing quietly at your back while his fingers flexed over the bony junction of your hip, you startled to feel the small flutter inside the swell of your belly. You carefully moved your hand over where the sensation originated, not wanting to alert Daryl just yet. Hershel had told you that the first movements would likely only be felt on the inside. 

That was indeed the case. Still you held your breath after each flutter, awaiting the next with tears flowing across your nose and down your temple. 

Your baby was moving. 

“Daryl.” 

His fingers stilled. “Hmm?”

“They’re moving.” You shifted to look over your shoulder at him. He had slightly raised his head, his brow furrowed. He looked over his own shoulder toward the people sleeping behind him. The only one up was Rick, his gun on his lap while his gaze was trained on the door. 

“Who’s movin’?” He looked so, so tired and your heart shattered, as it did anytime you looked at him lately. 

But this wasn’t the time for heavy hearts. 

“The baby. They’re moving.”

The change in the archer was gradual. Understanding finally blossomed in his expression, the dull veil that had glossed over his pretty blue eyes washed away with the wetness of his unshed tears. You gently wrapped your fingers around his and pulled his hand toward your belly, parting your coat so he could touch your warm skin with chilled fingers. You both knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it, but it didn’t stop him from crumbling, burying his face in your hair. You remained unsure if he was crying, even his stuttering breaths completely untelling. 

Still, his fingers squeezed yours over where your baby moved. 

And for one brief moment, the world around you was beautiful. 

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #pregnant!reader

[lovers-rck]

bubble gum

summary ellie hids something in her notebook

content friends to lovers, ellie williams x fem!reader

☆

"do you want to see that movie that i told you about?"

you make a face, looking at the weird pink thing on the ceiling "is that gum?"

ellie follow your gaze and cringe "i don't know what you are talking about"

"that, on your ceiling"

"there's nothing in the ceiling" she says, avoiding your gaze and playing with her pen.

"yeah there is!" you replie "look there"

"maybe you are high"

"what? that makes zero... whatever"

ellie's face displays a victorious smile as she keeps drawing in her sketchbook "so... you want to see that movie? jesse told me that was super scary"

you were laying down in ellie's bed, outside was raining. you kept looking at the gum in the ceiling as you scrunched your nose "i don't know. im not in the mood for a scary movie"

ellie rolled her eyes. she had already seen the movie, but maybe if she pretended not to have seen it before to watch it with you maybe, just maybe, you would snuggle up to her in the scary parts. or whatever.

"pussy" she murmurs. her pencil traces long sketches on the rough paper

"you are so annoying" you say as you sit in the bed, finger brushing your hair "what are you drawing?"

ellie shakes her head "nothing" she is sitting at the head of the bed, with her back against the wall. some thread of hair are resting in her face, tickling her skin, and you have the urge to put those annoying locks behind her ear.

but you don't.

"let me see" you say

you crawl between the sheets, sitting across from ellie, who is holding the sketchbook strangely tightly.

"it's just doodles"

"okay" you replie "i want to see them"

"is shit"

"all your work is shit to you" you rolled your eyes "i never get to see your drawings"

"you are so noisy, has anyone ever told you that?" ellie says

you stick out your tongue playfully and when ellie laughs you grab her sketchbook quickly. ellie is quick too and lunges at you, your body getting pinned between the mattress and ellie's body.

you two become a jumble of wrestling arms and hands "give it back" ellie yells, half laughing half angry "no!" you scream, holding the sketchbook above your head "bitch!" you yell when ellie bites your shoulder

you hear ellie's laugh and take that opportunity to open the sketchbook above her head, where she can't reach in that position.

you always wanted to see what ellie did in that notebook, always curled up in the pages sketching something. you noticed how she always carried a pen and that notebook everywhere she goes, drawing something time to time.

so your surprise is genuine when you go through the pages and find various drawings of you.

you laughing with jesse. you with some dogs. you and that stupid frog stuffed animal she gave you. you smiling. and the most recent sketch, half way finished; you laying down in her bed, just like you were a couple minutes ago.

the drawings are beautiful, quickly but really good studies of you. if you squint your eyes a bit, you can see where she erased some lines to redraw them more accurately.

you flinch when ellie's hand interrupt your surprise by grabbing and closing the notebook. she moves away from you and you sit down.

ellie is sitting a couple inches away from you, avoiding your gaze and hugging that sketchbook like a kid hugging her favorite toy.

your lack of words was not exactly due to the drawings. you knew that this was normal and that ellie used to draw people she knew, you were in moments where she decided to walk away and draw the moment, immortalizing it on paper.

your lack of words was due to what the scribbles and words around the drawings meant. little hearts, short confessions of love and silly doodles were the things your eyes could decipher in the short seconds you held the notebook in your hands.

"ellie"

"i told you that they were stupid drawings" she replied, her voice tinged with rage and shame.

she felt idiot. too idiot to fall in love with her friend . too dumb to draw her friend when she was distracted, trying to capture every tiny detail that make you special with a stupid pen in a stupid notebook. too idiot to think about you in that way.

"they are not" you murmur

"yes they are" she feels so ashamed "i should throw this thing to the trash can"

you feel how angry and ashamed she is and your mind just can think of the dumbest or smartest response that has ever you occurred.

so you kiss her.

you fingertips feel the soft skin of her cheeks as you press your lips against hers. you don't move, too afraid to do something, so for a couple of seconds your lips just stay there, warming eachothers flesh.

when you feel that you had made the stupidest decision ever you move away, panicking and mumbling sorry's. your hands leaves ellie's cheeks, to embarrassed to even look at her.

"im sorry" you murmur "im sorry ellie. i don't know who gave me the right to do that. im sorry" you look at the door of her room "maybe i should go. sorry"

but before you can go, ellie kisses you back. her grip is more stronger that yours, her hand resting in the back of your head, moving you against her.

she moves her lips this time. her mouth moves against yours, deepening the kiss quickly. hungry.

she pushes you closer to her, moving you in a way that you end up in her lap, with your hands in her neck, kissing her like your life depends on it.

you can feel the same response from her. her hands are everywhere, squeezing and touching and caressing every part of your body as fast as she can, too excited to keep her hands in one place.

a few moments later you move away from your mouth, searching for air. she looks at you.

everything is very awkward for a couple of seconds before you two start laughing.

ellie's chest moves as she laughs with embarrassment "god" she mouths

you laugh too "confessing your love for me trough drawings" you say "fucking drama queen"

ellie hide her face with her hands "shut up. im embarrassed"

"as you should"

"idiot" she murmurs, taking her hands off her face "can i kiss you again?"

you roll your eyes.

but you nod.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams lesbian #lesbians #friends to lovers #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie the last of us

[theeoriginals]

Idea: Reader is part of the scooby gang (an adult doing them a favour or something - pls not a teenager it makes me cringe) and Klaus catches her staring (because obviously) and is cocky and flirty and likes riling her up

i just like you | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this was so fun omfg i love him sm

warnings: honestly sort of grumpyxsunshine but somehow klaus is the sunshine here ? teasing, taunting, klaus is a flirty menace, reader is super in denial, implied that reader is a vampire hunter but it's not really important, also this exists in some sort of strange canon universe so don't read into it too much, fluff, making out, a steamy-ish scene at the end, but it doesn't get too graphic so don't worry! no use of y/n!

She doesn’t like owing people favors. She doesn’t like when other people owe her favors, either, but people seem to think that trading things off is the best way to live, and she’s hardly got the power to change something so universally accepted. 

She doesn’t like owing people favors, but in this case, it’s not something she can renegotiate. Alaric saved her life, and the least she could do is help him out with something. 

Her view on that changes very quickly when he looks at her and tells her they want her to make a deal with the devil. In fact, she’d rather Alaric had just let her die than ask her to do anything with or for Klaus Mikaelson. 

“I would quite literally rather die than do that, Ric,” She deadpans, givin him a completely unamused look that makes him grimace. 

“No, I know, I know,” He holds his hands up, a desperation to his pleading tone. “It’s a lot to ask of you, but no one else can deal with him like you do. They’d end up dead, or something,” 

“Why do you think I can deal with him any differently than you, or Damon, or something? I hate him just as much!” 

“Oh, well, that’s just not very nice of you, darling,” The man in question drawls, smirk audible in his voice as they look over to where he’s sitting on Alaric’s couch, looking like he practically lives there. She supposes he technically did, for a minute. “Hate is such a strong word.” 

She gives him a saccharine smile, tilting her head. “I’m so sorry, Klaus, did I hurt your feelings? I didn’t know that evil hybrids who kill anyone who breathes wrong could have feelings.” 

Klaus’s smirk only widens at her visible ire, and he props his chin up on his hand as he looks at her. “I have every feeling for you, sweetheart,” 

Her eyes momentarily widen to the size of dinner plates, and then she quickly schools her expression back into a flat glare, snapping her gaze away from him as she huffs unhappily. “You want me to deal with that all day, Alaric? By myself? I thought we were friends,” 

“We are friends,” He stresses, shooting Klaus a warning look that the Original dutifully ignores. “That’s why I’m asking you to do this. All you have to do is make the drive up to Whitmore and get the rest of Isobel’s stuff– we need to see if she has any information on the cure, or anything like that.” 

“Doesn’t Bonnie have that professor guy that was telling her a bunch of stuff? Can’t we just go to him?” 

“Damon doesn’t trust that guy,” Alaric says. “And before you ask, no, you can’t make Damon go. He and Klaus will kill each other if they’re in the same vehicle for that long.” 

“He’s right about that,” Klaus says, still happily in his place on the couch. “Damon’s got such a temper these days. Can’t even handle a joke anymore.” 

She scrunches her face up, giving him an incredulous look. “The only jokes you make are about the time you tried to kill Elena,” 

“How would we cope if we couldn’t make jokes about these sorts of things?” 

Her incredulity only deepens and she drags her gaze back to Alaric pointedly, earning an exhausted sigh from the teacher. “Klaus,” He starts, that same desperation still in his voice. “Can we all just play nice? For once we have something to be united about– could you possibly not jeopardize everyone’s lives again?” 

Klaus heaves a sigh, standing from the couch in a swift movement and crossing the short distance to where they stand. “Certainly. I’m nothing if not professional, you know this.” 

“Uh huh,” Alaric deadpans. “Can you be… professional enough to not provoke her into leaving you stranded somewhere, or something?” 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” The hybrid drops his gaze to hers, bright eyes alight with mischief. “So long as she stops pouting.” 

She huffs, dutifully not pouting. Narrowing her eyes, she offers a hand out to him, ignoring the amusement that sparks in his eyes at her formalness. “It’s for the greater good of all of us, right? I’m sure I can suffer through anything for that.” 

Klaus shakes her hand firmly, and she ignores the way it feels like he’s laughing at her. “I’m sure you can.” 

────── 

“I take it all back, I’m going to murder him, and then myself.” 

“Hello to you, too. I take it it’s going well?” Alaric’s voice comes through the speaker of her phone as she walks beside Klaus, ignoring the crowds of college students they’re pushing their way past to head to Isobel’s old office. 

“Oh, it’s going so well, besides the fact that our vehicle just broke down as soon as we got to Whitmore.” 

She can practically hear Alaric’s wince of sympathy through the phone. “Can’t Klaus just compel you another vehicle?” 

“You would think so, but I already tried that, and he said it wouldn’t be very cooperative of him to take advantage of people. He’s apparently all for the teamwork these days,” She shoots him a glare, face twisting into one of disdain when all he does is give her a wide smirk. “Alaric, I cannot be stranded here with him. It was one thing if it was a few hours, but I cannot survive any longer than that.” 

Alaric breathes out her name on an exasperated sigh, and she tries to ignore the slight pin prick of guilt that stabs at her because of it. “Have you called a mechanic or anything?” 

She bites the tip of her tongue roughly. “Yeah. They’re coming to tow it, and they said it’ll be like, tomorrow morning at the earliest before it’s done.” 

“Can you survive the night? For real? Or do you want me to drive up there and get you?” 

She nearly blurts out that she won’t survive, that he needs to come get her as soon as he leaves work, but she stops herself, eyes drifting to Klaus, who seems to be awaiting her answer as well. Sighing tiredly, she shakes her head, even though Alaric can’t see her. “I’ll be fine, I’m just being dramatic. Don’t worry about me, alright? I– Klaus and I will handle this. It’s no big deal, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” She reassures, stopping at the steps that lead to Isobel’s office building. “I’ll text you later tonight after we’ve had some time to go through some of the stuff, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you,” He sounds infinitely less stressed at her reassurances, and the guilt she’d been feeling dissipates easily. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

She echoes the goodbye and quickly pockets her phone again, immediately turning to Klaus to give him a glare that she can’t even really call a glare because of the complete and utter lack of any real heat behind it. Gesturing widely to the building before them, she sighs. “Let’s get this over with.” 

The office is devoid of any lingering students, and she wonders if it was done on purpose. The only person there besides her and Klaus is the girl at the desk, and she racks her brain for the girl’s name, because Alaric had told her earlier before they left. 

“Hi,” She starts, stepping in front of Klaus slightly as they approach the desk. “Alaric called earlier and said we’d be coming up to get some of Isobel’s research, I think?” 

The girl stands, a small smile on her face as she nods. “Of course. I’m Vanessa, I was Isobel’s intern.” 

Vanessa, she internally scolds herself for not remembering, before giving her name back in return. “And this is Klaus.” 

The Original offered a charming smile, and she saw some degree of recognition flutter in Vanessa’s eyes as her smile grew wider, equally charmed and awed. “Lovely to meet you, Vanessa,” 

“You’re Klaus Mikaelson, aren’t you?” She breathes out, shaking her head in disbelief as she leads them to Isobel’s private office. “Isobel was fascinated  with the story of the Originals, but there wasn’t ever enough information to figure out what was true and what wasn’t.” 

Klaus hums, practically preening under the attention. “Such are the consequences of living as long as I have. I can hardly remember what’s real and what’s not,” 

Vanessa’s face lights up with an idea, and she steps towards Klaus excitedly. “Would you mind if I asked you some questions? It would do our research a lot of good to have something new,” 

“Oh, well–” 

“We have a lot to do,” She quickly cuts in over their voices, offering a sharp smile to Vanessa. “But if we have time later, I’m sure he’d love to give you a tell-all interview.” 

Vanessa’s smile dims slightly but she nods, gesturing for them to go into the open office. “It’s all in there. Let me know if you need my help with anything.” 

“We will definitely do that,” She says, ignoring the twitch in her fingers as pushes Klaus into the office ahead of her. “Thank you so much!” 

She shuts the door firmly behind her and lets out a sharp sigh, her eyes fluttering open where she hadn’t even realized they’d shut. She finds Klaus staring at her, and immediately looks away, ducking past him to head for one of the packed boxes in the office, collecting dust. “What?” 

Klaus makes an amused little hum in the back of his throat. “Oh, nothing,”

“There’s clearly something,” 

“There is, but I don’t think you’d enjoy hearing it from me,” 

She halts her movements, hands falling limp on the file folders sorted neatly inside one box. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she raises a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m curious as to what Vanessa did to earn your disdain,” He says, shrugging lightly, keeping his voice purposefully aloof. 

She rolls her eyes, returning to pilfering through the box, skimming the labels on the file. “She was distracting you. We came here to do something, and we need to do it. That’s all.” 

He makes that irritating noise again, and she pauses once more, this time turning to face him fully. “What? What is so funny about that? Might I remind you, we need to learn about this cure for you just as much as anyone else.” 

He smirks, picking up a box from the floor and putting it on the table in front of him. “Of course. But only if you admit you were jealous,”

She feels the blood in her veins freeze as she stares at him, and she knows there’s a dawning look of horror growing on her face. “Excuse me?” 

“Just admit that you were jealous of that poor girl in there, and I will do as much research as you want me to. It’s very simple.” 

“Jealous,” She echoes, her voice faint the longer she looks at him. “You think that I was jealous because some college kid was treating you like you were the lead singer in her favorite boy band?” 

“Maybe not her favorite boy band, but certainly her favorite Original,” He corrects, grinning deviously. 

“I wasn’t jealous!” She yells somewhat hysterically, face twisting as her pulse races. “I– I have no reason to be jealous, I would never be jealous, I’m not– I’m not jealous! Just– shut up!” 

She waves a hand in his direction, ignoring the warmth in her chest that stings like embarrassment. “Just– shut up, and– and leave me alone! Do what we came here to do,” 

Klaus holds his hands up in surrender, still smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Whatever you say,” 

────── 

They’ve booked a hotel for the night, despite the fact that she’d sooner sleep on the street than stay in a hotel with Klaus Mikaelson. But he graciously offered to pay for it, and she was determined to pretend like their conversation earlier had never happened and that meant acting like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

It meant letting him order them room service, and sitting quietly while they ate. It meant letting him tease and taunt her like he normally did, and working overtime to give him the normal reactions she would have– a glare here and there, a not-so-nice name everywhere else. 

Except now it felt like it was all wrong. It felt like she was being even more obvious than before. All because he called her out. Because he was right. 

Just out of sheer principle, she couldn’t ever tell him that. The last thing he needed was that particular ego boost, from her of all people. 

Their relationship has always been antagonistic, but Klaus has never been nearly as harsh as she has. And now that she’s spent the last six hours thinking about every single interaction they’ve ever had, she feels somewhat stupid for not even letting herself contemplate the idea that she could one day be jealous over Klaus Mikaelson. 

But even in that same vein, she understands why it never crossed her mind until he pointed it out. It was non-negotiable, having any sort of relationship like that with Klaus. She’d been friends with Alaric since he first met Isobel, she couldn’t just go and sleep with the guy who killed his girlfriend, let alone have feelings for him. 

The thought alone made her stomach swirl with guilt, but she was determined to not let Klaus in on any of her inner turmoil, considering he’d get some insane satisfaction out of the fact that it’s all his fault. 

By the time they make their way to the private bedroom in the ridiculously grand hotel room Klaus had gotten them for the night, it doesn’t really register in her mind that they not only don’t have any sort of pajamas due to the fact that this wasn’t supposed to be an overnight trip, but the only bedroom in the suite has one bed. 

It doesn’t register in her mind until she’s already in bed, resigned to the fact that she’ll be sleeping in her t-shirt and underwear, and Klaus makes his way over to the bed like it’s no big deal. 

“Hey, hey, what the hell are you doing?” 

He raises a brow at her, gesturing to the bed. “Going to bed. We’ve got an early morning ahead of us if you have any chance of making it back to Mystic Falls alive.” 

She rolls her eyes at his taunting recollection of her complaints, and she holds up a hand, keeping the blankets tucked carefully around her hips as she sits up. “Why wouldn’t you get a room with two beds?” 

“Because it’s one night, darling,” He drawls, signature smirk twitching on his lips. “But if you have some particular feeling that would make sharing a bed with me uncomfortable, then I–”

“No!” She cuts him off, feeling like she was just backed into a corner. “No issue. Just– keep your hands to yourself.” 

He winks at her, and she ignores the way it makes her heart race. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” 

She shuffles back down into the bed and turns onto her side away from him, suddenly too conscious of the fact that she doesn’t have any pants on, and that if someone had told her this morning she’d be pantsless, in bed with Klaus Mikaelson, she probably would’ve punched them and then spent the rest of her life dreaming about it. 

It’s only slightly humiliating. 

Once Klaus is settled in the bed, presumably undressed to the same degree she is if the shuffling she’d heard a minute ago was anything to go by, he turns the lamp off, encasing them in darkness. 

After too long, her hip starts to ache the longer she lays on her side, and she knows there’s no chance she’ll fall asleep with it throbbing like it is, so she resigns herself to the fact that she’s going to have to move. 

Careful of her spacial awareness, she turns onto her back, and then onto her other side, unable to stop her eyes from landing on the shadows of Klaus’s profile. 

She lets out a small breath, shakier than normal, and clutches her hand against the pillow beneath her head. 

“You’re staring,” 

She groans quietly. “I am not,” 

“You know, I don’t know if I should be honored or not that you don’t act like this with anyone else.” 

She squeezes the pillow again, brows furrowing on her forehead. Her curiosity piqued, despite her best interests. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re horrifically antagonistic on a good day, and downright murderous on a bad one. But you don’t ever lose your temper with anyone else like you do with me,” He observes, voice unintentionally quiet in the privacy of the darkness. If she didn’t know any better, she’d even say it was laced with fondness. 

Pressing her face into her pillow briefly to try and collect herself, she lets her eyes trace the curve of his nose, and his prominent cupid’s bow, backlit by the moon shining in the window. She wonders what he looks like beneath a full moon. She wonders if his eyes shine that burning yellow-gold color the entire night. 

“You do it on purpose,” She mutters, trying to keep her tone from sounding as childish as it does in her head. “I’m not stupid, Klaus. You like riling me up.” 

She hears more than sees his head turn towards her, but she feels the burn of his eyes on her face like the summer sun. 

“Did you ever consider that I just like when you talk to me?” He asks, sounding entirely more vulnerable than she ever thought he was capable of being. 

Her breath stutters on an exhale, and she knows he can hear the way his words make her entire body trip up. Despite being unable to truly meet his eyes in the dark, she searches for them anyway, seeking out the truth that may lie in them. 

He murmurs her name, soft and sweet between the sheets wrapped around them, and she can’t stop herself from pushing forward into his space, draping herself across his chest as she presses their lips together. 

She’s instantly satisfied to hear the shocked noise that spills from his lips, but it’s the last coherent thought she can form once he mirrors her utter desperation. 

He steals the breath from her lungs, barely letting her gasp between his greedy kisses, his hands pulling her further into him, leaving her practically on top of him. 

His hands slide up the fabric of her shirt, grabbing at the bare skin there, groaning at the feel of her moving beneath his touch. 

“Klaus,” She gasps out, panting at the spit-slick sounds of their lips together in the quiet of the hotel room. “Klaus, I have to–” 

She forcibly pulls herself away from him, unable to even blame him for the way she let herself get so caught up as she catches her breath, looking down from where she’s propped above him. 

They fall silent, matching each other’s frantic but slowing breaths as their spilled-over tension finally seems to simmer out. 

A huff of a laugh comes from beneath her and she frowns slightly, looking at him. “What?” 

His hands clench where they’re still gripping her waist, and she visibly shivers at the rough touch. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” 

She instinctively slaps a hand against his bare shoulder, wondering how she hadn’t noticed he’d taken his shirt off when he got into bed. “You are such a dick,” She shakes her head, but she’s already leaning back in to kiss him again despite herself. 

Klaus is quick to meet her halfway, craning his neck up to kiss her again, and she lets out a sudden yelp as he flips them around, pressing her into the mattress beneath him. “Let me make it up to you,” 

She’s nodding before he even finishes speaking, and she thinks, tells herself, that she can’t be faulted for how quickly she forgives him after that.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson smut #alaric saltzman #tvd #tvd fic recs #the originals fic rec #the originals imagine #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson

[froggibus]

The Mark of Greed - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: mammon can’t help but notice that you refuse to talk about his pact mark, and he’s determined to find out why

CW: hurt/comfort, angst, violence (reader gets attacked by demons), mutual pining, self deprecating thoughts, arguing/yelling, angsty! Mammon, love confessions, misunderstandings

i definitely did not write all of this at 3am. nope. idk i had this image in my head of soft! Mammon tracing your pact mark and telling you he loves you so here it is lol. i got super carried away and ended up making this super long too oops

————

The best kept secret in the Devildom, aside from Satan’s pet cat, was your pact mark. Not just any pact mark—no, it was the shimmering gold one that marked Greed. Right from the day you got it, you knew you should keep it hidden. 

Always wearing clothes to strategically cover it, lying, deflecting and giving different answers every time someone would ask. Mammon watched all this, and said nothing. Sure, it was a little funny, but it also made him wonder. 

Did you hate him? Was the mark of greed as awful as he always thought it was? Was his touch so ugly and toxic that you didn’t want anyone to know about it? 

Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe there was something wrong with him. You were so open about your pacts with his brothers, gladly showing them the swirling coloured patterns that marked your body. You showed them off unashamedly, proudly displaying the marks as part of yourself. 

It made him jealous, really. You were his human. You were his first. His pact was your first—so why did you hate it so much? He always pegged envy as Leviathan’s emotion, but the more he watched, the more he realized his turmoil was enough to rival the otaku himself. 

You first notice Mammon withdrawing after you show a demon in class your pact mark with Beel. An orange sigil just above your belly button that you displayed proudly with crop tops and bathing suits. You could feel Mammon’s eyes on you the whole time, watching you as you explained the beauty behind the mark. 

“It’s not just cause he’s the Avatar of Gluttony,” you explain, fingers tracing the orange outline. “But it also relies on emotions. In this case, the comfort he brings me is like having a full stomach. It sits right at my core because he’s my support.”

You swear you see blue eyes roll to your left, but you shrug it off. He’s probably just upset because Lucifer confiscated Goldie again. Still, you can’t help but think he’s jealous of the way you’re talking about Beel. 

When you walk home later that day, Mammon is short with you. He barely acknowledges you or responds to anything you say, instead he slumps his shoulders and shrugs you off. 

“Mammon, is everything okay? You seem…upset,” you note. 

“The Great Mammon? Upset?” He tsks, “maybe your time in the Devildom has made you dumber, y/n.” 

“I was just checking on you…”

You don’t wait for him to say anything else and instead throw open the front door and stomp to your room in silence. If he wants to be a jerk, you’ll let him be a jerk. 

You practically throw your backpack across the room and slump on your bed. One of your pact marks aches and the thought makes you cringe. Of course it’s that one. 

Ever since you got it, you’ve tried so hard to keep it hidden. Not even telling Mammon himself where it is. I mean, if he knew, what would he even say? You could almost hear his voice in your head telling you that you’re delusional to think you could ever be with him, dismissing your feelings and breaking your heart. 

You get up and sit in front of the mirror, pulling off your shirt so that you can examine your skin. There, sitting above your heart, is the golden mark of Greed. You trace it lightly. It’s always been your favorite, the colour and the design by far the prettiest. You just wish it wasn’t where it was. 

When you first got the mark, when you felt it sear itself into your skin, you knew what it meant. It was a visual representation of the butterflies in your stomach and the clenching in your heart every time you saw the Avatar of Greed. 

Still, you found yourself flipping through the pages of Satan’s personal collection. You honestly hoped it was just random, a weird coincidence or a mistake—but the books said otherwise. They confirmed your fear. 

When the others started to make pacts with you, you worried the same thing would happen. That they would show up in the same place or worse. You can still remember the immense relief you felt when you made your pact with Levi and have the mark show up on your thigh. 

Levi was so excited to ask about his mark and when you let him touch it? He almost exploded. That was the first time Mammon asked you about his mark, and it was the first time you lied to him. 

You groan in frustration and pull your shirt back on, trying to blink away the image of his branding. A part of you always wanted to tell him, to show him and have him touch it. But the other part couldn’t get it out of your head that you’re just a burden to him. You’re his responsibility and that’s the only reason he hangs around you. 

You only wish things could be simpler. 

—

Mammon slams the door to his room and sinks down against it. He tugs on his white hair so hard it hurts, but the pain isn’t enough to wash away the frustration bubbling in his chest. 

Why did he have to be so mean to you?

Maybe if he was nicer you wouldn’t hate him or his pact mark. Maybe if he was nicer to you he might actually have a chance of being with you. 

The sound of his voice rings in his ears, echoing off his skull. He hates it. He hates how mean he was to you, and the guilt eats him up. 

Finally, it becomes too much and he forces himself to his feet. He should apologize to you. Because Lucifer would kill him if he knew how mean he was being…not for any other reason. 

You open the door to see him standing in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?” 

“I—Lucifer would be mad at me if I didn’t apologize to you,” he says, eyes focused on his shoes. “‘N I don’t wanna be strung up tonight so I’m sorry human.”

“It’s fine. Just—why were you so upset earlier, anyways?”

He shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding eye contact with you. How can he tell you that he’s jealous and angry that you don’t want to show off your pact mark? It’ll make him sound like a little kid. 

“Mammon, come on. It’s just me.”

He sighs, “not that I care but I don’t get why you hate my pact so much.”

You freeze, your blood like ice in your veins. All this time you’d been withdrawing from him, you knew he noticed but because he never said anything, it was easy to ignore. Not anymore. 

“I-I don’t hate it.”

“Then why do you never show anyone?”

“It’s just,” you shrug, “in a weird spot. I don’t know—I don’t hate it. I just don’t want to show it off.”

“Because it’s ugly, right?”

“Mammon—“

“Why would anyone want to be marked by Greed?”

“Mammon—!”

“Imma dirty scumbag anyway. Making a pact with you was the most selfish thing I ever did. Tying you to me for life, why would you ever want that?”

“Mammon, Jesus. Just listen to me!”

The demon stops his self deprecating rant, staring at you expectantly. He doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but all he can hope is for you to tell him that’s it’s not true. That it’s not ugly, that you want to be tied to him. 

Your words fail you. You interrupt his rant and suddenly your mouth goes dry under the gaze of his blue eyes and your words all fall away. Your heart beats a mile a minute, drawing more of your focus to the pact mark that connects the two of you.

You stare at each other for a minute, and then Mammon turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

It takes you a minute to process what just happened, and another minute for you to follow him. By the time you make it to the staircase, he’s already slamming the front door shut behind him. 

Everything is moving so fast. The illusion that you were protecting yourself from Mammon hating you has shattered—replaced by the realization that you’ve been hurting him this whole time. You can’t think of anything except for how to make this right. 

Without thinking about it, you follow him out of the door and into the streets of the Devildom. It’s dark out and you have to squint to see the familiar white hair receding into the distance. You pick up the pace, wanting to catch him before he disappears. 

You’ve never been outside alone before. It’s too dangerous, they always said. But that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. All you want is to make things with him better. 

“Mammon!” You call, heading up the hill behind him. 

When you get to the top, the demon is no longer in sight. You spin around to see if he doubled back to the house, only to realize it’s no longer in sight either. The horrible realization that you’re lost starts to set in and you find yourself reaching into your pocket for your DDD—only to remember you left it in your backpack. 

There’s a hissing noise nearby and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable you are here. Without thinking, you start to run back the way you think you came. You hear two pairs of footsteps behind you, they’re gaining on you. Whatever is chasing you, it’s going to catch you. 

A clawed hand takes your back and hot pain erupts within you. You fall to your knees and scream, warm blood trickling down your back. 

You try to get back up but you’re shaking so badly that your knees refuse to cooperate. There’s two demons behind you, only vaguely humanoid with glowing eyes and flickering tongues. They’re speaking, but not in any language you understand. 

They circle around you, taking some sort of sick amusement in watching their prey cower. One of them lashes out at your chest, three claws slicing the front of your shirt and causing blood to pool down your chest and stomach. 

You reach up to clutch the wounds, your fingertips brushing against the golden pact mark. I’ll never get to tell him how I feel, you realize. 

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tracing your pact mark one last time. 

A jolt of energy rushes through you followed by intense golden light in front of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting until it dims to open them again. When they’re open, you see Mammon in demon form, standing between you and your attackers. 

All it takes is a flick of his hand before they erupt into dust. You knew he was powerful, but seeing him in action only confirmed the fact. 

“Mammon..?”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands frantic as they search you for injury. His fingertips fall on your open shirt and clawed chest. “You’re hurt…”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you mumble. 

“I know.” He says, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

He scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to him. You’re sure your blood is dripping all over him and wrecking his new shoes, but you’re too disoriented to care. 

Mammon sets you down on the counter in the bathroom, “move your hand, alright? I gotta make sure you’re not gonna die.” 

Without thinking about it, you move your blood coated hand off of the pact mark. Mammon slowly peels off your shredded shirt, his eyes going wide when he sees what your hand was covering. 

Somewhat hidden by the blood and fabric yet unmistakable, is a golden mark. Not just any golden mark—his golden mark. His pact mark and its above your heart? 

His hands shake as they brush the outline of it. “My—my pact mark is on your heart?”

You bite your lip and nod slowly, looking anywhere but at him. 

Mammon is in complete disbelief. This whole time he thought his feelings were one sided, that you hated him and hated his pact even more. But to find out that it’s on your heart of all places—right as he almost lost you? He’s almost entirely overwhelmed by his feelings. 

His hands shake the whole time he bandages and disinfects you, his mind only set on the branding above your chest. When he’s done fixing you up, he can’t stop staring at it. 

“You got lucky that the Great Mammon was here to protect you today,” he tries to play it off. 

“I-it was only cause I summoned you with the pact.”

The mention of the pact makes his head spin again. His mouth is suddenly dry and his hands sweaty. 

“Mammon,” you mumble, still unable to look at him, “please say something.”

His voice is low. “Do you know what it means when a pact mark forms over your heart?”

You shake your head, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He reaches out to trace the swirling lines of the mark, his touch featherlight. “It means I’ll always be there for you, y/n.”

His tone is serious, unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. You don’t dare move or interrupt him, wanting to hear what the demon has to say. 

“It means that I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he mumbles. “That I’ll take care of you no matter what. It means that you own me. It means that I—“ he swallows hard, looking at the floor. “I love you, y/n. Now and forever.”

You flinch at his words. They’re all you wanted to hear and yet hearing them has awakened something inside of you. 

Your eyes finally meet his. “You—you really mean it?”

“I love you,” he gently kisses the centre of his mark on your body. “I love you.”

“Mammon,” you say, “I love you.”

Mammon might burst at your words. He reaches up to cup your face, planting a needy kiss on your lips. His touch is desperate, needy, way overdue. You melt into him, his taste so familiar and comforting that you don’t need to think twice about it. 

Mammon smiles against you. If you had asked him a week ago, he would say that his pact with you was the most selfish thing he’s ever done. Looking at you now, though, he sees it as a sigil of his love for you, and what could be more selfless than that?

#obey me x reader #obey me oneshot #obey me x you #obey me fic #mammon #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #mammon avatar of greed #mammon angst #obey me headcanons #obey me #house of lamentation #obey me devildom

[callme-holly]

Yoo, like the fic you did of tim in readers house, and shes trying to get him out.

could you possibly do maybe a blurb or fic of having two-bit in readers rrom and them getting caught with their clothes still off? But they didnt do anything, they were just changing and readers brothers (curtis's) think they did smth🤨🤔😏😏

In reality they were just cuddling (as a couple not besties) and two-bit gets chases out the house, and reader is super embarrased.

I think this would be a really funny fix, LMAOO

Then at the end reader is SUPER embarrased, and they both get teased by thr gang in the afternoon. (bc this is in the mroning, like the tim sitch)

if you dont wanna do this ask, its alr!! Love ur work btw!!♥♥♥

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 [𝐭𝐰𝐨-𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐱 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which two-bit mathews isn't the most subtle boyfriend

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - it's been a little while but i'm back ya'll. kinda considering going on a long break bc i was unsure if anybody actually read my shit but im in too deep now!! asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.4k words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing

A cool breeze swept in through your open window, and the sun was already high in the sky, casting long shadows that stretched from corner to corner of the bedroom. The curtains are open just enough for a ray of light to slip through, warming the sleep-rumpled sheets pooled around you. 

Beside you, with his arm draped lazily around your waist, lies Two-Bit Mathews, his rust-coloured hair sticking up at a variety of odd angles, his lips parted ever so slightly as he sleeps soundly. He looks unusually peaceful, and you take a second to admire him, gently tracing the freckles dusted across his bare shoulders with the pads of your fingers. There’s a small scar just above his brow, barely visible beneath the messy strands covering it, but you know it’s there all the same. It’s just one of the many things that you find yourself loving. 

Carefully, you brush his hair back into place and press your lips to his forehead, hoping to wake him before your brothers get out of bed and inevitably come knocking at your door. A soft groan rumbles through his chest, and you can see his eyes flutter open for a fleeting moment, bleary blue irises meeting yours as he tries to process where exactly he is. Then those eyes fall shut again, and you sigh heavily, leaning over to shake his shoulder lightly.

“Two, c’mon.” You whisper softly, earning another moan of protest as he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck. 

“Five more minutes,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with sleep and his breath tickling your sensitive skin. It's rare to see him so disoriented, so out of it, and you can’t help but feel amused at his behaviour. 

However, your amusement quickly evaporates when you hear the telltale ring of Darry’s alarm, the sound shrill and piercing as it cuts through the silence. You cringe at the sound. Two-Bit grunts in displeasure, burying his face deeper into your shoulder. 

“It's not fair,” he whines, peering up at you. “How can they be awake already? It's Sunday morning. I want to sleep in.” Despite his words, his hold on you loosens slightly, and he pushes himself up onto his elbow, blinking hard until he focuses on your face, his eyes brightening significantly when he meets your gaze. 

The covers pool loosely around your waist as he shifts, and he immediately notices your bare torso, a broad grin spreading across his features.

“Woah, hey, cover up!” A loud laugh escapes him, and you're quick to slap a hand over his mouth, glaring down at him. 

“Shh, you idiot. Darry will hear you.” Two holds his hands up placatingly, his smile still in place as you pull your hand away, rolling your eyes in feigned annoyance at his antics. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a silent apology, one you accept easily, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pulls you closer. It’s sweet and simple, lasting no longer than a couple of seconds before you break apart, a soft smile playing at your lips. 

Two-bit stretches out beside you, propping his head up on his hand as he watches you intently, an unreadable expression in his eyes. You roll off of the mattress, ignoring the quiet whine of protest you get in response, padding across the room in search of your discarded clothes, which lay in a crumpled pile by the door. 

One glance at the clock tells you you've only got a couple minutes to get your very stubborn and very lazy boyfriend dressed and out of your window before Sodapop or Ponyboy come barging in.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up a pair of dark blue jeans, tossing them haphazardly towards Two, who catches them with a broad grin. 

“Put those on.” You mumble, turning back to search for your own clothes, only succeeding in finding your shirt before the door flies open, slamming against the wall and making both of you jump.

“Y/N, Darry wants—” Ponyboy stops short when his gaze lands on Two-Bit, whose jeans are halfway up his thighs, an almost comical look of confusion crossing his features before it's replaced with something akin to horror. “Oh my God,” he breathes out. “You guys...” He trails off, glancing over to you before slapping a hand over his eyes when he realises how very little you're wearing. 

“Get out!” You shriek, your cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red, and Pony doesn’t need to be told twice, turning on his heel and fleeing from the room, no doubt to go tell Darry about his new, and rather horrifying, discovery. 

You turn to look at Two-Bit, who, despite the situation, is still grinning like a madman as he pulls on his shirt, seemingly unfazed by everything that has happened in the last few seconds. That grin quickly fades, however, when a loud crash sounds from the kitchen, accompanied by Darry’s all-too-familiar bellow of your name. 

“Shit…” You curse, tugging on the remainder of your clothes, trying to usher your boyfriend to the window despite his protests. His arms wrap tightly around your midsection, preventing you from even attempting to escape, and though you try to kick and squirm out of his grasp, he simply refuses to release his grip on you, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Keith Mathews, I swear if you don't let me go right now—”

Your threats are interrupted as the door flies open for the second time that morning, and there stands Darry, his hands on his hips, his eyes blazing with a look that could only be described as murderous. You freeze, staring at him helplessly, and Two-Bit offers him a sheepish smile, slowly releasing you and backing away towards the open window. Before he reaches it, however, Darry steps forward, grabbing him by the back of his shirt roughly and dragging him back. 

“Darry!” You exclaim, sounding slightly exasperated as you watch your brother pull Two-Bit out of your room and down the hallway, cursing under his breath as he goes. You trail after them, pausing beside a rather surprised Sodapop and a very guilty-looking Ponyboy as Darry shoves Two out of the front door, crossing his arms and glaring down at him.

“If I find you sneaking in here to see her again, I'll skin you, you hear?” He growls, pointing a threatening finger at the younger greaser, who has the decency to look appropriately terrified, flashing you a pleading look. 

With a sigh, you step forward, placing a gentle hand on your brother’s forearm and forcing out a tight-lipped smile. “Darry, c’mon.” You try, “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.” 

It seems, however, that your pleas fall on deaf ears, and Darry turns sharply to glare at you, his expression stony. You quickly fall silent, listening as your older brother continues to scold Two-Bit, whose eyes are wide with a slight fear. Darry could be really frightening when he wanted to be; you’d learn that the hard way. 

“I mean it,” Darry barks, his attention seemingly back on the redhead still standing on the porch. “From now on, you use the front door, and that bedroom door stays open whenever you’re around. I don’t want any ‘funny business’ going on under this roof. Especially not while I’m sleeping next door.” 

You know exactly what he means by 'funny business', and the implication causes your cheeks to flush crimson. Two-Bit, who looks just as embarrassed as you are, nods hurriedly, and you don't think you've ever seen the greaser look so guilty in all the time that you've known him. 

Darry must notice too, because he relaxes slightly, his tone softer than it had been before, as he speaks once again. “Don't hurt her; you got it?” 

“Got it.” Two nods: “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Darry huffs, clearly not entirely satisfied with the whole situation, but deciding to drop it nonetheless as he glances between the two of you. He runs a hand through his dark hair, which is still slightly mussed from sleep, and lets out a long sigh. “Ya’ll are going to kill me someday.” He mutters, shaking his head, before turning from the door and heading back in the direction of the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, you shoot Two-Bit an apologetic look, but he merely smiles and winks reassuringly at you before turning on his heel to jog down the porch steps. You close the door with a loud sigh and hear Sodapop chuckle behind you, his arms crossed and a smug smile spread across his features.

“So…” He drawls, looking impossibly pleased with himself. “Two-Bit Mathews, huh?” 

“Shut up.” 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders headcanons #two bit mathews #two bit x reader #two bit matthews x reader #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #dallas winston #johnny cade #steve randle #ponyboy curtis imagine

[haechvn]

Dating Shuri Udaku Headcanons

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff, Toxic!Shuri, Angst and Smut since yall nasty asf

Summary/Request: I got so many requests for an update so here it is!

Word Count: 1k words

Author’s Note: I decided to make her mean since you hoes wanna be treated like shit or whatever. I'm getting back into my groove with this one for sure. 18+ MDNI fr or imma beat yall ass. NEED MORE SHURI GIFS WTH

Taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @theblacksuccubus @melodykisses @blackhottie25 @tonakings @coalmistyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @yelenabelovasgf @callmeoncette @clqrosmgc @theblacksuccubus @cherios @shuris-whore @nut4shuri @gaspyghosttt @elliesdinosauar @idkhersposts @ziayamikaelson @trinthebean @sleepingnova @yunhofingers

Credits: @anitalenia for the super cute dividers get into itttt

Fluff 

Cooks breakfast for you every morning after the two of you have sweet and reckless nights together 

Loves getting the two of you matching sets of grillz. Gold, silver, diamond studded. It doesn't matter

Brings you alongside her for all of her council meetings as she truly values your opinion and wants you to be involved and know your role in leading the nation with her

Has a throne for you next to hers 

Trains you with the Dora because she doesn’t want what happened last time with Namor to ever repeat itself

Buys you whatever you want right off each and every runway during all the major Fashion Week shows

Always get the biggest section when y’all got out and you betta be shaking that ass cause she gon be throwing them bills babyyyy

The amount of decorated hotel rooms you get from her is ridiculoussss. She’ll decorate a whole hotel for you just because she loved seeing your smile in the morning.

Always has her hand in yours no matter what the two of you are doing. Even hold your hand while you two brush your teeth

Never breaks eye contact with you while the two of you are speaking

Has more that 100 nicknames for you

Toxic/Angsty 

Purposely starts arguments with you because it turns her on to see you riled up and she can’t stop thinking about you putting her back in her place

Used a bit too much of her strength on you during training and you had to stay in the hospital for a few nights. She locked herself in her room and couldn’t even stand to look at you when you were released. 

Sometimes she lacks empathy because she believes she’s gone through the worse shit. She definitely gaslights you sometimes and walks away if you complain to her about having family issues

“Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom everyday. Where’s mine? Oh yea right. I’m done listening”

Tries to deny that she felt anything for RiRi but will constantly talk about how beautiful she is just to get you jealous. You end up beating her ass bc wtf

One of those lesbians that doesn't like when you talk to other women bc why the fuck would you?

Will look you dead in the eyes and tell you that you aren’t more important than her work and you should just leave her alone and spend the money she gives you. She sent 2 mil to your account while you stormed out of the lab

She’ll deny you sex because she didn’t like the way you spoke to the Dora earlier that morning. You said hi 

She sometimes embarrassed by the lack of strength you have. Like tighten up tf

“Can you stop touching me? Even the Dora don’t smother me this much.”

Hates when you constantly run your hands through her hair like she didn’t just get it done

Kisses her teeth when you try to shake your ass and it doesn’t move the way she want it too

“Try harder maybe? Ugh just stop actually. You look cringe doing that” LIKE WHERE'S YOUR ASS MA'AM????

Smut

Shuri likes when you eat her pussy with her panther suit on. Yes. That part is cut out 

She has different grillz for eating your pussy and then ones for eating you ass— SHE A BOTTOMFEEDAAAA

Shuri loves pressing her kimoyo beads against your clit and sending intense vibrations there. Rose toy who???

She eats your pussy at night sometimes because if you look hard enough while she’s making your head spin, her inner bottom lip glows softly with her vibranium tattoo, being the only source of light in the room

LOVES WHEN YOU DRILL HER SHIT TO THE POINT THAT SHE CANT BREATHE AND TRIES TO GRASP AROUND BUT SHE CANT BC THE VIBRANIUM CUFFS TOO STRONG EVEN FOR HER SO SHE HAS TO BEG YOU TO RELEASE HER EVEN THOUGH SHE KNOWS YOU WON’T AHHH

Can literally eat you out for hours and against your (consented) will, she definitely does

RIDES YOU IN THE NASTIEST SLOPPIEST WAY LIKE SHE LOVES SEEING YALL CREAM MIX AND IS OBSESSED WITH HOW STICKY SHE IS AND HOW MUCH STICKIER YOU ARE UGH SHE PRESSES HER LIPS AGAINST YOUR AS IF SHE CAN GO INSIDE YOU BYEEEEEEE

SHE AINT NO FAKE GAY NO MA’AM

Wakes you up most mornings with her lips sucking and teasing your breast bc babe she can’t get enough

BOTTOM!SHURI LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON THE THRONE AND SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF CUM OVER AND OVER RIDING YOUR THIGH WHILE YOU SIT ON HER THRONE OH WOW

SHE WHINES SO MUCH AND IS NOT QUIET AT ALL. Constantly getting complaints from everyone in the palace

Likes getting her ass devoured. SORRY NOT SORRY 

Kissing you alone get her wetter than river Niger omgggg (I’m African and this how we say it PLS)

Constantly talking you through EVERYTHING she does to you

“You take my fingers so well”

“Hmm, you know I love when you squeeze around me like that. Fuck, do that again.” (THE WAY SHE ROLLS HER R’S UGHHH)

“Please, I can’t take it. I-I… Fuck you feel so good. Don’t stop fucking me, put me in my place”

Never breaks eye contact with you when she’s drilling the shit out of you 

LOVES WHEN YOU FUCK HER FACE WITH ALL THE STRAPS SHES MADE IN THE LAB

Literally she’ll be in the lab with her goggles on with all her tools scattered all of the table and gets wet picturing you standing over her and using her mouth like a toy OMG

Loves when you tie her up with pink and purple ribbons and stuff her mouth with your panties BYE

LIKES BEING BLINDFOLDED AND WEARING FLUFFY EARMUFFS SO YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING TO HER AND GIVING YOU FULL CONTROL

WHITE FLUFFY EARMUFFS WITH PINK RIBBONS AND HER CURLY HAIR SHAKING AROUND EVERY TIME SHE MOVES

#shuri is a eater #shuri is a munch #shuri is a real gay not like you fake bitches #shuri x reader #shuri smut #shuri fanfiction #shuri imagine #toxic!shuri #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x f!reader #black panther x reader #shuri x fem!reader #shuri angst #shuri fluff #toxic!shuri x reader #princess shuri smut #shuri black panther #black panther imagine #black panther smut #marvel smut #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x y/n #black panther angst #mcu imagine

[scaranation]

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

-

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin angst #dottore x reader #dottore x you #fatui x reader #dottore angst #dottore imagines #yandere dottore #yandere genshin x reader #zandik x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #zhongli imagines #zhongli oneshot #dottore #angst #zhongli

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 1: Introductions✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is my new club owner Joel series! Thank you to the lovely @janaispunk for making me this beautiful mood board ❤️ Joel Miller is the biggest menace in this one. I wanted to somehow mix a little 50 Shades of Grey but also create something unique and super hot, so hope you enjoy 50 Shades of pleasure dom Joel! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated. Let me know your thoughts on this one! As always, I LOVE writing and hope you enjoy my stories as much as I love writing and sharing them with you 💕

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 9.7k

Tags: No outbreak au, thigh riding, Joel’s dirty mouth, flirting, pining, fingering

Summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Friday night and instead of sitting down with a cold glass of white wine and a book on the couch, you’re currently standing in a dress that’s too tight and heels so high you think you’ll fall over at any minute. The tight black dress clings to your body like a suction cup, and the slit in the side of your left thigh is almost showing too much skin the more you move around.

You spent the last hour sitting at your glowing vanity, curling your hair into long spirals and putting on smokey dark eyeshadow that makes your eyes stand out and deep red lipstick that sits matted against your lips. This isn’t your usual. You like to stay in after a long week at the library, not go clubbing till 2:00am. You’re not an extrovert like all your friends are, so this is a once in a while thing you even do.

You take one more look at yourself in the mirror and sigh heavily. This will be good for you. You need to socialize. You need to get back into the dating field, but that honestly just sounds like a nightmare right now. Dating in general just sucks. It’s like no man knows how to even properly treat a woman nowadays. Your last boyfriend was a complete nightmare. Tall, lanky, sports obsessed, demanded blowjobs without even offering to go down on you once. That’s how all the guys had been in the past, and you were honestly just over it. Fuck men.

Before you can get all worked up about past boyfriends, you head to your apartment door when you hear a sharp knock and giddy laughter on the other side. That meant the girls were here. Here goes nothing. When you open the door, Brianna and Taylor lose it when they see what you’re wearing.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Brianna screams as Taylor twirls you around to get a good look at you. Brianna’s soft brown eyes and long blonde curls look you over from head to toe. “You’re such a babe! And that dress? God, it makes your ass look so good and that slit in your dress?! You are definitely going to get laid tonight,” she shrieks as she gives you a quick hug hello.

“Bri, stop!” you laugh, shaking your head no. “I am not getting laid tonight. I’m so over guys,” you cringe as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please. All the men are going to be looking at you tonight, you little slut!” Taylor smirks as her green eyes sparkle like emeralds when she looks at your short dress. Her pinned up red hair sits perfectly in a messy bun atop her head, her white heels digging into the wooden floor as she circles you.

“No, guys. Really, I don’t need to try to find someone tonight. I’m only going out because you’re forcing me to,” you complain with a huff.

“Sure, babe. That vibrator that sits in your nightstand isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast. You need to be laid properly. So we’re gonna find you a man tonight if it’s the last thing we do,” Brianna says with a beam of a bright smile.

“Whatever, let’s just go. I need a drink,” you whine as they pull you out of the comfort of your small apartment and whisk you out the door, shoving you inside the White Cadillac that sits idle on the corner of the curb.

You slump in the front passenger seat as soon as Brianna drives off, entering the busy traffic of Austin as the city lights flash brightly outside the window. You sigh and lean on the edge of the window as Taylor Swift’s “Karma” blasts through the speakers. Taylor and Brianna sing along loudly, but you sit mute with your arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, cheer up, babe! You’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not brooding in the corner like a pent up prisoner,” Brianna laughs as she hits your arm lightly.

“I’d be in a better mood if I was curled up on my couch with a good book,” you groan as you stifle out another sigh.

Taylor leans over the back of the front seat and takes a good look at you. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. You will have fun tonight whether you like it or not! This club is to die for. I know it just opened last year, but seriously it’s the hottest club in Austin,” she says excitedly with a big grin zipped across her contoured face.

“What’s the name of this club again?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Club Inferno,” Taylor says with a smirk. “Inferno is right. It’s hot as fuck in there, and the men that go are super sexy,” she swoons as she sits back against her leather seat.

“Club Inferno, huh? Wonder how the owner came up with a name like that,” you ask curiously as you focus your sights on the busy sidewalks that are littered with dressed up couples and groups that look like they’re about to head to the club as well.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you can ask the owner yourself,” Brianna smirks in the front seat.

“Who’s the owner?” you ask, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t say online, but I hear rumors that he’s ridiculously hot. Like I’m talking about an 11/10 hot,” she smirks as she pulls into a parking spot a few feet from the lit up club.

“Sounds like someone I wouldn’t be interested in. He already sounds arrogant and like all the other men I’ve dated,” you spit out, a snarl hanging on your lips.

“Oh, just shut up and have some fun tonight, please. You’re killing my vibes,” she says as she rolls her eyes and puts the car in park.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to have fun,” you sigh as you step out of the car onto the hard concrete, pulling your dress down so it doesn’t ride up and expose too much skin.

“Good, now let’s go drink and dance!” Brianna and Taylor scream together. You just laugh and follow them to the front of the club, stopping at the metallic black double doors as you get your IDs checked. Once they give them back, you step into the club and gasp at the sight.

The inside is absolutely gigantic. The club sits two stories high with a shimmering disco ball hanging in the middle of the crowded dance floor. The walls are pitch black with red glowing signs all around that say “Club Inferno”. The sign that sits behind the bar is also glowing red and says “Sinners Welcome”. The bar has a large mirror splayed across the wall with bottles of beer and liquor stacked high against it. The bar top has a sleek dark wooden hue to it and the bar stools are made of black leather material.

There’s dark boothes all around that are marked off for VIP lounges, private parties, or reservations made prior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling as they make shiny patterns on the dark hardwood floors. An open lounge area sits in the opposite corner of the bar where leather couches and small glass tables sit scattered around. You look away when you see a cozy couple making out in a corner of one of the couches and try not to roll your eyes.

When you turn towards the dance floor, you see the glow of fluorescent blue and red flashing lights mix in with the glittering disco ball as the Dj spins some tracks on a large display against the wall. The dance floor is crowded, maybe two-hundred people at the least stand grinding up on each other as Rhianna blasts through the speakers. Two platforms with poles attached to the center sit in the back corners of the room for anyone to use at their leisure.

Behind the bar sits two long, dark hallways with various rooms attached down the shadowed corners of the hallway. A spiral staircase sits next to the second hall and leads up to the second floor. From here you can’t see what all is upstairs, but it looks like another bar sits up there and maybe some pool tables from what you can see. This club wasn’t anything like you expected it to be. You thought it’d be small and maybe less crowded. Boy, were you wrong.

“Don’t you love it in here?!” Taylor asks excitedly as she twirls around in her short forest green strapless dress and pulls you to the dance floor.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined it to be,” you shout out loudly against the beat of the music. “Tay, we just got here. Can’t we sit down?” you whine as Brianna pulls you into the middle of the raging crowd.

“Not until after a couple of dances,” Taylor smiles as she pushes her back against a man in a suit that grinds up against his blonde girlfriend. You groan but go along with them.

“Loosen up, hun. The night’s just started. We’ll get some alcohol in you, and you’ll be just fine,” Brianna beams as she grabs a few Jell-O shots from the bartender that makes her away across the busy dance floor. “Drink up!” she yells as she hands you a container of red liquid.

“Fine,” you groan as you pop the shot into your mouth and instantly taste cherry and vodka mixed together. It slides down your throat easily, and you put the empty vial on the bartender’s tray. Taylor and Brianna both cheer after you take the shot and start grinding up against each other as the music switches over to a Beyoncé song.

You decide to try to enjoy yourself and sway your hips, getting into the song as the dance floor rocks back and forth. You keep your focus on the shimmering disco ball and watch the way the sparkling glass reflects off the walls. You keep your eyes from staying too much in the crowd and focus on your friends as they lift their arms and shimmy their hips to the beat.

After a couple of long songs, they agree to take a break and get some drinks. You and Taylor find an empty couch and sit down while Brianna goes up to the bar and orders a round of LITs for the table. After a few minutes, she returns with the glasses of alcohol and passes them out. You take a big gulp and feel the remnants of alcohol run down your throat with a slight burning sensation staying stagnant in your mouth.

“So, see any cute guys you might be interested in?” Taylor asks as she looks around the crowded club, focusing her eyes on a tall man with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. “What about that one, huh? He’s kinda cute,” she says with a flirtatious smile as she eyes him.

You scrunch your nose up and shake your head. “No, Taylor. Not that one. Maybe you can go talk to him. He looks like your type,” you laugh as you watch her eye him up and down. You take another sip of your drink and set it on the glass table as the condensation drips down the glass.

Brianna smirks at you and looks from the bar, back to you a few times. “Bri, what? I know that look. That’s a plotting face you always make when you’re up to no good.”

She just smiles wider. “You see that man at the bar? That one on the left corner with the white collared button-up shirt?” She points him out and you flick your eyes over in that direction nonchalantly.

The man she points out is sitting in one of the barstools and sips casually on a cold glass of what looks to be whiskey. You slowly drag your eyes over him, taking in the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to expose thick veins that spider all the way down his arms to end in massive hands. His biceps bulge against the cotton material every time he flexes and moves to grab his cold glass of alcohol. His dark blue jeans press up against muscular thighs and a fancy black watch sits latched onto his left wrist. His hair is dark and streaked with grey lines as thick tousled curls sit wildly atop his head. A dark, patchy beard shadows his sculpted, sharp jawlines.

Your eyes move over his greying locks again slowly, taking in the way a couple curls fall against his forehead subtly. His curls look soft to the touch, you almost wonder what it’d be like to run your fingers through his hair or maybe drag your nails against that salt and pepper scruff…

You jolt out of your daydream as his eyes linger over to yours, calmly taking another drink of whiskey as his eyes stay locked on yours. You pull your eyes away and look back at Brianna. “What about him?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“The man hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked into the club,” she giggles as you go wide-eyed.

“Oh, he has not. Please, he’s got to be looking at you or Taylor,” you reply as she looks back up at the bar.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Taylor laughs as she knocks you in the shoulder with her arm. “He’s looking straight at you.”

You look back up and freeze. His dark eyes find yours again as a small smirk appears on the edge of his mouth, curling into something that dares you to challenge his gaze. You suck in a breath and look back down, grabbing your drink as you try to calm your nerves down. Calm down, calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably not even interested in anything you have to say.

“You’re going to go talk to him,” Brianna smiles deviously as she narrows her eyes and smirks up at you.

“What?!” you choke out, the liquid flowing down your windpipes uncomfortably. “No, no way. I can’t.”

“Yes, you are,” Taylor encourages you. “He’s totally gorgeous. Like come on. He’s clearly at least in his upper forties. Older, probably has a lot of money, dresses nicely, and I see no wedding ring on him,” she smirks, eyes darkening as she gets up and pulls you along for the ride.

“No, Tay. Please, I can’t. I’m not…”

She cuts you off as Brianna joins in, pulling you towards the bar as your feet try to stay planted to the spot you’re in. “You’re not what? Look at you, you’re hot. Don’t waste it by being boring. Go talk to him,” she encourages as she pulls you further, halfway to the bar now as you see him in the corner of your vision eyeing you.

“No, guys. Come on. I’m too… I can’t…”

Brianna stops you from saying anything else. “Look, you're going to go talk to him, and he’s going to buy you a drink, and then me and Tay are going to go back out there and dance. And you’re going to go up there and flirt with him and twirl your hair and get his number,” she says seriously as she drags you to the edge of the bar.

“But I… he’s too… I can’t…” you stutter out.

“Go on, babe. You can do it.” Brianna and Taylor give you a hard push and shove you against the edge of the bar, only a few bar stools away from the man with the dark eyes. “Have fun,” Brianna whispers in your ear with a laugh as she grabs Taylor’s hand and leads her away from the bar, leaving you all alone with your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

You take a seat on one of the empty black bar stools and rest your arms on the sleek bar top, looking over the menu nervously as you flip through the pages of drinks. You don’t look up, afraid that if you do you’ll lock eyes again with the handsome stranger. No more dating, no more dating, no more dating.

“Is this seat taken?” A deep Southern voice fills your ears as you look up and find the man with dark eyes looking down at you.

Fuck.

“Ummm no,” you answer shyly as you tuck a curl behind your ear, cursing your friends for pushing you into doing this.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod and he pushes back the empty bar stool, lightly brushing his leg against yours as a chill runs down your spine at the contact.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he looks you over slowly, making your eyes widen at the action.

“Oh, sure,” you respond meekly, putting the drink menu down before you rip it in half from the way you’re anxiously flipping through the pages.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?”

You muster up an ounce of courage and fire back a question without thinking. “What do you think my drink of choice is?” you ask flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes up at him as if to win him over. Your adrenaline spikes in your body, and it’s as if the alcohol turned you into another girl.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t like you. You don’t flirt with men at clubs, especially gorgeous men like him. But he’s so hot, you can’t resist. Fuck.

He chuckles at the question and drags his eyes nice and slow over your body, clenching his jaw up as he concentrates on you. You can see the calculations and assumptions he’s making swirl and tick in his mind. He’ll never guess right. He’s just like any other guy. They all get it wrong, always.

His eyes flick back up to your face as a gentle smile spreads over his mouth, forming dimples that press deep into his cheeks.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Hmmm, let me see,” he starts slow, his words slipping like melted butter off his tongue. “You don’t seem like the type to drink hard liquor. Fireball? Definitely not. Tequila? Can’t see it. But hmmm, let me guess…” He takes another good look at you and stares into your eyes. Those warm brown eyes searing through you as you melt into them.

God, those eyes. Those fucking brown doe eyes.

“Rum? Maybe. Vodka? Most likely. Whiskey… maybe a whiskey girl. But you…” He leans in closer, and you can smell the cologne dripping off his skin. Can practically taste the whiskey that encompasses his lips. Can almost feel how his mouth would taste with his tongue gliding against yours.

You focus on deep breaths as he rests his large hand right next to yours, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against yours as goosebumps start to crawl slowly up your arm. He laughs lightly as he forms a guess with a Southern drawl dripping off his tongue. “Malibu tonic? Guessin’ you’re a fruity cocktail kind of girl.”

“How did you know that’s one of my favorite drinks?” you ask with a wide-eyed stare.

“Just an assumption, sweetheart. I’m pretty good at readin’ people. Especially ones as pretty as yourself,” he smirks, turning toward the bar to call over one of the bartenders.

Sweetheart? Pretty? Oh fuck, you’re in trouble.

As soon as the blonde bartender comes over, he wastes no time and gives her your drink orders. “One Malibu tonic and one Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks, Hailey,” he smiles softly and nods as she smiles back and turns away, getting the drinks prepared in a flash.

Hailey? Of course he knows her by name. He probably knows every fucking girl in this obscene club by name.

You frown, a tinge of jealousy hitting the back of your closed up throat. But why are you jealous? You don’t care about this man, don’t care if he even buys you a drink. You don’t date, and there’s a reason you don’t anymore. But that’s a dark place you won’t go tonight or ever again.

He notices the shift in your mood as you sit up straighter and clench your jaw into place, focusing on not losing your temper over a simple thing as a name.

“Y’alright there? Look a little tense,” he asks, hovering his thick fingers closer to your hand as you pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” you bite back a little too harshly. He doesn’t respond, only nods. He knows you’re not fine, but he doesn’t press on it.

When the bartender comes over to drop off your drinks, you can’t help but notice the small silver name tag that’s latched on to the front of her black low-cut tank top. The name Hailey is in sparkly letters, and you feel shame instantly cover your face.

You’re a fucking idiot.

You take a sip of the fruity liquid and let it slide down the back of your throat, along with the bitterness and jealousy that was there seconds ago. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already acting jealous? Jesus. You’re in way over your head.

He takes a swig of his amber colored drink and swallows, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. He sticks out his hand and you take it slowly, feeling the back of his calloused fingers as they burn into your hand, simmering like a hot fire as it runs through your veins. It’s firm, strong, powerful. And you know. You know you’re in trouble.

“The name’s Joel. What’s yours, sweetheart?” His hand lingers maybe a little too long in your hold, but you don’t shake him off. You just let him drop it when he’s ready, feeling the now cold hand as you flex your fingers into a fist in your lap, trying to remember exactly how his hand fit perfectly in yours.

You tell him your name, and it floats like a siren’s song off his lips, a trance like lull that sucks you in. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’. You come around here much? Haven’t seen you before. Think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,” he says with a smirk, his coffee colored eyes focused on you. You have to work hard to find words before you lose all control of your voice.

Pretty? Oh, he’s laying it on thick.

“No, but sounds like you’re a usual here. You come here a lot or something?” you ask, eyes fixed on the way he holds his crystal glass with a strong grasp.

“Somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, a look like he knows something you don’t displaying on the lines of his forehead.

“Of course you do. Not me, this is my first time here,” you say as you shift uncomfortably in your bar stool.

“And? How d’you like it?” he asks with questions lingering in his bright eyes.

“Honestly? It’s okay. It’s a little loud for my taste, but it’s decent,” you say as you take another sip of your fruity concoction.

“Oh, just decent? Tell me more of your thoughts,” he says as he puts an elbow on the bar top and leans his cheek on his knuckles, waiting for you to answer.

You shake your head. “Nah, you don’t want to hear my thoughts. They’re… well, they’re…” You lose yours words to the blaring music that stirs across the crowded dance floor.

“Enlighten me,” he says with a husky voice while he stirs the amber liquid, eyes fixed intently on you.

You gulp at the sharp eyesight, your knees knocking against the smooth bar walls anxiously. “Well, there’s no food here for starters. I’d kill for some chicken strips right now,” you groan, salivating at the thought of food right now.

He laughs in response. “Sweetheart, this is a club. This ain’t a cheap bar with finger foods.”

You snap back at him. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better if the club had some.”

His eyebrows raise in defense, holding out a hand to calm you down. “Alright, calm down, tiger. Gonna start seeing claws in a second,” he laughs as you sigh and nod your head. “What else?” he asks.

“What else what?” you question as you swirl your drink around mindlessly.

“What else would you change about the club?” His eyebrows knit together like he’s concentrating on what you have to say.

When was the last time a guy ever listened to you? Whatever, he asked so you’ll tell him exactly what you think.

“The signs are all red. It’d look better if there were also pink ones. Gives some light contrast and a more subtle look,” you shrug, sipping on more of the tasty alcohol in your hands.

“Hmmm, might not be a bad idea. Anything else?” His gaze stays on you as he throws back a gulp of whiskey, sitting the crystal glass back on the edge of the flat bar top.

“Why do you care? I’m just rambling,” you say with a convicted tone.

“I might’ve talked to the owner a couple of times here and there. Might give him some suggestions next time I see him,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes at his perfect dimples.

God, why does he have to be so pretty.

“Okay then,” you say with a smug look. “The alcohol menu could use some more options, other than tons of beers. Make it more friendly for cocktails and mixed drinks. And the VIP booths? Maybe save some for general guests to reserve when they get here. The Dj? He needs to mix up the tunes, these songs get old pretty quick. Throw some throwbacks in there, play some more upbeat rock songs. And for rooms? Maybe open up some private rooms for guests who want to chill in a quieter area where they can think. It’s fucking loud in here,” you say sternly as you cross your leg over your knee and give him a devious smirk, feeling like you just let him have it.

All he does is shake his head and let out a low whistle, a small chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t ya? Shit. You sure got a lot to pick apart. Don’t ya?”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just what I’d do differently. Not that my opinion matters.”

“Sure it does, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give him the rundown when I see him.” He winks at you, and you feel a weird flutter in your stomach that you shouldn’t even be feeling. You chase it down with another drink of alcohol, letting the burn fill the void.

“This isn’t your scene I’m guessin’?” he asks carefully, honey eyes drawing back to yours again patiently.

“No, it’s really not,” you shake your head defeatedly. “My friends dragged me out tonight, said I needed to get out of the house and let loose. I had a really long week and I was looking forward to staying in with a glass of wine, but no. Just had to come out,” you say with a huff, your cheeks growing crimson with the sudden awareness of your bad attitude and complaining.

Christ. Just calm the fuck down. You’re going to scare him off.

“What is your scene then?” he asks, ignoring your whole meltdown about coming out in the first place.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes, surprised he wants to continue the conversation with your depressing ass.

“What’s your scene, angel?”

Angel. Oh.

“Oh, uh. I… I like more quiet environments. Like bookstores. There’s nothing more I like than strolling through a bookstore with an iced coffee in my hand, just smelling the fresh pages of the books,” you smile, thinking of the last time you went to the local bookstore and fawned over the latest edition of The Odyssey. Classics were some of your favorites.

“Books, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asks, general curiosity piqued as he continues staring at you, fixedly.

You eye him suspiciously but continue. “Pride and Prejudice,” you say quietly, eyes averting from his momentarily.

“Ahh, a classic. We are all fools in love,” he quotes almost perfectly, his Southern accent making every word sound like sweet poetry to your ears.

Your eyes grow wider, shock hitting your system. “You know Jane Austen?” you ask incredibly, your hand gripping your cup uncomfortably tight.

“Mhm. Read most of her books,” he says without a hint of surprise in his voice.

He reads classic books. Holy shit.

“Wow. That’s uh-” you lose your concentration, mouth gawking open at him. He reaches out and closes your jaw for you, his calloused fingers burning your skin the more he touches you.

“Don’t act too surprised. Some men like to read the classics too,” he smirks as he drops his hand, ending the contact way too soon. “What else?”

“Huh?” you ask, still shocked at his last words.

“What else do ya like?” His weight shifts just a tad and his knee skims yours as goosebumps form over your skin, the contact almost too much for you.

“Why?” you ask, almost self conscious of yourself. There’s way more interesting girls here than you, more up to his liking probably. You’re boring while all these other girls know how to party. You’re an introvert, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to him.

“Why what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, the lines above his forehead wrinkling at the notion as one of his tousled curls fall into his face. You almost want to push it back for him, almost.

“Why the interest in me? I’m not... I’m…”

“You’re not what?” he almost barks out as his eyes get a shade darker. It’s a little intimidating and makes you sit up straighter, aware of all the sulking you’ve done this evening. You’re just making it worse for yourself. You’re going to scare him off.

“I’m not like all these other girls in here. I’m… I’m shy, reserved. I don’t even come close to some of these women in here. I’m…”

He cuts you off as he cups your chin with his large hand, syrupy eyes clouding your vision as he stares at you intently. It makes your heart speed up frantically as blood rushes through your ears uncontrollably.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. You’re not like the rest of them. You’re interesting. You caught my attention. And you’re stunning,” he says smoothly as his eyes drop down the length of you, taking in the large slit in your tight black dress and trailing back up to your eyes, a breath catching deep in your throat.

He drops his hand from your chin and turns back to his glass of whiskey, pouring another shot down his throat as he slides it back against the sleek bar top, running a hand through his wild curls.

God, you want to run your hands through those curls, want to feel just how soft and silky they really are…

A rough voice pulls you from your distant thoughts as a tall, bulky man dressed in all black slides up beside you in the next bar stool, ogling your body as he fans his eyes over you in a disgusting manner. You want to roll your eyes and ignore him already.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing? Let me buy you a drink. What’ll it be? Tequila, beer on tap?” he asks with a snide smirk on his face.

“I've got her well taken care of. Thanks for the offer, though. But she won’t be needing that drink,” he faintly growls under his breath, placing his large hand on your leg as he curls his calloused fingers around your inner thigh slowly. You about jump from the warm contact and how it instantly eases you in a weird way. You barely know the man, why did this feel… safe?

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize she was with anyone,” he huffs, eyeing Joel’s hand on your bare thigh as it burns through your skin like a scalding stove.

He’s just a man. He’s just a man. Get it together. You��re not doing this tonight.

“Think she’s in good hands,” Joel breathes, his voice deep and gruff as his eyes narrow at the man. He turns with a nod and walks in the opposite direction, going to find his next victim.

Joel keeps his thick fingers pressed to your thigh for a few more seconds then releases his hand, the same time you let go of the breath you were holding. “Uhh, thanks,” you say awkwardly, leaning against the bar top to look him in the eyes again. In those pretty brown doe eyes that light up tingling feelings that you want to keep at bay.

No hookups. None.

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says as he turns to look at you again, eyes lingering on more unanswered questions.

“So, you seein’ anyone?” he asks as he drags his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, slowly collecting condensation on the tip of his thumb. The sight makes you gulp.

“No,” you say quietly, shaking your head slowly.

“You’re tellin’ me that a girl as beautiful as you isn’t seein’ anyone?” he asks in disbelief, a small disbelieving laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, I’m not,” you shrug, eyes flicking back and forth between the thumb that languidly glides around the edge of the glass and his honey eyes that stay focused on you. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, an eyebrow raising in question as he waits for your answer. You don’t really have a good one for him, not really wanting to go into the traumatic ex boyfriends you had been with before.

“I dunno. Just haven’t found the right one, I guess. Been busy. And besides, I’m not…” You stop mid sentence, staring at Joel’s scowl on his face. What was he so mad about now? What had you said?

“Don’t give me that answer. Sweetheart, the entire bar is staring at you.” You look behind you and gasp. He’s right. All the men gathered around the counter are trailing their eyes to you, eyes ogling you from a distance, hoping to get a chance to talk to you.

You swing your bar stool back around and stop as your knees lock with his, your eyes focusing on him. Only him. “As for me, I’ve had my eyes on you the minute you stepped through those doors. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. A real angel, at best,” coffee eyes honing in on you like a hawk stalking its prey. Suddenly you can’t hear the noisy music, can’t hear the clicking of the glasses behind you. It’s just you and Joel, in your own little bubble as the words crash down on you like a siren’s song.

Gorgeous. Sweetheart. You’re in trouble.

“Oh,” is all you can gasp out. He’s charming, almost too charming. And you hate him for it. Hate him for how he’s making you feel. Like you’re special, like you mean something. It makes you sick, so fucking sick.

You take a slow drink of your alcohol, hoping the taste will cool you off from the heat he just gave you. “Tell me, angel. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?”

You choke on your drink and spit it out, wiping the cloth napkin over your chin as you catch your breath. “Excuse me?” you ask in disbelief.

“You heard me. It’s a simple question. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?” His jaw tics and his eyebrow rises, his eyes hounding you as he waits for your answer.

You’re speechless, not believing what you just heard. But the way he’s looking at you now tells you he won’t back off till he knows. So you amuse him. “It’s been a couple of years,” you answer quietly, your voice barely audible above the ringing music.

“A couple years?” Joel asks incredulously. “Christ. No wonder you’ve been uptight lately. Y’need somebody to make you feel good, ain’t that right?” he asks with a rough, gravelly voice as he inches closer to you, your hands digging into the material of your black dress as he comes closer, closer, closer.

“I… I’m fine,” you say nervously, but he keeps leaning in, body hovering over yours as his hand ghosts over your thigh, causing goosebumps to raise in his presence.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart. You’re trembling. Your legs are shaking,” he points out as he trails his fingers lightly over your thigh, his whiskey breath breathing down your neck as he runs his lips across the shell of your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“I could make you feel so good, sweetheart. Could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You want it, don’t ya? I can almost smell how bad you want it,” he teases as he whispers into your ear, making your legs squeeze tighter together as you hold in a whine of need.

Fuck, stop. Not tonight, not with him. He’s too charming, too tempting, too hot for you.

The edge of his patchy salt and pepper scruff slides against your jaw, making you want to run your fingers profusely through it as you drag your nails over him. Imagining his mouth between your legs, his tongue on your clit as he makes meticulous circles over you.

Fuck.

You catch your breath and watch him pull back just the slightest, his honey eyes now darker in shade, more prominent as his pupils expand wider into dark circles. “Let me give it to ya, angel. Let me take care of you,” he says with bared teeth, a devilish grin taking form on his face as his body crowds yours against the bar stool, just hovering as his hands cover the sides of you, fingers barely grazing your hips that send a fire right through your lungs.

You catch your breath and say the most logical response. “I don’t need it. I don’t do this, I don’t…”

“You don’t what, darlin’? Don’t let a man make you feel good? Don’t let a man touch you where you need it most?” he purrs, calloused fingers finding your thigh as he runs his hand up your smooth skin, leaving burn marks with every place he touches. It’s hot, sadistic, evil.

“I… I…” You’re completely flustered from him, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. He’s so fucking charming and handsome and fuck. He’s trying to coax you, and he’s doing a damn good job at it, too.

“I can see how bad you want it,” he purrs. “The way your cheeks are flushed, and your breathing is erratic. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together as if to pretend that ache isn’t stirring in there for me. The way you keep sucking on your bottom lip and staring at me with those needy, pretty eyes,” he coaxes, leaning into you again as he runs his hot tongue over the shell of your ear.

And fuck, does it feel good.

“You want it, baby. Give in. Let me fix that throbbing ache in that pretty pussy of yours. Let me turn this good little angel into a bad little devil,” he growls, making a wave of slick run down your center as you choke on a moan. He only laughs at your needy response, your middle completely full of warmth now from his daring actions and smoldering words.

When he finally pulls back, you ask the one question that keeps ringing in your mind. “What’s in it for you?” you ask with the cock of your eyebrow, chin jutting out as you wait for an obnoxious answer that any other man would give you.

“Only the pleasure of knowing I took care of you,” he smirks, eyes glazing over at you with hunger in his deep voice.

“What? You’re not gonna make me get on my knees and give you a blowjob like any other guy would?” you ask with the taste of metallic in your throat, bitter and stale as you swallow it back down. That’s what any other man would do. No one’s ever asked what you wanted, only what they needed. Sick fucks.

“No,” he answers honestly.

“No?” you ask with bewildered eyes.

“No. I’m not other guys, sweetheart,” he states simply, the hunger still there in his dark eyes as his chest rises and falls in waves. He’s looking at you with so much intent in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

“So, what do you say? Want me to make you feel good?” he asks as he licks his lower lip seductively. The sight about knocks you out of your chair.

“I-uh. I… need a moment. Where are the bathrooms?” you ask hurriedly as you stand up from the bar stool, pulling your short dress down over your thighs.

“Down that dark hall and first door on your left,” he says as he points in the direction of the bathrooms. You nod and race off, dodging a couple making out as you walk around them, eager to get to the bathroom.

You shove past some people dancing and walk as fast as your high heels can carry you. You make your way through the dim lit hallway and crash into the door, swinging it open as you step into the lavish, huge bathroom. You stop at the porcelain sink and look into the lit up mirror as you stare at your reflection.

You freeze when you see just how flushed you are. Your eyes are as wide as an owl’s and the veins in your neck are pulsing like crazy. Your lace panties are drenched, and you’re so turned on that you feel as if you’re about to explode. You need to cum, you need to stop the ache in between your thighs.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t hook up with guys. This isn’t like you. But Joel… Joel is so devilishly handsome, so charming, a gentleman, a smooth talker. He practically got you off by just hovering over you and whispering dirty words into your ear. He was too much, this was too much. You should just go back home. But you want this. You want him.

You take one more long look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, hands digging into the sink as you give up completely. Fuck it. You want him, so you’ll have him.

When you open the door and leave the lit up bathroom, you about topple over as you hit something that feels like a thick brick wall. You look up and realize it’s Joel you crash into. You gawk at the way he leans up against the wall, clearly waiting for an answer from you.

“So, decide what you’re gonna do, angel?” he asks smoothly, his thick voice dripping like syrup all over you.

Fuck this. This man is a menace.

He takes a step forward and you take one back, a game of tag going on. But it’s not just any tag. No. He’s the hungry wolf, and he came to eat you alive.

“Not exactly…” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

He chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward and another, backing you up into the dark hallway that seems to go on for miles. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You can either leave or you can let me indulge you,” he purrs as he comes closer, chasing you like a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask out of breath, your voice getting choked up as you swallow down want and desire.

He clicks his tongue at you, coming in for the kill. “Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be coy. I can smell the arousal already drippin’ from you. Can see how bad you want this with the way your eyes widen and lips part for me,” he says seductively, pupils blowing out as he takes a step forward and another one until he’s successfully backed you into the darkest corner of the hallway he can manage.

You knock into the cold black wall and gasp when he cages you in, letting his hands linger against your thighs as you feel the heat of his fingertips press into your hip bones. He leans over and presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering incantations into it as you fall into a dreamlike trance.

“Y’know, there’s more than one way to seduce a lady. I can teach you so many things, angel. Can make you cum in more ways than one, can make you feel things you’ve only dreamt about,” he whispers, letting one of his hands run up the side of your thigh, gradually lifting your dress as he teases you with his hot breath hitting your ear.

“Yeah?” you ask audibly, your own voice betraying you as you give in to his coaxing.

“Mmmm. Yeah, that’s right. Ya want it, angel? Want me to show you what I’m talkin’ about?” he asks as he blows gently in your ear, making slick pool in your center as a whine gets caught in your throat.

“Mhm,” you choke out while holding in a moan.

“Say it. Say it,” he purrs out, the soft lilt of his voice hitting the back of your spine as tingles start to pour down your body. “Pretty, pretty please. Need to hear you say it,” he whispers, his hot breath breathing down your neck like a sauna you want to jump head first into.

“Yes, yes. Want you to show me,” you plead, your voice needy with want.

“Gotta say please first,” he teases as he spreads your legs apart and places his leg in between yours, hiking his knee up to brush against your clothed folds. You whine at the action.

“Please, Joel. Pleaseeee,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he praises as he lifts the skirt of your dress, cupping his hand over your sex as you writhe in his grasp. He smirks at you and pushes the lace to the side, freeing your wet pussy as the cold air hits it, making you bite your lip in response.

He slides two calloused fingers through your wet folds, gliding down lower as he sinks them inside your dripping hole. You moan at the feeling.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, angel,” he groans, hooking them up to that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. You choke on a moan as you clench around him.

“Ahh, there it is. There’s that sweet spot,” he purrs as he goes in knuckles deep into your wetness. He gently slides his digits out and drags his covered fingers up, up, up, as they find your clit and run slow, meticulous circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you moan out as you grab the front of his shirt and moan into his ear, digging your fingers into the cotton material as you hold on for dear life.

“That’s right, angel. Let me hear you, that’s a good girl,” he praises. He takes the two drenched fingers that were just inside you and pop them in his mouth, sucking off all the slick that covers his large digits. Your jaw drops at the sight.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he shifts his leg in between yours again, bending it just slightly as he cages you in again.

The room is hot, humid, loud, and you’re fully aware that anyone could walk down here and see you fully on display as Joel has his way with you. But you don’t care, don’t say anything about it. You just want him.

Him, him, him.

“Now, sweetheart. Gonna need you to do something for me. Call this lesson one on ways to get you off,” he instructs as he digs his hands into your hips and pulls you forward to where you’re level with his muscled thigh. “Want ya to ride me, angel,” he says, voice gravelly and hot in your ear.

“You want me to… ride you? How?” you ask with your brows knitted together.

“On my thigh, sweetheart. C’mon. Put that pretty pussy on my thigh. Want you to cover my jeans, baby. Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dragging your hips forward until you’re resting your center on his clothed thigh.

“Oh,” you respond as he slowly grinds your hips into his jeans, showing you exactly what he wants you to do. He lets go and lets you set the pace, taking control as your clit drags against the rough material, catching on the most sensitive areas as you pull him closer and dig your nails into his shirt, stifling out a moan as you move up and down, up and down. Feeling the building pressure low in your stomach as you choke on another moan.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl. Ride me just like that, angel. Doin’ so good,” he praises as you feel just how turned on he’s getting. The bulge is tight around his zipper, and you can see just how big and thick he is underneath the dark denim.

Fuck. You want him, you want him so fucking bad but you’ll have to wait because right now you can’t focus on anything but your building orgasm. It’s so… it’s sooo. Oh.

You rub your aching clit against the curve of his large thigh, grinding into him as you hit that spot again and again as you rut down into him even more, gripping the edge of his shirt so tight that you swear you’re about to rip it off him.

“Joellll, it feels good,” you moan with ragged breaths as he leans down and licks the shell of your ear, whispering dirty thoughts as his hot breath runs down the base of your neck, making you sweat against his large form.

“Yeah? Just like that, angel. Bein’ such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praises with a low, gravelly voice as it consumes you whole, sending more slick down his jeans as you continuously ruin his denim.

You moan again at the praise. This is so hot, he’s so hot. And he’s so good with his words. He could sweet talk you all night long just like this if he wanted to.

“You like that, huh? Like bein’ told how good of a girl you’re bein’,” he smirks, dragging his lips over your jaw as you smell his woodsy, whiskey scent all over you. You want to taste it, drink it up till you’re drunk on him, suffocate on his intoxicating scent as it spirals you into a pit of warmth.

“Yes, yes,” you whine as he presses his thigh deeper into your center, feeling the wave of pleasure take over as you’re right there. So close, but not quite there. Almost, almost.

“C’mon, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna see you coat my thigh with your sweet cum,” he growls, lowering his hands to your ass as he squeezes and presses your hips forward, rocking into his leg as you ride the pleasure out, feel that building release about to break.

He drops his plush lips against your neck and sucks just above your collarbone, right against the sensitive spot that drives you crazy as you moan against his lips on your skin. You feel the smirk grow on his lips as a low groan comes from his mouth as he bites down again, feeding your raw adrenaline that chases your pleasure.

The blaring music and chanting crowd disappears from the room, becoming muddled as you focus on what’s in front of you, the strong arms that grip you and clench you down to his thigh, the dark eyes that envelop you as you slide deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than your ragged moans, Joel’s labored breathing, the feel of his denim against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the calloused fingers that tease the back of your thighs, the hot breath that blows down your neck as he crowds your space. It’s just you and Joel, nothing else matters. Nothing else but this. Whatever this may be.

You jar forward, catching your clit on a wrinkle as it tugs at you, screaming your name to let go. Let go, let go. You can feel the white hot heat take hold of you, feel it slowly sliding down your center as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. You’re about to cum, about to release your heat all over him. And he knows. He knows.

“Don’t be shy, angel. Let me have it. Cum for me,” he growls dominantly, wrapping his hands tight around your waist as he pushes you down deep against the denim covering his thighs, pressing your throbbing clit at just the right spot as you feel yourself let go.

You dig your fingers into the collar of his shirt and press your face against the crook of his neck as you cum hard, feeling the slick spill out of you as you tense up over his thigh, squeezing your fingers around him as you moan his name loudly into his ear, hearing your breath hitch as he hums in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Say my name. Yeah, just like that. There ya go,” he praises as he rocks you gently against his thigh, making sure you get every ounce of cum out of your dripping pussy.

You take a minute to come back down to earth, back to where you don’t hear the ringing in your ears, where you don’t see the bright lights covering your vision anymore. He slowly lets his hands loosen around your waist, gently leaning you back against the wall as he slides you off his thigh, covering your soaked folds with your ruined panties as he sets them back in place against your center. You wince as his fingers brush up over your sensitive clit and let him pull your skirt back down over your thighs.

He takes a step back and brushes his fingers against the damp stain on his jeans, slowly bringing them up to his mouth as he sucks his thick digits into his mouth, lapping up your slick as he stares straight at you with blown out pupils, making you gawk at the sight.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Goddamn.” He curses again under his breath and drops them to his side as he sticks them deep in his pocket looking for something. Whatever he grabs, he covers it in the base of his palm, not letting you quite see what it is.

“Did you enjoy that… lesson?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up as he stares at you with wild eyes, his tousled curls a mess as sweat beads at a few of the curls pressed against his forehead.

Lesson? Does this mean there would be more?

“Mhm,” you hum out, too fucked out to give a straight answer right now as you were still stuck on the fact that this man had just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life. Not even your vibrator was a match for him. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet or put his cock in you. That was saying something.

He was dangerous, tempting, a bad habit you could get used to. He was trouble, a menace. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care. You wanted more, needed more from him. Just him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, smirking up at you as he lifts your chin and brushes his calloused thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes trailing down to stare at them as if he was thinking of sinking his mouth down on you. You hold your breath, not ready for that yet. It was too soon, too intimate of a thing.

He drops his thumb from your lip and trails it against your jawline, dropping down a level so his eyes sink into yours.

Fuck, he’s hot.

“If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I’m just a phone call away.” He grabs your hand as he sticks a business card in your palm, closing your fingers over it as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of your knuckles as you suck in a deep breath as his soft lips kiss your skin. It feels good. So good.

“Hope to see you soon, angel.” He drops your hand back to your side as he winks and smirks a devilish grin your way, turning back around as he makes his way back towards the rush of the crowd, entering the noise once more as you watch him disappear into a sea of people as his tousled curls get pulled into the bodies, leaving you standing in shock in the dark alone.

You uncurl your fingers and run them along the edge of the glossy white business card. You turn it over and read it once, twice, three times as your eyes widen. You read it once more to make sure your eyes don’t deceive you, but you only see the same thing sprawled across the card each time. It reads Joel Miller: Owner of Club Inferno. His number sits above the words, leaving you breathless as you realize just who you were talking to earlier. Who you were complaining to earlier.

Holy shit. Joel was the club owner?!

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You were in trouble. You were in so much fucking trouble. How would you show your face here again? You wouldn’t. Unless…. unless you decided to come back for more. And you wanted more with him.

You take a deep breath and lean against the cold wall, trying to get ahold of yourself as you rethink everything that had happened tonight. The drinks, the conversations, the flirting, the fucking part where he made you cum while he pressed you against his strong, muscular body.

As you close your eyes for a second and swallow down your orgasmic high from minutes ago, you slowly open them back up and come to terms with yourself. You can’t see yourself not coming back here and not letting him give you another lesson…

You need it, need him. You’d never had a man make you feel so bold, so sexy before in your life. And the way he was all about what felt good to you? Well it was… exhilarating. You wanted more, craved more. So you knew right then, you had to come back. For one more thrill, one more touch, one more orgasm. You’d come back… for him.

Joel Miller was going to be the fucking bane of your existence, you just knew it.

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