#— ⟢ all you’re giving me is fiction ⦂ ⋰ * ✧ ANSWERED MESSAGE.

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?�� Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[anniflamma]

So I’ve received a couple of anonymous messages telling me that they were really disappointed in me for liking Elian's Antinous fanart. Instead of answering them individually, I’m just going to make an angry rant post instead. Most of if probably won't make sense anyway.

This post have talk about SA, and homophobia. Be aware. I don’t ship genuinely Telemachus and Antinous, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t even consider the possibility that ship could even exist. At the end of the day, I don't care about that ship.

And do you want me to explain that I know SA is bad? Or that I’m aware Telemachus/Antinous is a toxic ship? Do you think I’m dumb and don’t know that? You don't have to explain to me either, I know that SA is bad, I have experienced it, you don't have to explain to me, trust me I know.

I like Elian's art because it’s really beautiful. Her work is a huge inspiration and encouragement for me when making animatics. But do I REALLY have to spell out, word for word, that I know Antinous is an antagonist and tries to do bad things? Does it mean every time someone draws Antinous and I like it, I have to explain that I like the drawing because it’s well done, not because I support Antinous’ intent toward Penelope and wants to kill Telemachus?

I mean, I’ve seen tons of thirsty comments like, "I hate how Zeus treats women, but your design is really hot" or "Even if Poseidon SA Demeter, this Poseidon I'd go down on all fours for!"

I have seen some stuff….

I guess I could just imitate something like that????

But I know it’s a joke and I know its a fantasy that someone is expressing. Its not real, its fictional. I know all those thirsty ppl who simp over Poseidon, Zeus, or even Antinous aren’t supporting hatred and violence toward women. And yes, I am expecting that you should already know this too. Because if we gonna assume the worst of ppl… Then everyone who likes Greek myth/Epic the musical are pro SA. "Do you like Crice from Epic the musical? That means that you support her actions, you support SA!" "Oh you like Odysseus?! He killed a baby and all of his female slaves cuz they got SA by the suitors! You support infanticide, slavery and SA!" Do you hear how dumb that sounds? To be honest, I wouldn’t be that surprised if there are some who think like this. I mean, this discussion wouldn’t even be a thing, right.

And if you don’t know, I literally make thirst art of Poseidon (and that includes Zeus and Hermes), and you don’t see it as a bad thing??? It’s Poseidon… Do you know what he has done to women in the myths?!

Im going to ramble here and I will bring up stories from greek myth that have SA in it. So be aware.

One example is the story of Caeneus. When Caeneus was a woman, his parents left him to take care of the house while they were out running errands. Poseidon took that as an opportunity to break into the house and sexually assault him. This is probably the only myth where Poseidon actually feels bad after what he did, so he grants Caeneus a wish. Aww, how sweet~~~ /sarcasm.

Do I need to give an example of Zeus? We all know what Zeus does. But hey, I’ve made Poseidon/Hermes ship art. And guess what? There’s a story where Hermes breaks a woman’s leg so she can’t run away from him, and then he sexually assaults her. Isn’t that cute~~! /sarcasm

Heck, I can even go on with my biblical ships. David/Jonathan—David, a serial assaulter and murderer, and Jonathan, a mass murderer. But do I support their actions? No, I do not support mass murder, and its really dumb that I have to spell it out for you.

Daniel/Darius is even questionable too! It's literally a king and his servant, and that power imbalance is so big I don’t know what to tell you! Do I have to spell it out that I know that, in real life, king/servant relationships aren’t cute at all?!

All of these characters that I’ve listed have done or represent horrible things. And I have to tell you that I don't support their actions?! Really? You really can't think outside the box?

But do you see what I’m trying to tell you? We can simp over other ancient mythological figures but Antinous is the red line that we can never cross??? It’s hypocritical and immature, that’s what it is.

Right now, ppl loves the Ody seduces Zeus art I made. And that "ship" is well really questionable too! But nobody have called me a witch and tries to burn me at the stake yet. 😐

And the thing is, I can separate these fictional characters from the real world. I can also separate the fictional material from other fictional interpretations. Exemple, I like The Song of Achilles, in it, they are the same age, but I am also aware that in the Iliad, Achilles is 16 and Patroclus is 26. But do I automatically assume that Madeline Miller likes teens? No! Do I assume that everyone who likes The Song Of Achilles like that shit? No!

But we still can have a disscussion about it without making it into a witch trial.

As long as we can separate different fictional materials, then everything is fine. It only becomes a problem if a person can’t separate them. Then we have a problem. I can acknowledge that my depiction of King David from the bible is not the same as from the original story and that he is horrible person towards women. If I couldn't acknowledge that, then its bad! The same goes for Antinous if someone makes an AU or headcanon about him. If someone want so make AUs about Antinous, my first thoughts isnt "Oh they like to SA ppl!". At the end of the day, this is just a group from tiktok who didn’t like a toxic ship and decided to bully an artist while acting like they have superior morals.

And I get this type of shit from christians when I make my queer bible interpitations, both from those that don't like the queer stuff but also those that points out that David and Jonathan were horrible ppl.

So I rarely answer comments like this because they usually end up spewing beliefs filled with homophobia and Islamophobia. Heck rasism sometimes, apparently, Christians don’t know that the Bible takes place in the Middle East, and they are angry at me for drawing them looking like Arabs! I just delete their comments before they gets there. Making queer biblical animatics on TikTok that go viral on the Christian side is not fun at all guys....

And hate to say it but tiktok Epic fans sound really similar. You are acting like you’re on a pedestal, holier than thou. Its just a different font.

+ I haven’t forgotten all those homophobic comments I got on my David/Jonathan animatic that I posted right after my Ruthlessness animatic. Epic fans were saying they didn’t want “that gay shit” and wanted to see more Epic stuff. Hate to break it to you all, but the Epic fandom isn’t that innocent.

[oftlunarialmoon]

75 Agere Journal Prompts

Draw yourself a kawaii bento lunch!

Write down any chores for the day as a to-do list or sticker check off list

Design a smol outfit

Make a playlist for your littlespace

Draw portraits of your stuffies

Write your headcanons for your comfort characters as caregivers

Write down some animal facts from different parts of the world that interest you!

List items that are your favorite color

Make a magazine collage with a specific theme

List ideas you want to do in certain seasons

List your favorite agere nicknames

Write down any agere headcanons you have for fictional characters or OCs

List stuffie name ideas

List all your current stuffie names

List your favorite phone apps for littlespace

Make a tier list of your opinions on different types of candy

Draw what your favorite characters would look like as stuffies

Invent a new kidcore fashion trend

List 5 facts about your favorite sea animal

Design your Jolly Roger if you were a pirate

Draw yourself as a Pokemon Trainer

List how you deal with stress in agere methods

Write out any recipes you can make while regressed

List crafts you’d like to make

Make a page about your morning routine when regressed

Make a page about your night time routine when regressed

Write out any rules or guidelines you have when regressed

What’s on your Agere/Littlespace Movies list?

Write about what you would do on a visit to the beach

List any animes you like when small

List your favorite agere books

Dear Past Me - What would you tell your past self?

Dear Future Me - What would you tell your future self?

List songs that make you regress

List your regression triggers (positive or negative)

Write about how you would comfort a friend in need

Write about your dream vacation

Make your christmas/birthday/holiday gift wishlist

List your fave agere video games

List your favorite stims

Write a letter to your favorite fictional character

Write a letter to a friend or family member

Play I spy and write down the categories and things you find

Make a page of your top 5 agere songs from the last month

List free activities you can do when regressed

Make a collage page from a coloring sheet and stickers

Play scavenger hunt with stickers of your preferred theme

Use a page to write down word games like word scrambles and mad libs

Fill a page with positive messages for yourself to read later

Write down tarot interpretations if you do tarot reading while smol

List ideas for kandi bracelets you could make

Declare a random day a holiday of some kind, write down how you celebrate it

Use a page to “braindump” all of your current thoughts, even if it’s babbling

Make a sticker collage inspired by your caregiver

Make a sticker collage inspired by the seasons

Trace your hand onto the page and give yourself fun nail art, tattoos, or accessories

Draw a race track for a toy car, add obstacles or scenery with stickers

Write a social media profile page for a comfort character

Make a “top secret” file with your stuffie’s secrets >:)

Make a collage inspired by yourself

Dedicate a page to facts about one of your special interests

Write a poem for your pet (or fave stuffie!)

Draw a scene around a sticker of your favorite animal

Draw the inside of a house and use stickers to furnish and decorate it

Draw a scene to play with your toys in

Try a mindful reset page (List problems you’re facing, then list more positive mindset changes to each one)

Document the stories you play out with dolls or toys

Write down “this or that” prompts in one color then answer them in another color !

Use stickers to tell a story or make a fun comic

Fill a page with word art, using any words that make you feel smol

Make a list of all of your OCs

Use a page to document Minecraft coordinates of your favorite builds

Draw the outline of a purse or bag, and use stickers to show what a character of your choice would have in their bag, or-

Use stickers to show what you would put in your dream agere bag!

Draw a face on a page in marker or pen, and use makeup to decorate it! (or face paint :p)

[piedinthepiper]

You owe me (pt. 2) ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader x mafia!Taehyung (slightly)

Summary: His efforts seem pointless. But when it comes to jealousy, anger and you, he just can’t help himself. And neither can you.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dubcon, stalking?, breaking and entering, mention of murder, mention of other types of crimes, angst, weapons (a knife), cursing, male m, descriptive smut, angst

Wc: 7.4k

A/n: Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on this fic. Since so many wanted a part 2 I made a part 2! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

Your back felt a sudden relief as you finally laid down in bed. It had been a long day. A very long day. A new patient took up almost all you time. Taehyung Kim. He was being charged with robbery and murder, and his lawyer had hired you to potentially give him a diagnosis that could help him in court.

You had to assign some of your other patients to a few of your coworkers, just to make time for him. But this is what you love doing. You wanted to help. Especially now, after what you learned about your entire career. You wanted to prove yourself. You knew you were good.

You turned off you lights and put your phone on the nightstand. Finally you were in the comfort of your own bed. Ready to fall asleep and dream the night away. Trying not to think about how early you had to wake up tomorrow. You had finally found a comfortable sleeping position after squirming around a bit. You felt all your muscles relax, starting to recognise the slow fade of sleep.

But suddenly a loud noice filled the room. Your body tensed again, jumping at the sudden sound. You rolled your eyes as you turned around, annoyed at yourself that you forgot to turn on ‘do not disturb’. Your phone screen lit up in your face, you squinted at the bright light hitting your eyes. You managed to decipher a message from an unknown number. You didn’t open it, writing a mental note to check it out tomorrow. If it was one of your patients they would have to wait until the morning. It was almost unprofessional to answer a text at 1 am.

You entered the doors to your workplace, expecting to see Erin behind the counter smiling at you.

“Good morning, Erin.”

You said like you always do. You halted once you saw her sitting there, not smiling, not saying anything. She just looked at you with a concerning look. Before you could ask her what’s wrong you looked over at the waiting chairs. You had seen a person in your peripheral view, something that was odd considering the office wasn’t even open to patients yet. You quickly understood what was going on once you saw who was sitting there.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

His familiar voice filled the dead quiet room. It had almost been a year since you last saw him. He had not contacted you after the incident in your office. You had almost, almost, forgotten him. But there he was, looking the exact same as you remembered him.

“Mr. Jeon.”

You stated. Not really knowing what to say. You were caught off guard by the whole situation. Some naive part of you thought that he had gotten what he wanted and would leave you alone. Forever.

“I thought you had stopped calling me that. Aren’t we more intimate at this point?”

You sighed at his question. Looking over at Erin for a second to see if she understood what he meant.

“He said he wanted to see you. I told him we wer-“

“It’s fine Erin, Mr. Jeon can be quite persuasive.”

You interrupted her as she started to apologise for letting him in. You looked back to him. His classic smirk was plastered on his face.

“I have an hour before my first patient arrives.”

You said and looked quickly at your wristwatch, before starting to walk down the hall towards your office. You heard his footsteps following behind you.

Once inside your office you took off your jacket and hung it up before sitting down behind your desk. He was quick to sit down on the sofa. A sense of deja vu washed over you.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?”

He looked confused by your question.

“You didn’t see my messages? Or my voicemails?”

It was your turn to look confused, as you couldn’t remember getting any texts or calls from him.

“Maybe you were asleep, I don’t know.”

He shrugged. You remembered the message from last night. The one you didn’t bother to read. You picked your phone up from your bag, turning off ‘do not disturb’. Hundreds of notifications from the same number appeared on your lock screen.

“You were the one that messaged me last night?”

You asked as you opened your phone.

“So you did read them?”

He asked in excitement. You shook your head at his question, too focused on your phone. You opened iMessage and hit the top notification. A series of long paragraphs of text appeared.

“I didn’t think it was you.”

You mumbled as you scrolled upwards trying to get to the start of what he had sent you.

“Listen, I’ll just tell you. It feels weird to watch you read something I poured my heart into.”

You looked up at him, before you put the phone down on your desk. Crossing your arms over your chest.

“Be quick.”

He thought for a second about where to start and what the most important things to tell you were.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m ready now.”

The room went quiet as you waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

You asked confused.

“That’s the brief version of it. You told me to be quick.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I think I need a little more than that.”

He smiled at you like a child telling a joke for the first time. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve seen another psychologist. He’s helped me a lot. I’m doing well, I’m not some self absorbed dick, I’m not so angry anymore. And I’ve gotten to know your father as well. I’ve done my end of the promise, now it’s your turn, y/n.”

He got serious at the last sentence. Shifting his eyes from the innocent doe, to the man you remembered from your last meeting.

“You went to my father?”

You asked in shock, not caring for whatever he said after that.

“Yeah. Might as well get to know my future father-in-law a little better while I fulfilled my promise.”

You let your head fall down to your hands, and let out a long sigh. Visibly showing him that you were upset.

“I’m happy you’re doing better, I really am. But I did not promise you anything. Definitely not to marry you.”

His eyes changed again. You could tell he was upset.

“Don’t you think you owe me that?”

He asked slyly, cocking his head slightly to the side. You shook your head.

“You can’t hold that over my head forever. It’s not fair!”

You answered strictly.

“I’m not holding it over your head, baby. I’m asking you.”

“Well, then my answer is no. I don’t owe you shit. Now get out of my office.”

You answered quickly. Wanting him to leave so you didn’t get too upset, and started making bad decisions again.

“We don’t have to get married right away, or not at all if you just want to be my girlfriend.”

He offered. You suddenly stood up from your chair, pointing angrily towards the door.

“Out.”

You said.

“I don’t care if I owe you. I don’t care if you’ve gotten better. You’re still a mobster, you’re still a murderer and you’re still a sociopath. I could never date you. I could never even be friends with you. Don’t you understand?”

You ranted when he didn’t leave the sofa. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

He asked, still not looking up at you. He was frightening like that. You felt the same fear, you felt the first time he talked to you like that. He was showing his true colours.

“Who?”

You asked carefully as you sat back down again. He looked up at you with anger and jealousy in his eyes.

“Your new patient. The jailbird, you spend a lot of time with him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and? He’s nothing but my patient.”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen him on the news, he’s quite attractive. Just your type.”

You scoffed and gave him an offended look.

“Yes I’m sure. Who are you to accuse me of having an affair with a patient?”

“Because you had one with me.”

You sighed.

“We did not have an affair.”

You stated, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Then what do you call it?”

The room got quiet. To be honest you never thought about what you would call it. You didn’t want to think about it at all. It went against everything you stood for.

“Please, just leave.”

You said, you felt your eyes getting watery for some reason. Maybe it was because you were scared, or surprised. Or maybe even sad to see him again.

“I can tell you’re upset. We still need to work things out. Can we talk sometime? Not here, somewhere not so formal.”

You looked up at him again. His eyes were soft, he seemed to really care that you were affected negatively by this. For some reason you found it endearing.

“You can come to my place, we can talk and-“

“There’s no way I’m voluntarily going to your place.”

You interrupted him. He looked down in defeat for a few seconds.

“Please, y/n. I just want to show you that I’m better. I want to show you all I’ve done for you. I don’t want to argue with you.”

He said softly. His eyes were also teary now. You hated yourself for getting affected by his feelings. You hated that you thought this was a tender moment.

“Do you promise that we’ll only be talking?”

You asked. Not knowing why you were agreeing to this in the first place. Maybe you were naive, but it seemed that he actually had changed. Even if he still was delusional and obsessive.

“Of course, I would never do anything to harm you. I love you.”

He said, slightly excited. The room got quiet once again. You had silently agreed to meet him at his place.

“I’ll send you the address. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He said, before getting up and walking out the door.

“Wait-“

You tried to say, but he was already gone. You wouldn’t be able to make it on Thursday.

You sat down at the table, waiting for the guards to bring in Mr. Kim. This week had been stressful. Not only because of your case with Mr. Kim, but also because of all your other patients. It was hard having time for them while handling such a big case as his. You had to work overtime the entire week, and you were exhausted.

“Good afternoon, y/n.”

He said as two guards brought him in. He had learned your first name quickly, and refused to use your title or last name.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. How are you?”

He smiled, and waited to answer until the guards had chained his legs to the table and left the room. You never felt unsafe being alone with him, even if he was a convicted murderer. His hands were always handcuffed, the same with his legs, so he couldn’t reach you. You knew the guards watched you from outside the big tinted glass. It allowed you to lower your guard, and treat him like you treat your other patients.

“I’m doing amazing now that you’re here.”

He said and smirked. Like Jungkook said, he was attractive. His hair was always combed back, and the all grey clothing actually suited him. He had some kind of lightning tattoo that went up his neck, due to his clothing you didn’t know if he had any more of them.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

He asked back. Still keeping intense eye contact with you.

“We did talk about not calling me anything but my name, do you remember that?”

You asked him strictly. He chuckled.

“It’s hard not to call you something you are, don’t you like compliments?”

You started taking off your coat. It was cold when you entered, but with two people in the little room it was too warm to keep your wool coat on.

“We’re not here to talk about me. I’ve given you permission to use my first name, that’s all.”

You said as you draped the coat over your chair. You looked back at him, he wasn’t looking you in your eyes anymore. This time his eyes were focused on your exposed cleavage. You hadn’t worn low cut tops with him yet, only oversized jumpers due to the weather. You suddenly became very aware of yourself and pulled your top up, trying to hide more of your cleavage. His eyes went back to your face, and you decided that you would wear something less revealing next time.

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

He put extra pressure on your name this time. You gave him a small smile, before you looked down at your notes.

“Why don’t we start were we ended things? Do you remember what I told you I wanted us to talk about?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“My teenage years?”

He asked. You nodded back at him.

“I was a good teenager, I didn’t do drugs, I came home before my curfew, did well in school.”

He memorised.

“But I did like girls. I really did. It was my weakness.”

He said, quickly flickering his eyes down to your cleavage again.

“Why do you say it was your weakness?”

You asked, writing it down in your notes. He started smirking again.

“Since I was such a good teenager, I stayed home a lot. After I did my homework or studied for tests I didn’t have anything to do. Until I found porn.”

He let out a groan, almost like he was in pleasure just by the thought.

“I would spend all day just jerking off to random girls online. Whenever I saw a pretty girl outside I would go straight home and jerk off to her too.”

You felt yourself getting a bit uncomfortable at his bluntness, but didn’t say anything to let him continue. You focused on your notes instead.

“It would take up my entire day, I felt crazy at times. And now that I don’t have anything to do, I find myself doing the same in my cell.”

You nodded, still looking down at your notes. Not wanting to look at him while he talked about something so intimate.

“But the only one I can think about is you.”

He said almost as if he was out of breath. You finally looked at him. And saw that one of his hands had slid under the waistband of his trousers.

“Come over here and sit on me, baby.”

He moaned. You didn’t know what to do or say, you froze. The door opened and two guards came in.

“No- please! Y/n! Please fuck me! I need you. I fucking need you so bad!”

He yelled as he was practically carried out of the room. You sat there speechless, in the now empty room.

“I think it’s best for him to have a male psychologist, I can no longer treat him.”

You called Mr. Kim’s lawyer the minute you sat down in your car. You told him what had happened.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He said back.

“I’ll send all my notes to the man you’ll appoint.”

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Y/l/n.”

You said a small goodbye, before you hung up. While you were driving home you started to think about what happened today. You felt useless and it felt unfair. Why did you have to end up in all kinds of mess. First it was Jungkook, and now Mr. Kim.

Jungkook. You had completely forgot that you were supposed to meet him today. You sighed. Meeting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe it was better to just say you forgot if he contacts you again. Since your session ended earlier than expected, you would actually have time to eat a proper meal and go to bed at a reasonable time. And with Mr. Kim’s case being transferred to someone else, you could finally use all your time on your normal patients. Even if the day had been horrible, you still had a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.

You walked up to your door, struggling with your keys to find the right one. Once you found it you put it in the keyhole and twisted, hearing the familiar click. You reached for the door handle and attempted to open it. But it didn’t budge. Did you not lock your door this morning? You twisted the key the other way again, and thought that it must be the exhaustion taking a toll on you.

When you finally were inside your own house you took off your coat and hung it up with your bag. You took off your shoes and looked at yourself in the big mirror you have in your hallway. You looked down at the white low cut top. It wasn’t even that low, but a part of your cleavage did show. In what felt like a fit of rage you took it off yourself. Hurriedly lifting it over your head and throwing it on the floor. You never wanted to wear that top again. You stormed over to the kitchen. You needed something to drink, you were so thirsty. So thirsty that you failed to notice the man sitting in your sofa. You swung the fridge door open, grabbing a carton of orange juice and downing what was left of it.

“Rough day?”

A voice emitted. You jumped and your heart started raising. You looked over at the sofa where the voice came from. Jungkook? Jungkook. You quickly ducked down behind the counter, remembering that you were only in your bra.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

You yelled at him. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, you were so confused. What was going on?

“Y/n, calm down! Please.”

You heard him get up from the sofa, taking hasty steps towards you. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you suddenly jumped up again and grabbed a knife. Pointing it towards him. He quickly halted, putting his hands slightly up in front of him.

“Come on, it’s just me.”

He said, leaning his head to the side.

“Exactly!”

You said, slowly moving away from him.

“Why are you here? How did you get in?”

You yelled at him, firmly holding the knife between the two of you.

“Baby, please calm down.”

“How can I calm down?! You broke into my house!”

He sighed, and went quiet for a moment.

“Put the knife down, you know I won’t do anything to you. Please, let’s just talk. That’s why I’m here.”

He said in a calm voice. You shook your head, you felt like you were going to have a panic attack. This was all too much for you. You threw the knife onto the kitchen counter and covered your eyes. You started crying. You were so overwhelmed. From the situation earlier today, to Jungkook suddenly appearing in your life again, to just the pure exhaustion. You needed to cry. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You couldn’t put up the facade you usually do. And suddenly you felt two arms wrapping around you. He hugged you. And for a moment you leaned into it. You felt safe in his arms. It comforted you. It reminded you of when your father hugged you after your first boyfriend broke up with you. It was like knowing that someone cared for you when you felt as if the whole world was against you. Until you remembered who was hugging you. Because it definitely wasn’t your father. And the reality of you standing in just your bra with someone that broke into your house hit.

“Get off of me!”

You suddenly screamed, and started pushing his strong chest. Tears still streaming down your face.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Jungkook! My life has been a nightmare since the minute I met you!”

You screamed at him with all your lung capacity. Your throat got immediately sore.

“You’re fucking crazy! And I’m tired of playing your fucking games!”

He took several steps away from you, but you walked after him. Pointing your finger in his face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you?! How can you be so fucking awful?! You’re an awful person!”

He continued to stay silent through your fit of rage. Letting you ride it out.

“I hate you.”

You said, calming down but still crying.

“I hate you so much.”

You said taking a deep breath. You wiped your tears. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Speechless. You adverted your eyes to the floor.

“Please leave. Can you please leave me alone? Please, just-“

You started, continuing to wipe your tears. You had resulted to begging him to leave your life.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook. I can’t.”

He grabbed your chin softly, raising your head up to meat his eyes. He was also crying. He silently kissed you. And you let him, too exhausted to do anything else. He pecked your lips, before walking away. He left you there, all alone in your kitchen. As you heard the door close behind him you fell down to the floor. Continuing to weep.

After a month of silence from your former patient you felt content. It had been a month, and there was no sign of him. Your life had gone back to normal again. It was definitely a good thing to tell him exactly what you meant. This time you had been harsh on him, to make him understand you were definitely not interested.

After three months you started thinking that maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe you should’ve eased him out of your life. Not gone all crazy on him. But he didn’t contact you, and you were definitely not going to contact him. So telling him that you were sorry was out of the question.

On the fourth month you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to contact him. Just to tell him you were sorry for being mean of course. He was really attached to you in his own weird way. Getting rejected by someone you had planned out your entire life with must be hard. What if he had gone back to his old ways? What if your rejection caused him to live in agony? To fall into depression?

On the fifth month you found yourself standing in the lobby of his hotel. If you were going to apologise, you were going to do it in person. That’s way more genuine rather than over a text. You definitely didn’t want to see him again, but anything for a real heartfelt apology!

“I’d like to see Mr. Jeon, is he here?”

You asked before the receptionist could say anything. He smiled at you.

“Is Mr. Jeon expecting you?”

He asked in a costumer support voice. You shook your head.

“No he isn’t.”

You answered short.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you access to his suite if he’s not expecting you.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew you had to lie.

“He’s not expecting me, but I’m his psychologist, ok? I need to talk with him, it’s important.”

You said in your serious voice. Shoving your business card in his face like you were a cop.

“I’m sorry-“

“You will be sorry if you don’t help me out here.”

You hit your palms onto the counter before you. The man slightly jumped at your action.

“Look, I’m not asking for the fucking key to his nightstand, I just want to know his room number for gods sake!”

You were starting to get annoyed at the poor man just trying to do his job. He looked quite frightened at your outburst. He thought for a second, before he nodded.

“717.”

He simply said. You thanked him and hurried over to the elevator. Once you reached his door you stopped yourself. Was this really the right thing to do? Maybe you should just leave, he wasn’t your concern anymore. Why weren’t you happy he was out of your life? Why? Why? Why?! The door suddenly opened, and you were sucked out of your thoughts. A man stood there, a familiar man, but not Jungkook.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He said with a smirk on his face. He quickly pulled you into a hug. Letting his hands drop dangerously low on your waist. He took a deep inhale of your hair, letting out a small groan. It gave you instantly chills in all the wrong places. You tried pulling away from the incredibly awkward hug, but his grip on you was tight. He decided when the hug ended, but stayed close to you. Resting his hands on your hips.

“Let go of me! What are you doing here?”

You asked him and tried to get som distance from him, pushing at his chest. But his strong grip on your hips didn’t loosen.

“What are you doing here is the real question. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be in a hotel like this.”

“Get off of me!”

He smirked and leaned in closer to you again. Whispering in your ear.

“Why don’t you come with me to my room? I still can’t get you off my mind, sweetheart.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to you. Taehyung reacted immediately. Jungkook. You looked at him, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were focused on Taehyungs hands, planted on your hips.

“She said ‘get off’.”

He almost growled. Taehyung smiled, but removed his hands. Putting them defensively up in the air.

“Sorry, boss. Just had to catch up with my psychologist. She’s the girl I told you about.”

Taehyung started. You were in shock. They knew each other?

“I know.”

He answered and looked at you for the first time. There was a sort of a melancholy feeling in his eyes.

“You know it all, man. I’ll just-“

“Leave.”

Jungkook finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, leave. I’ll leave. Nice seeing you again, y/n. We have to meet up sometime.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You answered quickly, not taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“I won’t take no for an answer, baby.”

Taehyung said and stepped closer to you again.

“Yes you will, now leave.”

Jungkook said strictly.

“Okaaay, I’ll leave. Whatever.”

He said and walked away. You followed Taehyung with your eyes, watching as he disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall. When you looked back at Jungkook, you discovered he had been staring at you the entire time. You felt anger building up inside you.

“Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

You said, you almost sounded hurt.

“It’s not like that.”

He answered. You rolled your eyes at him. He didn’t exactly sound convincing. You had no intention of apologising to him anymore.

“Let me guess, you didn’t hire Mr. Kim to ruin my case so I could run back right into your arms? It was just a convenience that you were waiting for me when I came home, right?”

You asked in a sarcastic tone. He went quiet. You scoffed and turned to walk away. He grabbed your arm harshly so you couldn’t leave.

“I didn’t, I promise. Let me explain, please.

You sighed.

“Let me go.”

He shook his head.

“Y/n, just come-“

“Let me go.”

You interrupted him. After a few seconds he listened to you, and let go of your arm. You stood still, contemplating if you should leave for good this time. Instead, you slipped passed him into his room. His suite was huge, it was more like an apartment really. Modern with expensive furniture and paintings scattered around the room. He had a lot of money, you knew that, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“You better explain-“

You were suddenly caught off guard by his strong arms turning you around and embracing you in a tight hug.

“You came back to me! I knew you would! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again, baby!”

He said in a boyish tone. It was a sharp contrast to his interaction with Taehyung. You weren’t able to immediately react, getting lost in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you once again.

“Stop it, Jungkook. I’m still angry with you.”

You said and wiggled out of his hug. He looked at you with hurt in his eyes as he saw you brushing off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“I understand. Sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”

He said and walked out of the room. You did as you were told, sitting down on his white cashmere sofa. He came back with two cups of tea, placing them carefully on the glass table before sitting down beside you. You didn’t say anything, you waited for him to say the first word.

“Just uh- please just listen to me ok?”

He asked and looked at you. You nodded.

“I didn’t exactly plan this. Taehyung was stupid enough to get caught and ended up in prison. I told my lawyer to get you on his case. I knew a case like that would be amazing for your career.”

You shook your head disappointedly.

“I’ve told you I don’t want your help. Why-“

“Listen, y/n. Please just let me explain.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, but you stayed silent.

“Anyways, after a while he confessed to me that he was in love with you.”

You watched his entire body go stiff at his statement. He clenched his fists in jealousy.

“You know I’m willing to go lengths for you to succeed, baby. But- I had to stop him. I refuse to let him have you like that. Especially when we weren’t even talking to each other. So that night I sent you all those messages.”

He unclenched his hands and put his hand carefully on your knee.

“I knew he would do whatever I told him to, so I said if he got you out of the case I’d get him out of prison.”

“So you asked him to jerk off in front of me?”

Jungkooks face changed drastically. He did not seem pleased about the new piece of information you just gave him.

“He did that?”

He asked, his tone had changed from apologetic to dangerous. You nodded. His grip around your knee tightened. You put your hand over his, to show him that he was hurting you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

He said looking you straight in the eye. Another set of chills ran down your back. You knew he meant it. It was not a loose threat.

“This isn’t about him, Jungkook. You pushed him do it. And then you broke into my house, expecting to be treated like some kind of hero.”

You pushed his hand off your knee. He started staring into the air. A million thoughts running through his head.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that your behaviour is insane?”

You stated. He was still being quiet.

“You need to stop.”

You said a little calmer, trying to comfort him.

“I did.”

He said and looked at you.

“I did stop, because that’s what I thought you wanted. But now you were the one that came to me.”

He caught you off guard. It was your turn to be quiet this time.

“I’ll always do what’s best for you, because I love you, y/n. I don’t care how insane I sound or look to you. But why are you here if you think that of me?”

You looked away from him, knowing you had no rebuttal.

“You called me an awful person, you told me you hated me. And I can take it. But I can’t take another rejection from you! I just can’t!”

He raised his voice now. He was getting emotional.

“I’m sorry.”

You said so lightly it was almost a whisper. He stopped ranting and the room got quiet.

“That’s why I came here. To tell you that I’m sorry.”

You looked back to him again. His eyes were big and filled with so much love. You had never seen him like that before.

“I’m sorry I said I hated you, and that you’re crazy and an awful person. None of it true.”

He nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. You became quiet again.

“Is that it?”

He asked carefully. You nodded, shifting awkwardly in the sofa.

“Yeah, I should probably leave.”

You said, taking his hint. Preparing to walk out and never seeing him again.

“No.”

He said, and shifted towards the end of the seat.

“No, not like that.”

He said in a hurry, and took ahold of you hands. You looked confused at him.

“I didn’t mean for you to leave. Don’t leave.”

He sounded almost desperate, clinging onto your hands. You nodded and gave him a short smile.

“What I meant to say is, is that the only reason you came here?”

You thought for a second. Was saying sorry the only reason you came? That’s at least what you told yourself. But at the same time you felt like you owed him more. You didn’t know what you felt. You had been an emotional wreck for months now.

“Yes.”

You answered. Trying to keep cool and not overthink the entire situation. You didn’t want to see him, you had to. Because you’re a good person. That’s all. That’s it. But it didn’t feel like it. It definitely didn’t feel like it. It felt like you longed to see him.

“You’re lying.”

You were ripped out of your thoughts by his statement. You shook your head defensively.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but he spoke first.

“If it was a clear ‘yes’ you wouldn’t have to think about it. I know you better than you think, y/n.”

He repositioned himself so he could look right at you.

“Come on, ask me anything about yourself and I’ll tell you.”

You looked briefly at your wristwatch.

“I don’t know, maybe I should leave.”

“Just give me a chance, y/n.”

He said.

“If I don’t get it right I’ll let you leave.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but still turning more towards him, accepting his offer.

“What’s my mothers name?”

You asked. He gave you a knowing look.

“Come on, that’s easy. Give me something that isn’t on Google.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t say her name though.”

“Christina, now give me something good. Something deep.”

You smiled, but had to think for a second.

“When did I loose my virginity?”

His smile turned to a smirk.

“You were 16 at Mae’s birthday party. You were drinking, and her boyfriend August hit on you. He took you to her bed and fucked you right there. No wonder Mae isn’t your friend anymore. You’re a bitch.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Deep down it was scary that he knew something so intimate in great detail, but for some reason you were having fun with his little game.

“Ok ok. But now it’s your turn, when did you loose your virginity?”

He let out a nervous laugh at your question.

“This quiz isn’t about me.”

He stated and pulled his hand through his hair. You tilted your head slightly downwards and looked at him through your lashes and with a pout.

“I think it’s only fair that I know your story, since you know mine so well.”

He smiled at you, but looked away for a few seconds. Contemplating if he should tell you or not. When you saw him shy away, you suddenly felt as if you were digging into something he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You said, and placed your hand on top of his. Your fun voice was toned down to your regular speech again.

“No, I’ll share it. No worries.”

He said and looked back to you. You nodded and turned completely towards him. Crossing your legs and resting your arm on the backrest of the sofa, ready to hear his story.

“My first time was around one and a half year ago, in your office, with the girl of my dreams.”

He said dead serious. You snickered at him, thinking he was joking. But he didn’t laugh.

“You can’t be serious.”

You stated, he nodded proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be, like I said you’re my dream girl. Why would I waste my time on others when the only one I want is you?”

He asked rhetorically. You crossed your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’ve never had sex? Ever?”

You asked in shock. His image did not fit the virgin title whatsoever.

“Once. With you.”

You smiled, but shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. You probably have girls throw themselves at you.”

His hand found your knee again. This time it was placed a little further up.

“The only one I want is you. I waited for you because I knew you would be worth it. Because I love you.”

He said in a low tone, slightly stroking the inside of your thigh. The two of you were close, so close that you were aware of the proximity. The tension in the air got thicker and thicker from the power of his last words. His face started moving slowly towards you, and you gave in. Meeting his lips. The kiss started slow, but he was quick to rush it. Grabbing your neck to deepen the kiss. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of what you were doing, and pulled away.

“We can’t do this.”

You simply said. Focusing on your hands on your lap. His hand went to push a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Why?”

He didn’t sound angry or impatient. He sounded like he cared. It was so much different from the first time the two of you shared a moment like that. He had really changed, and that was the problem.

“I’m not your patient anymore, y/n. I don’t want anything from you.”

You looked up at him again, and he caressed your face in a loving matter.

“Except for you of course.”

His face got closer again, but this time you didn’t kiss him. You abruptly got up from the sofa, and opted for looking down at him instead. You took a deep breath.

“You’re not doing anything wrong by having sex with me. Again, I’m not your patient.”

He said a little bit louder, trying to calm you down.

“I can’t have sex with you because I’ll fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You had been in denial this entire time, but you knew yourself. This would not end well. You couldn’t bare to fall in love with someone that would ruin your image and reputation. You just couldn’t. He looked at you like you were some kind of god. Like all his wishes were finally answered.

“Why is that a bad thing?”

He asked, you shook your head.

“I can’t let that happen, Jungkook. It’s going to ruin my career.”

You sat back down, leaning your elbows on your thighs and your head in your hands.

“I have done nothing but help your career. Why can’t you just trust me?”

He put his hand on your back, stroking you lightly. You looked at him again.

“Please, trust me y/n.”

Fuck it, you thought, before you caught him off guard with your forceful kiss. He was quick to get the memo, kissing you back with the same hastiness and lust. You found your way onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Once you were straddling him, you felt his already hard cock grinding against you. He was desperate for you. A muffled groan escaped his lips when your hand went down to remove his belt.

“Wait.”

He said as he pulled away from you. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were wet and plump.

“Let me taste you.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. His whole aura was so different from the needy rough man you remembered from the last time.

“Please.”

You got off his lap, taking your top off slowly. Watching him as his face turned in awe of the sight of your tits. His eyes were only on you as you shimmied out of your skirt, letting it pool on the floor. You laid down on the sofa, spreading your legs for him. He quickly removed his shirt, before getting on his stomach. His hand ran slowly down your abdomen, before he reached your slit. He split your lips with the same hand, before he dove right into you. You could tell he was inexperienced, but the rapid use of tongue on your clit sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. You let out extra pound moans whenever he would hit a good spot, and luckily he was a quick learner.

Once he had the hang of it, his hand moved down to your vagina, pushing two fingers in. Your back arched at the speed of the overstimulation. Feeling your orgasm approach quicker than usual. You grabbed his hair, pushing him deeper into you, preparing for your release.

“Don’t stop, Jungkook! I’m close.”

He moaned by your words, the vibrations making you tip over the edge. Your legs closed in on him, locking him in place. As you rode out your high. Once you had calmed down, you let go of his hair. And his face popped up from between your legs. He climbed on top of you, kissing you passionately. You tasted yourself on his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

He said in between kisses and moans.

“I almost came just from eating you out.”

He started fiddling with his belt, but you stopped him. Placing a hand on his chest carefully.

“Let me.”

You simply said, before he moved off you. He sat down again, and you crawled onto the floor. Seating yourself between his legs. You looked up at him as your hands slowly traveled up his thighs. He was even more flushed now, his hair sticking to his forehead. You could tell he was impatient. Flicking his eyes between your hands and your eyes.

“Please, y/n.”

He uttered with a heavy breath. You smirked up at him, finally reaching his belt. You took your time with it as well. Once it was open, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. Letting his cock spring free. You got on top of him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. He jerked up the second he felt your pussy on him. His thick cock stretched your walls out, and a moan escaped both your lips.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you this time.”

You said in a low voice, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands went straight to your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze. You kissed him gently before you started riding him. His head fell back in pleasure once you started your movements. Bouncing up and down his cock. His hands dug deeper into your skin. He filled you to the brim, and every bounce felt amazing.

“Fuck! I’m not- gonna last long.”

He moaned and looked back at you. You then leaned your hands backwards onto his thighs. Your head fell slightly back as you moaned at the new angle.

“Y/n, slow down!”

He moaned as his hands moved to your thighs. Trying halfheartedly to stop you. But you didn’t stop. And suddenly you felt him coming inside you. His hips lifted you up, as he released himself. And when you felt like he was finished you stopped. You rapped your hands around his shoulders as you fell onto his chest. The room got quiet, the only sound being your heavy breathing.

You weren’t able to think about the consequences of your actions at that point. You only felt satisfaction and lust. And maybe even love…

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 2

Elijah Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Looking for information on Klaus, you find your brother in the library and run into another handsome stranger.

Warnings: Sexual Tension, Dark Themes, Dante's Inferno, The Phantom of the Opera, Literary References, Delicate Touches

Word Count: 2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

You spent the next few days staring at the number written on your palm, the name ‘Klaus’ scribbled beneath it as the ink slowly began to fade with each wash. Putting the number into your phone for safe keeping, you continually fought the urge to call him and take him up on his tantalizingly generous offer. Just to be safe, though, you asked your brother to look up any information he could find on this playboy billionaire philanthropist, but he wasn’t answering his phone, which wasn’t like him. This either meant that he was buried in casework, that he was purposefully ignoring you, or something way worse.

You decide to go to the library and check his most likely location.

“Shit, sorry.” Austin looks at his phone to see your three missed calls and four text messages after uncovering it from his scattered papers on the library’s study desk. “I should have told you I couldn’t make it to your art show the other day, but Allan’s really kicking my ass with this one.” Your brother hurriedly takes the cup of coffee that you brought him, the bags beneath his eyes growing darker by the minute. “I really do plan on going to see it, I promise I will as soon as this case is over.”

Law school had really put your brother through the ringer, draining him of the light that used to shine bright within him. He’d said that once school was over, things would be better, but you’ll believe it when you see it.

“No, I get it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay when you didn’t respond. And you know what they say: ‘It can be pretty dangerous in the city after dark’.” You nudge him in the side, repeating one of his favorite phrases back to him in a mocking tone.

“Hey, I mean it when I say that!” He shouts in a defensive whisper, taking a sip of coffee with a grateful sigh. “If only I could show you half of the stuff I see at work without getting fired, I would…”

“I know, you’re just looking after me.” You ruffle his hair affectionately as you assess his messy work station. “You hungry or what?”

He rifles through his papers as if he’s lost something very near and dear to him, the crinkling sound seeming to drive him even more insane than anything. “Give me… forty-five minutes and we can get something to eat? Thai food?” He looks up at you, exasperated by the state of his workload.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “Forty-five minutes, and not a minute more!”

You turn away and leave him to his madness, silently exiting the most boring part of the library, walking through the science fiction and mystery sections in order to get to your favorite part; the horror section. You stroll through the alphabetized authors of terror, skimming past dozens of Stephen King novels before pulling out one of your favorites that had inspired a handful of adaptations over the years, all of them successfully paying it due homage. You’ve read it more times than you can even count, having collected a slew of copies of it at home, but none of them like this.

You admire the intricate cover of the hardback, smiling at the familiar sight of the white mask and red rose before tucking the tome lovingly into your chest. Knowing that the next forty-five minutes will surely fly by now, you turn down the aisle to find a quiet place to read, only to bump into a man you hadn’t seen there before.

He’s dressed in a three piece suit seemingly cut out of shadow and sin as an ancient aura surrounds him, almost as if he were as old as the city itself. His face, in turn, is just as timeless, reminding you of the old black and white Cary Grant movies you used to watch with your grandmother before she passed. Only he’s here now in living color, and it takes everything you have just to stop staring as a chill runs down your spine.

“Sorry,” you whisper shakily.

“Apologies are all mine,” his voice is deep and refined as he steps into your space, carefully placing the book back in its spot directly in front of you. “I wouldn’t want to create more work for the librarian.”

“This coming from someone reading Dante’s Inferno?” You finally say to break your awkward silence, noticing the famous title as he pushes it all the way in. “That’s a pretty heavy read for a Thursday night.”

He smiles with a low chuckle, eyes black as night glancing down at you before he deflects the attention away from himself. “And the Phantom of the Opera is such a light hearted story.”

“I find it comforting and romantic.” You defend the book in your arms with a grin.

“Is that so?” He tilts his head, taking the book from you without a hint of remorse before tracing the raised letters on the cover, almost as if to memorize the feel of them. “Two lovers obsessing over one incredibly talented beautiful woman? One driven mad with obsessive infatuation while the other truly has her best interest at heart?”

“So, you’ve read it?” You joke, noting the underlying bitterness in his tone despite his charming smile. This story’s personal to him, just like it is for you.

“Several times, yes.” He turns toward you, flicking through the pages as if he’s able to read them at superhuman speed. “Leroux really did know how to set the scene, didn’t he? A beautiful French city always seems to make it easier to fall in love.”

“Is that a fact?” You attempt to play it cool as he speaks so fondly of one of your favorite authors, drawing you in a little closer as he speaks.

“It’s a common literary device used in countless classics throughout the centuries, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He pauses, the dim lighting of the library making his dark eyes seem less imposing, almost sparkling as they look you over before scanning through the pages one more time. “Or maybe it’s the drama you prefer, the constant danger, the countless brushes with death that make you feel more alive than ever? Making the romance that much more palpable than if it were against any other monotonous backdrop?”

Jesus, is it written all over your face that you like a little bit of darkness with your romance? Is there a sign on your forehead that reads… What did the other man call you? Ah yes, ‘morbidly disturbed’? Was it so glaringly evident that you moved to this city to relish in the black magic you’ve heard so much about? Or maybe everyone else here is just as crazy as you are, no matter how elegant and put together they may seem.

“A little bit of both.” You decide to lean into the madness, slowly brushing your fingertips over his hand in order to catch him off guard just long enough to take your book back from him. “But what fun is romance without any stakes? It doesn’t make for a very good story, now does it?”

“I suppose not.” He smiles, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he stares at you, warming you to the idea of opening up a little bit more.

“Or maybe there’s something to say about someone who is so in love that they’re willing to fight for it, willing to kill for that other person because they can’t imagine a world without it, without them.”

He raises his eyebrows as he considers your words, visibly tensing up as he clears his throat and shifts the weight in his hips. “The Phantom doesn’t kill for Christine, he kills despite her. It’s who he is at his very core before he even gets involved with her. He’s a ghost, a phantom, a monster.”

“A monster capable of love and empathy after he’s finally shown that in return.” You counter, now unsure if you came away with the correct message from the book.

“Ah, a truly hopeless romantic.” He grins, licking his lips before speaking again. “I didn’t think they still existed.” His eyes rake over your entire frame, taking in every inch of you as he allows the following silence to remain between you, hovering around you both in a heavy fog as the weight of it nearly takes your breath away.

“But enough about me,” you laugh nervously, changing the subject as you feel your cheeks begin to redden beneath his gaze. “What draws a man like you to The Divine Comedy? Are you the religious type, or are you just trying to figure out which circle of hell you’re doomed to spend eternity in?”

“Oh I already know that answer too well, I’m afraid.” He lets out a long sigh before leaning against the bookshelf. “But Dante’s work can be studied from a more worldly perspective on how the justice system deems their punishments worthy of someone’s crimes.”

“So you’re a lawyer like my brother. That explains the suit.”

He smirks again with a shake of his head, clearly amused by your failed attempt to figure him out.

“Well, a professor certainly wouldn’t get paid enough to wear a jacket or watch as nice as yours, so I think that Dante would place you in the… fourth circle, if memory serves me correctly.”

“A hoarder of wealth? Is that what you think of me?” He laughs, stepping in just close enough so that his smoky scent of cedarwood swims around the both of you, pairing perfectly with the musk of the leather bound books beside you. “And what other assumptions have you already made based on my appearance, young lady?”

Young lady?! Uh oh. Your eyes widen, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as his term of endearment triggers your brain to start trickling oxytocin into your bloodstream.

His answer, however, gives you pause, forcing your eyes to narrow as you take in everything about him. He’s not a lawyer or a professor, but he certainly carries himself like someone of equal or higher importance, like an executive of some major company that you know nothing about. He’s a mystery cloaked in a seductively elegant darkness, and you can’t help but want to get wrapped up in it.

“I ummm…” you trail off, fearing that the dim lighting is doing little to hide the deepening flush of your cheeks right about now. This man is way out of your league, and it’s only a matter of time before he realizes that you’re in uncharted territory.

“Well, as long as we’re going off of first impressions, I’d say you would fall into the first circle with the Greek philosophers… if you qualify at all.” Those onyx eyes seem fixated on you still, dropping down to your neck and chest before glancing back up at your face, spreading that blush up into your ears.

“The virtuous unbaptized?” You try not to laugh, wondering how it was possible that the man yesterday had thought you to be such a dark and tortured soul, while this one paints you as some sort of angel. They were both wrong in their own way, a single thread of truth holding each of their ideals together. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid that the second circle is where my most devious nature starts and stops,” you confess, feeling your heart race as he closes the gap between you.

“The sins of the flesh.” He smirks, clenching his jaw before delicately touching the spine of your book. “Unsurprising. I assume that a beautiful woman such as yourself is provided ample opportunities to get you into trouble there.”

“You assume correctly.” You let your mind wander about what he looks like underneath all those expensive clothes as he leans in further, the top of your book now pressing against his tie as his fingertips graze the back of your knuckles, forcing the hair on the back of your hand to stand on end.

“Alright, I’m done!” Your brother interrupts your conversation as he walks down the aisle, his messy work bag barely hanging off his shoulder when he spots your new friend. “Who the hell is this?”

The man gives you a somber look before clasping both of his hands over yours, finally looking up to address your brother. “Forgive me, it seems that I’ve lost my manners, I’m Elijah.”

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 6

Conflict arises within the Al Ghul household.

18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. All characters are consenting adults. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with DC Comics.

Sincerely appreciate you guys for leaving comments and messages about my writing! Your interactions definitely push me to complete my work. Thank you for your patience.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: LOA!medieval!Damian Wayne x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,780

Warnings: misogyny?, smut, p in v penetration, oral sex

The Wayne Manor, in all its glory, is quite ordinary. 

Yes, it is perhaps the most magnificent building in all of Gotham – but if you look closely enough, there are little quirks that can only be seen in homes that have been lived in. 

Little chips on the doorframe showed its perpetual use. The floorboards creaked due to constant footsteps. The stained windows were discolored to divulge their age.

The manor gave off a completely different aura when compared to the Al Ghul Castle. The castle was built primarily for defense purposes and was not meant to be lived in. Its bloody history was obvious with its moat, drawbridges, and arrow slits.

Maybe that’s why you instantly felt more at ease at the manor. This was a home. It had no nefarious purpose. Even if the castle was purged of its malignant occupants (namely Talia), it could not erase its bloody history. 

With that being said, you could not say that you were completely comfortable at the manor. 

“How can I make you feel more at home?” Alfred inquires.

You’re not entirely sure how to answer his question. Maybe he could send word for your family to come to the manor instead of staying at the castle. 

You push the idea to the back of your mind almost immediately after thinking it. Your family hasn’t really been acting like your kin since you’ve arrived in the capital. They’re simply too busy schmoozing to notice your plight. After all, you are their ticket to the upper echelon. Damian had you leave the castle so hurriedly that you did not even have the chance to seek them out to say farewell. You doubt they’d care about your absence anyways.

“Where’s Damian?” 

“He’s still speaking with his father. I can have him come to your room as soon as he finishes his discussion.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

Alfred bows before exiting the room. “Your highness.”

You let out a melancholic sigh while plopping on your bed. The absolute silence that surrounds you deafens your ears. The peacefulness reminds you that this is the first time in a long time that you had to yourself. 

Your ladies-in-waiting are out familiarizing themselves with the manor. Rachel returned to her own home, promising to follow you to manor after she packed her own belongings. Alice, your personal servant, is acquainting herself with the servants’ quarters. 

Talia is not breathing down your neck. Your mother is no longer nit-picking at your appearance. Your father is not here to remind you of your dimwittedness. Your older brother is not hounding you to convince your in-laws to give him a council seat. 

It's just you. After so much time surrounded by others, wishing for some alone time, you’re suddenly dumbfounded. How were you able to entertain yourself before him – before Damian?

The embroidery hoop sits longingly in your open chest. Your needlework was in sore need of improvement you realized after moving to Gotham. After all, the noblewoman here had no household chores to take up their time, thereby leaving them experts at embroidery. 

You sit down on a sturdy wooden chair. It’s easy for you to distract yourself in the work that you’re doing. All that there is to distract you are the crackling of the candles and the occasional prick of the needle. 

You nearly fall out of the chair in terror when the door opens suddenly. Your ladies-in-waiting come barging in, talking amongst themselves merrily until they notice you. Their faces sour. 

“C’mere, your highness,” Matilda sneers. “Time for bed.”

A sigh escapes your lips before you can control it. Surely, you cannot be treated this way! After all, you’re a princess now!

Alas, you scurry to Matilda and turn your back towards her. Of course, you can wish for a spine all you’d like, but you’d never stand up to her. Or to Honora. Or Joan. Or Talia. You’re…you. A princess, but you were born among the lowest of aristocrats. Just a generation prior, your family were peasants! Matilda, Joan, and Honora all came from distinguished dynasties that far surpassed your own. 

“Ouch!” You tried with all your might to keep quiet while Matilda yanks you about, but when her nails scratch against your back, you can’t help but let out a screech.

“Oh, hush now!”

“You’re – hurting me.”

Matilda remains quiet and you step out of your dress after it pools at your feet. The fireplace keeps the room warm, but the hostility in the air increases the temperature. She tugs the nightgown over your head rudely. 

“I suppose I’ll stay the night with the princess.” Honora points to the feather mattress near the bed. 

Matilda and Joan nod their heads and curtsy towards you.

“Now, is there anything else you’d like for us to do before we retire for the night, your highness?” Joan’s voice is sickly sweet, but at this point, you know her words are laced with venom.

“No, thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice night.”

They snicker in each other’s ears and walk towards the door, while Honora looks longingly at them. Joan opens the bedroom door and gasps at the sight. 

“Your highness!”

Damian leisurely strides into the room with his hands behind his back like a soldier. The occupants of the room immediately bow in respect, including you. 

So much time had passed from when you told Alfred to call for Damian, that you didn’t think he’d actually come to see you. But here he was! In your room. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him. You didn’t remember why you asked Alfred to send Damian to you in the first place.

He clears his throat and looks around the room. His gaze lands on your discarded embroidery hoop atop your dresser. He picks it up to examine the half-finished red carnation on the fabric. Your entire body heats up in embarrassment. In your lonely haze, you barely recalled poking the red and green thread through the linen fabric. It meant nothing. Damian catches your gaze, and you hope to communicate silently that it meant nothing to you. Boredom took over and flowers were a common item to embroider. It meant nothing. You weren’t thinking about him then, and you certainly didn’t care that he was standing in front of you now. 

“You lot are dismissed for now.”

The ladies scamper out of the room immediately as Damian’s command leaves his lips. No back talk. No snide comment. If only they respected you half as much as they respected him, your day-to-day life would become so much smoother.

“Alfred mentioned that you called upon me.”

Your eye twitches. “Only to say goodnight.” You stare at him until it becomes uncomfortable. “So, goodnight.”

You turn around to get under the warmth of your covers. You pull the coverlet and bedsheet out as calmly as you can, even though a combination of anger and embarrassment courses through you. 

You want to lie back down fully, but Damian remains standing in place. 

“Can you please call my lady-in-waiting in here?”

“No.”

“No?” you scoff. “Why not?”

“We’re having a conversation, that’s why.”

“No, we’re not,” you huff. “I have had quite a tumultuous day. If you’ll excuse me, I will retire for the night.”

“You are angry with me.”

You scowl, but say nothing in return. You are angry. In fact, you are irate. Your marriage has just begun, and you already want to escape. 

“I’ve spoken with my father,” Damian interrupts the silence. “We will be staying here, at Wayne Manor. The castle is not the place for us.”

He exhales loudly when you do not respond. You are looking down at your coverlet, but can sense his movements closing in on you. He tediously sits on the farthest possible corner of the bed.

You shake your head in disbelief and face him with a glare on your face. “I do not bite, your highness, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

His smile momentarily catches you off-guard, but his chuckles reignite your anger. “You look like you will,” he responds once he notices your fury. His attempt at easing the tension does not work.

“I truly apologize for what my mother said to you. It was not…appropriate to say the least. Here at the manor, I can assure you that no one will question our marital bed like she did.”

“Tell that to my ladies-in-waiting. You do know that they are your mother’s spies, right? They’ll report everything to her.”

He shrugs. “I have been known to keep a loyal household.” He winks at you. “I have my ways.”

You simply can’t stand it. He’s being so…friendly. It irks you.

“Thank you, your highness. T’is late. I will not keep you up.” 

Your attempt to dismiss Damian is ignored. He tuts and closes the distance between you two. His new position is right at your side. His thigh touches your own, with just sheets of fabric separating the two of you.

“You’re angry with me,” he repeats.

“What’s it to you?” You do your best to keep your voice steady. “It’s not like you care.”

“Of course, I do. Of course, I care.”

A humorless laugh escapes your throat. “I’m not stupid. I have not grown up with your fancy tutors or privileged background, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were stu –”

“You don’t have to say it for me to know that you and everyone else think it!” you nearly shout. “Your highness –”

“We’ve been over this.” He rubs his forehead. “You are my wife. Refer to me as husband or Damian –”

“I am not your wife!” It’s unintentional, but some of your spit lands on his face. You fight to get the covers off of you, jumping out of bed. You can only stomp a few steps away from Damian before his arm grabs your bicep.

You’re pulled back towards him and he swivels you around to face him once again.

“I am not your wife!” you repeat.

“What are you going on about, woman?” His own anger is evident due to the bulging vein on his neck. “Have you hit your head and lost your memory already?”

You speak through gritted teeth. “Your highness, I am not sure why you have roped me into your lies, but clearly there is another motive behind our so-called marriage.” You rip yourself from his hands, and point at him menacingly. “I don’t think I care to know why you have lied to me, but just know I’m onto you. You cannot deceive me. I know that we are in a sham marriage.”

Damian’s eyes nearly transform to coal black, the green is no longer visible. You slowly drop your accusatory finger, mentally kicking yourself for your tantrum. His disposition is quite fearsome, you realize. You were admittedly terrified of Prince Damian, who comes from a long line of terrifying and tyrannical ancestors. 

“Careful there, woman,” he taunts. “You are speaking to your prince.”

“I thought you were just my husband,” you sneer before you realize what you said. You clamp your mouth shut.

His eyes narrow dangerously. “Same difference. Do you need reminding?”

Well, now you’ve done it. You were going to be beheaded come sunrise, weren’t you? Why couldn’t you have just shut up? Why did you have to believe the lies he said in the garden? Who cares, he’s a man – they all lie. What difference does it make that your man joins in the age-old tradition of lying?

Damian waits expectantly for some sort of response from you, while your mind races. 

“No…husband.”

Damian smiles, but you can tell it’s the coldblooded kind. He takes one step, then another, and then one more until he’s toe-to-toe with you. 

You look up meekly at your prince. He towers over you and it dawns on you just how precarious your situation is. It has been just a day since you’ve married. The marriage could easily be annulled, especially at Damian’s behest. You are replaceable. There are countless others you would kill to be the heir’s wife.

And who could replace Damian? Quite literally, no one. Your family would forever be disgraced. No one would want to interact with the family of the heir’s former wife. It would be an embarrassment. Not to mention, you would forever be the laughingstock of the kingdom. The day-old princess. 

He cups your face, and his thumbs brush your hot cheeks. His other fingers grip the back of your neck, nearly painfully so. “Well, I think you do.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he plants his lips on your forehead. They travel to your nose before one hand shifts the collar of your nightgown.

“Admittedly, t’is my fault.” He suckles the tender skin at the base of your neck. “I have not truly turned you into a wife yet.” The implications of his words make you shiver, along with the wet kisses he leaves up and down your neck. His actions leave you in shock. This was not the way you expected to be…punished? Reprimanded? You’re not sure what exactly Damian is planning.

He kisses the pulsing point in your neck and the sensitivity nearly makes your moan. You bite your lip in retaliation, but of course, he notices it. 

You want to retort, but his thumb rubs against your nipple. You breathe out heavily as he continues his ministrations, your fiery attitude withers away as your nipple hardens under his touch. 

His hands slowly make their way to your hips and he grabs them firmly to guide you in the direction of the bed. 

You yelp when he pushes you onto the bed roughly, nearly landing completely on your back, but you catch yourself by your arms. You watch in utter curiosity as Damian rolls your nightgown over your knees, exposing you the warm chill of the room. He bites his lip lewdly and sinks to his knees.

You yelp again when he pulls you closer to the edge by the ankles. 

“You can watch if you want.” He gives you wet kisses from your ankle till your inner thigh. When he reaches your thigh, you attempt to close your legs around his head. It’s simply too sensitive. 

He pushes your knees apart and begins the cycle again on the other leg. This time, when he reaches your inner thigh, he takes hold of your legs and spreads them as far apart as he can. 

You squirm and squirm as he continues kissing your inner thighs.

“Damian,” you whimper.

“The lioness suddenly cannot seem to roar, only mewl,” he teases.

You can feel his hot breath on your innermost parts. The intimacy of the situation makes you grip the bed, but once he latches onto you, your hands cramp in the air.

“Oh! Ooh! Oh.” You moan loudly while he deliciously eats you out. His tongue sloppily latches onto your sensitive nub, but he occasionally leaves you long, languid licks on the entire region.

His hand snakes up your body, shirking your nightgown up until it’s over your shirt. He tweaks your nipples, and you can feel your abdomen tightening in response. 

You can feel the cooling wetness when Damian finally releases his hold on your clitoris. You want to mourn the absence of his tongue, but the mourning period ends as quickly as it began when he starts to rub his thumb in firm, circular motions.

There are so many sensations happening simultaneously. His thumb on your clit. His rough shirt agitating your nipples. Wet kisses on your neck. His fingers occasionally swiping the wetness leaking from your hole and spreading it around. You couldn’t stop the tide even if you wanted to.

The only thing to hold onto is his biceps. It starts in small waves. A strange feeling arises in you, but you don’t want it to stop. It roils in faster and faster peaks. You bite your lip in anticipation. When it finally arrives, a sound escapes your throat that has never come out before. Your muscles contract as you reach your peak. 

Damian’s lips leave your neck to latch onto your mouth. You moan into his mouth as the feeling rides itself out. It’s so overwhelming that all modesty flies out the window. You don’t care how loud you are. You don’t care how you must look. All that surrounds you is the pleasure that Damian extracted from you. 

The kiss you share is unlike the one from the day before at your wedding. Your wedding kiss was short and sour. This one is long and sensual. 

You don’t want the kiss to end, but Damian takes the initiative to pull back. He maintains eye contact with you while he removes his tunic and pants. You obscenely take in the sight of his defined abs and strong muscles, but you stop once your eyes meet his hardened member.

You jump slightly when he suddenly spits on it. His hand moves up and down to spread his saliva around. The sight is so lewd that you turn your head to avoid it.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, beloved.”

His words force you to look once more at him. His pushes your shoulders down to where you lay flat on the bed. You crane your neck to at least look at what he’s doing. He holds your neck up with his hand to give you a better view once he realizes what you’re trying to do. 

He pokes at your entrance. “Beloved, breathe for me.”

You have no choice but to follow the instructions of the man that just had his face in between your thighs moments ago. You inhale, then exhale, and repeat the process.

The pain halts your breath. You hiss as the head of his penis is thrust into you. He shallowly inserts the tip in and out, and leans down to pepper your face with light kisses. Slowly but surely, your hiss turns into a whimper. In response, he thrusts deeper and deeper. He whispers tenderly into your ear.

“You feel amazing, my love.”

“This is what I should have done last night.”

“I am all yours.”

You don’t even realize you’ve shed a tear until he swipes it away. The gentleness of the moment wipes away the last month from your memory. All that exists is here and now.

It hurts, but there’s an equal amount of pleasure licking behind the pain. Damian’s ever-increasing groans only add to your own desire. He impales you with every thrust, but he does so as slowly as possible. You can tell he could be rougher if he wanted, as evident by his muscular figure. 

He leans his forehead onto your own, and closes his eyes. You keep yours open to watch him pant. There’s a glow on his skin that highlights every handsome feature about him. 

His breathing becomes erratic and so do his thrusts. His grunts are nearly animalistic until finally he groans loudly in delight. You can feel a gush of wetness around your entrance as he lazily thrusts himself in and out of you. He stills himself inside of you at last before practically crushing you under his weight.

You can hardly breathe under the pressure and feebly push upwards against his chest with your hands that are trapped under him. He pulls out of you completely and rolls over to your side, still panting heavily. 

He shifts you onto your side to face him and pecks your entire face with light kisses. You giggle at his show of affection, wishing that he would never stop. 

But he does. Everything good must come to an end. With one final peck on your lips, he rubs his hands up and down your back before getting up from the bed. The warmth of his body escapes you and you find yourself quite cold suddenly. The fireplace still burns brightly, but Damian’s touch provided a fiery heat that could not be replicated through any other means. 

Once he’s finally dressed, he leans down to give you a passionate kiss. You return the affection to the best of your naïve ability. 

“Our marriage is now officially sealed. Do you feel like our union is a sham still?”

You squirm in embarrassment. You recall the argument that preceded your intimate counter, but shame overcomes you at the way you behaved. 

You nod your head in response. “I apologize, Damian. This past month has just been a whirlwind for me.”

He gazes at you while tying his pants tight. “I understand.” He reaches down and kisses your knuckles, like he did when you first arrived in Gotham. “Goodnight, beloved.”

He strides towards the exit. “Damian, will we spend any time together tomorrow? I’d love a tour of the manor with you as my guide.”

“I don’t think that is possible. I’ll be very busy.” He attempts to walk away, but is stopped by your questioning again.  

“Can we at least have dinner together?” He doesn’t turn to face you entirely, but he does tilt his head in your direction. 

“Would that make you happy?” he finally says.

“Yes,” you immediately answer. You wanted what just happened to continue to happen. Not necessarily the sex, although that was a definitive plus, but the closeness. 

You felt so much closer to Damian within just a night of emotional intimacy that your negative memories of him from the past month shift towards the back of your head. Every kiss he gave you tonight replaced every snide comment made in your direction, the loneliness you felt, and the confusion regarding your relationship status.

“Then, we shall have dinner.” With that, he leaves the room, leaving you bare on the bed. 

His absence makes the pain and soreness in your abdomen and genitals evident. You clutch your belly in an attempt to soothe the cramps away.

Your door bursts open. You scramble to cover yourself with something, with anything, but it’s too late.

Honora glares at you as she makes her way towards the bed. The best you can do in your fumbled state is cover yourself with your arms and make yourself as small as possible. 

She looks you over, and then at the red and transparent stains on the coverlet. 

“Get off the bed,” she snaps. She exits the room and returns a few moments later with two servant girls.

“Hurry up,” she barks at the servants as they scurry to change to the sheets. “I’d like to get some sleep before the sun rises.”

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄClose Quartersꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere College Au

❦When delinquents have a little crush on Kazutora’s roommate❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Japanese Language is Red

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Close Quarters

“Damnit!”

Laughter filled the room as the loud clicks of thumbs hitting the buttons sporadically on the controllers echo amongst the shots ringing on the television. A hand drops the controller before the culprit stands from the floor.

“Alright, man. I’m done.”

“Aw, don’t be such a sore loser, Y/n.” The roommate with the tiger tattoo taunts, chuckling as he sets his own controller down.

“Whatever, Kazu. I know you’re cheating, anyway.” He responds, smiling as he walks behind the counter to grab a water bottle.

“Someone’s bitter.” He responds as he grabs the bong sitting beside him, lighting the remaining flower in the bowl. Y/n walks to the couch and sits with his ankle resting on his leg.

“Shut up. Anyway, can I borrow your laptop? I left mine at Mikey’s dorm.” Y/n explains, sipping his water before closing it and setting it on the coffee table. After finishing the bowl, he hands it to Y/n as he gets up from his seat.

“Yeah, I’m going to the Haitani’s so I’ll tell Mikey to bring it there.” He says as he walks to his bedroom.

Y/n sets the bong on the table and swipes through social media until Kazutora brings him the silver device. His earrings jingle as he walks to the front door, opening it and giving a small wave before he shuts the door behind him.

Opening his laptop, Y/n goes to the search engine and types their university’s assignment website. A few hours pass and he completes two discussion boards and a five page paper. Out of boredom he roams his roommate’s laptop until he finds his messages app. He finds quite a few chats though two stuck out to him. One is the chat they’re all in considering Kazutora introduced them all, and the most recent one is the group chat not including him.

Of course, they’re closer so it would make sense that they have their own group chat, though Y/n’s anxiety caused him to come up with scenarios where they might talk crap about him so he decides to open the chat excluding him. He scrolls just enough to see the most recent messages.

mikey: wat a pain

we shud do somthin

me: yeh? like wat hes straight

rin: u dk that

ran: hes dl theres no way hes not

sanzu: his gf

rin: guys do tht all the tjme

me: theh call evry njgbt which is annoying af

sanzu: could be bi

Y/n eyes the chat in confusion as to who they could be talking about. He scrolls up to see more of the conversation for context until his phone buzzes repeatedly. Viewing the caller id, he brings it to his ear after pressing the answer button.

“Hey babe.” Y/n says, backing out of the app and closing the laptop.

“Hey, how’s your day?” Her sweet voice says from the other end.

While they converse, his phone buzzes once more, causing him to pull it down and set it to the speaker.

Kazu: smoke n drink? come over

Considering he’s finished with his assignments, he shrugs as he takes his phone with him to grab his stuff. Considering the dorm is near, he decides to walk as he talks to his girlfriend. When he makes it to their door, they tell each other ‘bye,’ before ending the line.

When he walks in, he shuts the door and walks past the empty living room to Ran’s bedroom. Walking in, the guys are spread out, Sanzu working on his laptop with his back leaning on the headboard. The oldest Haitani laying beside him as he smokes a joint, Mikey sits on a bean bag chair with a controller in hand as well as Rin who sits on the floor in front of the bed. Kazutora has his feet on the desk as he leans back in the chair.

He’s greeted as he’s handed a bottle filled with the alcoholic beverage by the short blonde. Sitting beside Rin, he watches the tv as their characters run across the screen shooting enemies. They all converse as normal ‘homies’ do, playing their game as they switch who gets a turn with the controllers, along with drinking and smoking.

“I’m sick of beer. Someone make a real drink.” Mikey, tired of the bitter taste, suggests.

“Don’t be a baby, drink it straight.” Rin taunts.

“Aren’t you an alcoholic?” Mikey gives him a bored look. The youngest Haitani laughs at his response.

“Maybe so.”

“Alright, ladies. We’re gonna fix the drinks. Come on, Sanzu.” Ran says as they both get up from the bed, heading to the kitchen.

“What are they making?” Y/n asks in curiosity.

“Something good. It’ll definitely fuck us up.” Kazutora smirks.

A few minutes pass as they continue playing their game with conversation. Finally, Ran and Sanzu walk in with cups filled with a reddish purple liquid, handing it to their friends as they sit back where they were. An hour passes and by the time everyone is done with their drinks, they’re all giddy as they become less sober unlike Y/n whose head is leaned back against the bed in a deep slumber.

“Wow, he’s really knocked out.” Rin says as he attempts to wake him up by shaking him.

Mikey crawls over to the sleeping figure, smacks his face a few times, to no avail.

“Damn.” Kazutora says. “What did you put in his drink?”

“Something good.” Sanzu says as Ran stands up to walk towards the limp body.

“I’ve got an idea.” He says, picking him up before walking over and placing him on the bed.

“He’s not gonna wake up and if he does, he probably won’t remember anything.”

“What are you getting at, Haitani?” Kazutora asks with his arms crossed.

The purple eyed man proceeds to remove Y/n’s shirt, slightly looking back as he side eyes Kazutora.

“What do you think, Hanemiya?” He smirks before undoing Y/n’s pants and tossing them to the side.

“Wait, so we’re gonn-!”

“I know what you’re thinking and it’s not like that. We all love him, right?” Sanzu says as he takes a sip of his own spiked drink. “Then what’s wrong with showing it however we want?”

“As far as I’m concerned, I can do whatever I want with what’s mine.” Ran smiles as he eyes the limp bulge in Y/n’s underwear. The rest of the friends hop up from their seats as they walk to the bed, hovering over as they caress his body.

“You’re still sick. Move.” Kazutora says as he positions himself to sit behind Y/n as the back of his head lays on his shoulder. He moves his hands to his hips as he squeezes.

“And you’re not?” Ran laughs.

He ignores him, slowly placing his lips on Y/n’s neck as he rubs his sides.

“Honestly, this seems like a special moment.” Rin says as he grabs his phone, pulling up the camera app and setting it to record.

“Hey, what the hell?” Kazutora questions. Ran puts his finger to his mouth.

“It’s alright. Memories, you know.” He pulls out his own phone as he moves back to get a better angle.

Mikey eyes Y/n for a moment before pulling his underwear down. He throws them to the side as he leans in, hazy eyes as he stares at the limp cock. Sanzu positions himself next to the other blonde as he spits in his hand, reaching over and wrapping his hand around the muscle.

Kazutora continues his kissing which turns into licks and the licks turn into sucking his neck, hands moving to his nipples as he rolls and pinches them. Y/n’s cock twitches as the blood rushes slowly.

“So beautiful.” He whispers against his skin as he looks down at his rising length. His own hard cock rubs against Y/n’s lower back, precum leaking through his briefs.

Sanzu lowers himself as his lips close around the head of Y/n’s penis. Sucking the precum from his urethra, he uses his tongue to swirl around the mushroom top. Y/n’s hip twitches as his head slightly moves, still in a slumber as they eye him cautiously. Sanzu continues until he fits the whole girth into his mouth, the head hitting his throat as his eyes close, moaning from the stretch.

Everyone can feel their own pants tightening at the view, especially with the way Y/n twitches from the touches. Kazutora unclips his own pants, moving to where he could pull them completely off. Rin gets closer, his phone’s camera facing his hand that moves up to play with Y/n’s nipple. Ran focuses his camera on Sanzu as he bobs his head.

Y/n’s leg moves as his cock completely hardens. He releases a small grunt as his hips twitch once more. When Sanzu releases, he looks at Mikey expectantly, who answers by wrapping his hand around the tense muscle and placing his lips around the head, easing down to fit it in the back of his throat, no gag reflex detected.

“Good?” The blue eyed man questions.

“Mhm.” Mikey moans as he bobs his head.

Completely aroused by the display, Kazutora opens Ran’s nightstand drawer, finding the lube he sets it on the top. He pulls down his briefs and throws them to the side. Using the lube, he covers his dick with the liquid.

“Whatcha doin there, Kazu?” Ran taunts.

“Shut up. I’m only putting the tip in.”

“Yeah, sure.” Rin rolls his eyes.

Kazutora grips Y/n’s thighs as he pulls the legs back, leaning his own body back to position the head of his cock comfortably at the sleeping man’s entrance. Sanzu and Mikey take it upon themselves to lick and suck his cock together.

Kazutora breathes out as his cock enters the tight hole slowly. The Haitani brothers watch as Y/n’s nose scrunches. His cock throbs as his head falls back.

“Fuck.” He whispers to himself, trying all his might to not fully shove it in.

“Come on, Kazu. Take what’s yours.” Ran says with his signature smile, teeth showing as his arousal takes over.

“Yeah, you might as well. You’re already in there.” Rin continued.

“Fuck I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers against Y/n’s ear before shoving himself deep inside of Y/n’s ass. One of his hands reaches to hold his neck as the other arm wraps around his waist. He grinds his cock in and out before he accelerates his pace, throwing his head back once more and releasing a moan.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow as his eyes peak open, a throbbing pain going up his back as his body rocks up and down. He breaks out in a cold sweat as he feels moisture on his cock, confusion and exhaustion being the only feelings he can decipher at the moment.

Opening his eyes fully, he makes eye contact with two pairs of familiar eyes looking up at him. He shifts his gaze to the other two people who have their cameras facing him. His eyes tear up at the agony coming from his ass, the pain conflicting with the pleasure of his cock adding to the confusion. He turns his attention to the hot body holding him from behind.

Wait, I’m naked?

When reality hits, his eyes widen as he struggles against the hold.

“Wh-what the fuck is going on?!” He exclaims. He grunts as his hips buck when Mikey and Sanzu continue their assault without a care in the world.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, baby. It’s okay, just relax and it’ll feel really good.” Kazutora whispers against his ear, sweat dripping down his head as his hips accelerate, angling his cock to hit his roommate’s. prostate.

“Ah! K-Kazutora, wh-what the fuck?!” He could barely think about anything else but the intense sensations his body is being met with. His arms were bound by Kazutora’s wrapped arms so he couldn’t use them to get out of their grips.

“Relax.” His hand tightens around his neck as well as the arm around his waist before Kazutora plunges his cock inside of him rapidly, hitting his spot each time.

Y/n’s mouth is held open as he breathes heavily, the pain turning into a pleasurable fullness that he couldn’t believe.

I can’t believe they would do this to me. We’re supposed to be friends.

“I want to try something.” Mikey states as Sanzu moves back to give him room. Kazutora slows down to small thrusts as he holds back for Mikey to get adjusted, already having an idea of what he’s about to do.

“N-no! Get away from me! All of you!” Y/n exclaims, crocodile tears streaming down his face.

“Stop being so dramatic, Y/n” Rin scoffs.

“Y-you’re all fucking sick! Pieces of sh-!”

Sanzu shoves Kazutora’s balled up underwear in between his lips, forcing him to have muffled screams.

“If you spit it out, I’ll kill your girlfriend. Watch your mouth.” He threatens as he caresses his cheek with his thumb. Y/n could only stare in horror when he heard the promise, knowing how they’re all in a gang and have killed people before. He feels as though this could be his karma for turning a blind eye, not wanting to be involved but couldn’t help but accidentally hear conversations he wasn’t supposed to hear, though that doesn’t come easy when his roommate is so involved.

While all of that played out, Mikey undressed himself before climbing on top of Y/n. He grabs the lube and covers Y/n’s cock with it.

“Please, no!” He muffled, though he was ignored. Mikey places the head to his own ass before he drops himself on top, cock disappearing into him as he bottoms out with a grunt. He picks himself up before slamming down again, moaning as the head hits his prostate. He accelerates along with Kazutora who also matches his pace. Mikey’s head leans on Y/n’s shoulder as he rides him, grinding his ass while his own cock rubs against Y/n’s stomach.

“S’ fucking good. You feel so good inside of me.” Mikey moans against his neck, sucking his skin as Kazutora did the same on the other side. Y/n could only grunt and whimper occasionally as he’s stretched out from his ass and squeezed tightly from his front.

Y/n’s phone buzzes from the floor, Sanzu picking it up and smirking when he sees the caller id. He pressed the answer button. When her face appears on the screen, her eyebrow raises in confusion when she sees Sanzu.

“Oh shit.” Rin’s smirk grew wide as he eyes Sanzu in surprise. Ran could only laugh as the moans from Mikey and Kazutora could be heard.

“Hey. Y/n is kind of busy, right now.” At the sound of his name, he turns his head to see Sanzu holding his phone.

Oh no!

“What’s that noise?” She asks in confusion.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Sanzu says before turning the camera to face her boyfriend, making sure Y/n would be able to see her facial expression. He spits the cloth out, forgetting the threat as he desperately speaks to her.

“M-Mai! I swear to god this isn’t what it looks like! Pl-please!” He cries. “I didn’t kn…!”

“See, he’s busy.” Sanzu turns the camera back to himself, eyeing her distraught face in content.

He chuckles and sets the phone down when she hangs up.

“Why?! Why did you do…?!” He’s cut off by Mikey placing his lips on his.

“Didn’t I say that I’d kill her if you spit that out? If you bite him I’ll do it slowly.”

Y/n shakes his head sporadically as he whimpers before his eyes roll in the back of his head and his head drops back, Kazutora thrusting harder inside of him, rubbing his walls as he hits his prostate each time.

“You’re doing so fucking good. I’m so close, baby.” He whispers as he kisses his ear.

Mikey continues grinding hard, hitting his own prostate as Y/n’s cock rubs against his walls. Both of Kazutora’s hands move to grip Y/n’s hips tightly as Mikey hugs around his neck, thrusting harder.

Finally, Kazutora releases deep inside him, thrusting up as he holds his cock there, Mikey following along as his ropes of cum shoot against Y/n’s stomach. Because of the pressure, Y/n’s body reacts as he convulses, orgasming hard inside of Mikey.

They all breathe heavily before Kazutora removes himself from Y/n as Mikey climbs off. The Haitani brothers hand their phones to Kazutora and Mikey as they tell them to keep recording.

They force his legs up and spread as Sanzu and Ran immediately lick up the cum on his cock. Rin pushes him up more to get a better angle of his ass before licking the rim.

Weak, Y/n tries to push them away by pushing their heads back. They don’t budge and only swatt his hands away. His limp cock springs back to life as the sensations take over once more.

Ran takes him into his mouth fully as Sanzu moves to his testicles. Rin plunges two fingers into the wet hole, specifically angling to meet that familiar spongy spot. Kazutora moves closer to his upper body.

“I hate all of you.” He hissed as his body twitched against their play. “S-so fucking much.”

“Love you too.” He responds before placing a kiss on his lips. Caressing his forehead as he angles the phone’s camera to his dick.

Ran bobs his head thoroughly as Sanzu licks and grips his balls. Rin continues using his fingers to plunge back and forth deep into his hole at a steady pace. His legs tremble as his body convulses once more, nearing his release.

Throwing his head back, his hips buck once more. Releasing a grunt he shoots his semen in the back of Ran’s throat as he swallows it all. Both men lick up the remaining slick as Rin pulls his fingers out. Kazutora and Mikey stop recording, sending the video to the group chat without Y/n.

“I think it’s time to pay her a visit.” Sanzu says as he wipes his mouth.

“No! You’re not gonna fucking touch her!” Y/n growls as he sits up.

“What are you going to do about it?” Rin challenges.

“He’s going to do nothing but take this dick.” Ran states as he picks him up and forces him into doggy style. He struggles against Ran, failing miserably as his ass is pointed in the air.

“We’ll take care of it.” Mikey states as he dressed himself.

“No! No, please! Don’t hurt her! Kazutora! Stop them, please!” His voice cracks as the tears stain the sheets. Kazutora crouches in front of his face.

“Calm down, Y/n. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll get over it.” He says before walking to the doorway with Mikey and Sanzu.

“Please!” He whines as he begins to break down. Rin crouches as he stares at him with a smile.

“If you relax, you’ll feel better, okay? There’s no way we’re letting you go so you might wanna get used to this now.” He wipes a tear away with his thumb.

“Also, we’re gonna try to fit both of us in so relax your muscles, pretty boy.”

[concretecultist]

Broken Vows

summary: while trying to keep your head above water, Nicholas does the unforgivable.

pairing: fem!reader x nicholas ruffilo

THIS IS PURE FICTION!! Do NOT proceed if these themes are not of your taste.

warnings: ANGST, descriptions of postpartum depression, Mean!Nicholas, negative self talk/image, insecurities, infidelity, mentions of trouble trying to conceive, alcohol consumption

word count: 4.1k

A/N: i told you guys angst is my specialty 🥴 please be sure to comment and reblog 🩷

divider by : @djarrex

~Berry 🫐

———

Nico was a gift to your lives. He was such a beautiful baby boy that you and Nicholas were beyond blessed to bring into this world.

With being together for 6 years, being married for 4 and trying for a baby for 2 of them, despite the difficulties, your baby boy is now here.

But while you can recognize how much you love your son, you just can’t seem to display it. When he cries, you panic and just watch him cry until Nicholas intervenes. There’s times where you can’t even hold him, not being able to accept the skin to skin contact.

In your mind, you were failing to be a good mother to him and it doesn’t help that Nicholas’ mind just seemed to be elsewhere. He doesn’t make eye contact, he doesn’t kiss you, he doesn’t hold you at night and he’s passive aggressive when it comes to your detachment regarding Nico.

At first he seemed to understand, until it was him waking up every time in the middle of the night to put him to sleep because you just stared at Nico in his crib, frozen, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to soothe him.

He was understanding at first until he had to buy formula because you wouldn’t pump, and when you did, it wasn’t enough to properly feed him. Your lack of good production stemming from the stress and not being able to take care of yourself, not eating, not hydrating, nothing.

“He needs his mom, Y/N,” Nicholas grabbed Nico from his crib, the upset infant instantly pacified and the blood curdling cries are finally quiet.

“I can’t bond with him, he doesn’t even know me as is mom!,”

“Because you’re not trying!,”

“I am,” you pull at your roots, speaking through gritted teeth, “I’m fighting for my fucking life here and you’re guilting me about it,”

Nicholas just sighed, he knows this isn’t easy. He had helped you get a therapist and he thought it’d at least help even a little bit. It’s been like this for a month.

“I’m not guilting you! But at the same time we have a son to raise, I know you’re trying, honey, but something has got to give. What are you going to do when we have to go on tour again?,”

“You said that wouldn’t be for a while!!,” you shriek, face wet as you panic, “Nicky, please, I’m not ready,”

You could see his jaw clench and you hate to see him so upset with you, so frustrated. Your mind and body were still healing and despite delivering Nico a month ago, your body just doesn’t feel like yours anymore, you’re confused and the idea that someone now needs you 24/7 was terrifying.

Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe there’s a reason it was so hard to conceive in the first place.

But alas, regardless of Nicholas’ frustration, he still helped get you to therapy, he helped you do some stretches to help get you grounded back into your body.

However, after a while the distance still grew. Once you were at a point where you could be alone with Nico, Nicholas was barely there.

He’d tell you he was leaving and wouldn’t come back until late.

It’s almost like he was punishing you.

Each night he’d come home, hop in the shower and climb in bed, turning his back to you.

Your marriage didn’t feel like a marriage anymore and you’re still waiting to feel that sense of family that so many people talked about.

There’s a night where Nicholas doesn’t come home at all. You’re messaging him, blowing up his phone with calls and voicemails, even going as far as calling the guys but even they’re not answering.

You were up all night crying along with Nico and the only reason he fell asleep is because he cried himself out. You sat in the same spot on the loveseat from sunset to sunrise, you haven’t slept a wink and when you hear his keys jingling, you become more aware of how you look.

Hair all over the place, Nico’s spit up all over your hoodie, dried tear streaks on your face and it just feeds the insecurities that you’ll never “snap back” like all the other moms on social media do.

“Where have you been?,” voice cracking

He doesn’t answer, he just walks past you as if you don’t exist.

“I asked you a question,”

“God, Y/N! Not right now,”

Your breath hitches as you take in his appearance, looking all partied out and hungover, hair up in a messy bun and his clothes all wrinkled.

“I stayed up all night waiting for you! I didn’t know where you were, you didn’t even answer, none of you did!,”

“I told them to turn their phones off,” he replied as if it was the simplest answer. As if he were answering ‘4… duh’ when asked what 2+2 equals.

The sound that escaped you sounded as if someone had their hands around your throat and you were fighting for your life.

“I needed you,”

“And I needed a break!,” the way he raised his voice had you rearing back against the couch cushion. He’s never raised his voice, “I have been taking care of Nico since the day he came home. I’ve been taking care of YOU, I’ve been bathing him, I’ve been bathing you, I’ve been feeding him and feeding you. I have a child and a wife, I’m not a single dad of two children!,”

All you can do is hold Nico close to your chest as Nicholas’ words soaked into your skin, making it hard for the air to reach your lungs, his words a colorless poison like carbon monoxide.

“Nicky…,” you whimper, “Don’t… don’t say that, I’m trying,”

“And I’m tired!!,” he’s still shouting and if he doesn’t stop, he’ll wake Nico and you can’t handle that right now, “I stayed out with the guys, we had a couple drinks and I crashed at Jolly’s and it was the first full nights rest I’ve gotten in a long time so no, I’m not going to apologize!,”

You just stared at him, scared of the fury that had taken over his once comforting eyes.

“I…,” you hiccup, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll be better,”

It finally clicks in Nicholas’ mind how he just reacted and his expression softened.

“Wait, honey. I don’t know why I just-,”

“It’s okay,” you smile through the tears, “I’m going to lay him down and take a shower,”

“I can help you,”

You slowly sit up to lay Nico down in his bassinet and you wrap your arms around yourself as a way to self soothe and make yourself seem smaller under his inquisitive gaze.

“N-no. I’ll be okay,” you try to walk past him but he reaches for your arm gently, slowly spinning you around but you avoid his eyes.

“I love you,” sighing in exhaustion, he says the three words you’ve been needing to hear for the longest. This hasn’t been easy for you either.

But there’s a twinge in his tone, almost as if he’s convincing himself.

You want to believe him, you want to relish the words that should have been coming out of his mouth unconditionally this entire time.

But there’s something deep within his eyes that reads he’s just saying it to placate you.

Not to mention, there’s a sweet smell coming off his clothes.

That of gourmand and ambroxan, like of a subdued jasmine soaked in a lactonic caramel.

It’s unfamiliar and it sure as hell doesn’t belong to you.

Despite getting better and working on your bond with Nico, Nicholas seemed to pull away more and more.

So for tonight, you cooked dinner and wore your favorite colored dress, a dress that he always complimented you in, it was his favorite of yours.

You wore a little make up to brighten up your eyes and make your skin seem hydrated and plump instead of dull and dry.

You had fed Nico and put him down for bed, just wanting some time alone with your husband. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard him enter your shared home, bouncing on the balls of your feet while you stood beside the candle lit dinner on the table.

Except when he entered the dining room, he seemed so unamused. His eyes scanned down your body and to the table with little to no emotion.

“What’s this?,” he questions, setting his jacket on the back of the table.

“Well I figured we hadn’t had a date night in ages, we could use some alone time”

“Y/N…,” he pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed with the whole set up, “I don’t really have the energy for this right now,”

“It’s just…,” your eyes blink in confusion at his words, trying to hide the sadness. He didn’t even say how pretty you looked, “It’s just dinner, Nicky. C’mon just sit,”

Reluctantly, he did so. It was his favorite dish and yet he looked at it as if it was the most unappetizing slop on his plate.

He doesn’t know that his little expressions and lack of energy are killing your spirit but you’re set on trying.

“It’s your favorite,” you take a small bite, watching as he just sits there with his arms on either side of his plate, fiddling with his thumbs. He’s just sitting as if he’s trying to process something.

“I even baked a cake today! It was a new recipe I got it from this Facebook group I’m in. I was thinking after dinner we could take a bubble bath together like we used to and share a piece! Just like old ti-,”

“I slept with someone else,” he blurts out.

Your lips twitch and your ears start ringing.

“Heh… what?,” your motions come to a halt and the smile is no longer on your face. The candle flames seemed to stop flickering and the world outside seemed to still as you zeroed in on him, “What did you say?,”

He leans forward on the table, moving the plate to the side to rest his head in his hands.

“I slept with-,”

“No, you raise your head and look at me,” you demanded. This has to be some sort of sick joke. Sometimes the guys can take their jokes a little too far. This has to be one of them, right?

He sighed heavily, hands dropping to the table with a light knock as his inked knuckles bump against the mahogany.

Those beautiful eyes that you found a home in, stare back at you and you feel so lost now. Like you’re in a place that seemed familiar but you’re experiencing amnesia.

You know this place but it’s distorted.

“I slept with someone else,” he said clearer.

Your breathing seemed to pick up, thumb cramping from how hard you’re gripping your fork.

“It was a mistake. Y/N please believe me. I-,”

“I was at home… taking care of our baby, battling the PPD, overexerting myself to get back into shape so that you would still want me and your first thought is to sleep with someone else?,”

Your voice was eerily calm, robotic almost. Your fork clanks against the plate when you lose your grip. Everything is starting to feel numb.

“Honey-,”

“You don’t get the call me that anymore,” throat clenching around the words, trying to keep your composure.

“I was drunk,” he tried to justify.

“Did,” clearing your throat, “Did you at least use p-protection?,”

“I don’t think we should get into the details,”

A painful wail echoed throughout the house. You knew his answer. Your hand flies to your mouth to keep your cries in so you don’t wake Nico.

The distance. The perfume. His anger and frustration. It all made sense.

“I would have given you what you wanted,” you tremble at your own words, “I don’t care that I was healing. I would have fucking given you what you needed,”

“No,” He whimpered, “Honey, I don’t know what happened. I drank and you know I don’t drink and it just-,”

Another woman… experiencing your husband in that way, when you needed him was Earth shattering. You hadn’t received a hug from him in weeks, no kiss from him in almost two months now, he doesn’t hold you and the sex stopped about two months before Nico was born.

“Was it the… did the stretch marks turn you off? I started using the cocoa butter, I just needed time,”

You felt so raw, like an exposed nerve and the pain won’t stop. You’re just trying to make sense of it all.

“Don’t do this, Y/N,” he had some nerve to cry right now. This was his doing. He went out and cheated.

“It’s a m-myth that we stay stretched out after birth, it would have felt the same,” you pleaded, “I just needed to heal. I-,”

“No I.. It’s not that. I know that’s a myth! I just, I had too much to drink,”

“I refuse to believe that,” you lament, “It had to be something about me that pushed you to her. I-I got better with keeping up on showering, I’m sorry you had to see me like that I was just so sad all the time I was stuck-,”

“Y/N !,” his fists bang on the table and you flinch, breath trembling.

“I don’t know why I did it and I’m sorry I did it. I’m so sorry, baby. I was… I was stressed out and I blacked out. I know that’s not acceptable but-,”

“You turned your back on your family,” you clenched your chest, it was feeling like your heart was actually breaking, “You do not turn your back on your family!,”

“I love you and Nico,”

“I take you, Y/N Y/L/N, as my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward,” you repeat his vows back to him and you can see him start to get sick to his stomach. How can you love someone and hurt them like this?

“I promise to cherish and love you, to be faithful and to support you through sickness and in health. For rich or for poor until death do us part,” you jab your finger in his direction, images flashing before your eyes from what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, a day that now meant nothing.

“You said those words!! You lied to me that day, you broke your vows!”

“I didn’t lie. I love you. Y/N, please it was a mistake,”

“This is the last time you lie to me,” this was a man who you’d always follow to the ends of the Earth. The man who made life worth living but has now taken that will away.

“I’m not lying,” he’s groveling, “I drank to ease the pressure but I didn’t know when to stop a-and she was all over me, I thought she was you. I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk!,”

“As if being drunk makes it better?,” you whisper, you hate that you’re looking at him and his cheeks are wet. The fucking gall to act like the victim here.

“You gave me Nico! We tried for years. You watched me blame myself for not being able to conceive. You watched as I panicked when we found out we were having him and you watched me struggle to stay alive… watched me struggle to be a mother, you watched me fall apart and instead of keeping your word you run off to get your fucking dick wet?!,”

You stand up from the table, chair screeching against the floor and walk away into the kitchen where he unfortunately follows.

“I love you and I love Nico and I don’t want to lose that,”

“It’s a little too late for that!,”

“Please don’t say that,” he took a step forward but you took two back to get away from him.

“A man… who left me, while I was still recovering, to go party with his friends and sleep with another woman isn’t a man who loves me. You left me to take care of our baby boy knowing I was scared to be alone with him because I don’t know what the FUCK I’M DOING!! But nooo, you couldn’t wait long enough for me to heal. That’s selfishness, that’s not love!,”

You push him but he just stands there and takes it so you do it again and again until you’re pounding on his chest, sobbing at how things fell apart so fast.

“Y/N stop! Stop… Baby, stop!!!,” he grabs your wrists and holds you in place, eyes burning into yours. You don’t know who he is anymore.

“I wish you never told me!,” you gasp for air, “I have a son to take care of, you should have kept it to yourself, you should have continued to lie!,” you push him so hard he actually stumbles back into the wall.

“I couldn’t… it was eating at me, I-,”

“And I hope does for the rest of your life because we are done! You didn’t just hurt me. You hurt an innocent baby boy who doesn’t know any better and I’ll be damned if my son is raised by a ‘man’ who has no respect for his spouse!!!,”

He ran a hand through his hair, panicking about what he has done and how his family is falling apart before it even started. He did this.

There’s no one to blame.

He can’t blame you. You were healing all while falling apart. He knows how common PPD is and yet he centered himself in your own mental health struggles and now he’s here.

It’s his fault.

“How do I make this right, Y/N please? I want to make this work. I love you,”

“Do you have a time machine?,” the rhetorical question made this situation all more real. This was his reality now and he’s ruined something so good, and for what? The man who stood at the altar and declared his love for you in front of the most important people in your lives was not who he sees in the mirror anymore and he’s definitely not who you’re seeing now.

You grip the granite counter, head hanging low. You try to calm down, try to catch your breath but you just can’t.

Picking your head up, your eyes find his once more and your face is stoic, void of any emotions that are overwhelming your nervous system right now.

The hurt of his deception was taking over your body like a virus and there was no treatment to fix it, it has infected you and will slowly deteriorate you over time.

“So what are you going to say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?,”

Seems dramatic. But it feels like you’re dying. This is a betrayal you never expected. You thought you’d be the exception in life. That you’d get the guy and white picket fence. But you ended up just being another broken hearted woman.

“I love you… so much. Please can we work this out?,”

His begging set something off inside of you and you lost it.

“You don’t cheat on someone you love!,” you threw a vase of flowers, “You don’t cheat on your fucking wife!,” fists pounding in your counter.

“You don’t go out drinking when your wife is left crying at home, beside herself with anxiety that she’ll hurt herself or her son!,” this time it’s a glass plate that you threw like a frisbee in which he dodged just in time.

“I needed you!,” you scream at the top of your lungs, “I needed you! Nico needed you, he needed us!!,”

“Y/N Stop!,” Nicholas shouted over the shattering glass and sobs.

“He needed us but instead you had some random bitch pinned against the wall in some sleazy club bathroom!,” the image makes you sick to envision.

After you throw the last item within your reach, you fall to your knees, clutching your chest as you let out the scream of a banshee.

It hurts to inhale and it feels like you’re having a heart attack.

“Y/N!,” Nicholas rushes over to you and you begin to hear Nico crying in the back.

“Baby, please. Come on!,” his voice becomes muffled like you’re underwater and you can’t make anything out.

He’s blurry and it feels like you’re stuck in a current, trying to keep your head above water, gasping for air but the waves keep dragging you under.

“Y/N!,” he’s shaking you to snap you out of it, to get you back down to Earth but you’re still fighting him off. Still throwing weak punches.

“Come on, baby. Come back to me,”

Your eyes are shut tight as you try to find your breath but it’s not working.

“I’m right here! Just open your eyes! I’m right here!,”

You can’t look at him right now. The fact that he’s even this close to you makes it worse.

“Y/N! Please you’re scaring me!!”

With one last stern shake, you open your eyes, a large gasp echoing in your ears and you’re covered in cold sweats, grasping at what you can reach which are the hot sheets on your bed.

“Hey, shhh. Shhh. I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re safe,” he’s brushing the hair out of your face, your bonnet was nowhere to be found.

“It was just another nightmare,” he whispers.

Your head turns to him and you take in your surroundings.

The white numbers on the digital clock read 2:17 am. Nicholas is in a plain white shirt and his briefs and the moon is shining through the sheer curtains of your room.

You look back to him and your face frowns as your eyes start to burn with the salty drops.

“Was it the same one?,” he asks, all you can do is shake your head.

“Y-you cheated,” you choked, “In this one you l-left me alone with Nico and cheated,”

You see the way the words tugged at his heart, bothering him greatly. He’s trying to hide the hurt on his face but he knows it’s not your fault that your mind is displaying these disconcerting scenes in your head.

“I’d never do that to you,” he caresses your cheek, “Baby, believe me. I would never fucking do that to you. I love you and Nico too much to do that,”

You throw yourself in his arms and just let it all out. This one felt so much more real than the other ones you’ve had before.

Nicholas held you for a bit before he started to ease away but you had a tight grip on his shirt, not wanting him to leave.

“I’ll be right back,” he reassured with a kiss to your forehead, “Nico is up. I’m gonna go get him,” he sat you up against the headboard as you tried to alleviate the uneasiness that soaked your body.

The three week old baby is heard whining when Nicholas brings him in the room.

“You wanna hold him? I think he’s hungry. If not I can get a bottle,”

“I wanna hold him. I need to hold him,”

Nicholas was so gentle when placing him in your arms, even helped you unbutton your night gown so Nico could start to feed. When the baby latched, he was subdued and curled into you, feeling safe in your embrace.

“Your doctor said the nightmares are normal,” Nicholas assured, rubbing his hands on your thighs to ease some of the tension you’re storing in your body.

“I just want them to stop,” You were exhausted. Almost every night since having Nico, you’d woken up in cold sweats and tears. Tonight was so much worse, you were sobbing and thrashing in your sleep, throwing punches at Nicholas as he tried to wake you, unbeknownst to you of course.

“I know it’s a lot but please don’t leave me. Don’t leave us, please,” you flex your jaw, trying to keep your cries to a minimum

“In sickness and in health, Y/N. I meant those words. I will never hurt you or our family, I’d rather die,”

The way he stared in your eyes, this is the man you married. The man in your dreams was just some monster your mind made up, a sick play on your fears.

The mind has a macabre way of playing into your insecurities, attacking itself, like a snake eating its own tail.

But Nicholas was there every step of the way, every nightmare, every therapy appointment, every good day and bad day until you felt like yourself again.

He kept his word.

And he didn’t break his vows.

[highdreaming]

Preferences: Protective Things He Does

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Find more at: Masterlist

» Pedri + Gavi + João Félix

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

--

Pedri 

He knows you’re someone that enjoys staying home most times, not really being a very outgoing person and he’s more than fine with it. He usually doesn’t go out much either, you two keeping company to each other while watching a movie. 

But sometimes, when you’re forced to go out - to a Barcelona’s party or event to accompany your boyfriend, Pedri makes sure to keep tabs on you all night. He hates to leave you by yourself and always makes sure to check up on you, even if the other WAGS are there to keep you company. 

Pedri knows how stressful and socially awkward it can be for you and he tries his best to make sure that you’re doing alright and having fun. 

He always finds you, pressing a sweet kiss in your temple while asking into your ear if everything is fine and promising that you guys will leave as soon as he’s finished with whatever press/publicity he has to do. 

All the girls love to swoon over his actions, commenting how sweet Pedri is for always looking out for you while his teammates love to tease him about the whipped boyfriend he is. 

But in the end Pedri only cares about your well-being and as long as you’re fine, he’s happy.

"Hey, honey. Everything good around here? Give me just more 5 minutes and then we're good to go."

Gavi

Gavi has a bad temper, which is activated every time he reads all the negative comments you get online because you’re dating him.

All those nasty people that keep hitting your self-confidence, making you feel bad about yourself when in reality he’s the one who feels lucky to have you in his life. Your social media is often flooded by comments and messages telling you that you don’t deserve Gavi. 

It makes his blood boil to read them and he can’t stop himself from stalking all those accounts, blocking and reporting all of them, one by one. It’s his guilty pleasure, one that you don’t know about. 

It’s annoying and tiring to say the least, cause they always make new accounts but it’s worth it when you mention to him that occasionally the hate stops all of the sudden.

It always comes back, but he loves to retaliate against those people that are complete jerks to you and sometimes even exposes them by mentioning them in his own social media, making sure everyone knows what type of disgusting people are out there, hiding behind a screen. 

Plus, he also reports all the pervert male comments under the pictures you post ;) only this time, it’s because of jealousy. 

"Someone keeps reporting the hate accounts? Really, is that so? Wow, that's nice, right?"

João Félix

João’s life is quite busy and it’s very frustrating for him that he can’t always be there for you as much as he wants to because of all the practices, games and traveling. 

He constantly worries about something bad happening to you while he’s away and because of that, João insists on texting and calling you when he’s not around. 

He just wants to check if you got home safely, reminding you to lock the doors and windows at night, to make sure you activate the alarm system before you go to bed. 

If you don’t answer his calls or take too long texting back, he’ll get so anxious especially because he’s far away, unable to do anything in case there’s an emergency.

João will probably spam you a bit and if he’s feeling too uneasy, he might check the security cameras of the house to make sure you’re safe and sound. 

Sometimes you might get a bit annoyed at his protective side, but you never lash out on him, knowing that he gets afraid of the dangerous times we live in.

"Hey, are you okay? Okay, that's good. I just got a bit worried cause you didn't text me all day. Now that I know you're fine, I feel way better, babe."

-----

Please don't ignore me :(

[becca-e-barnes]

"You are. Every Inch. The fantasy."

I always thought men like this only exist in fiction but it turns out I was wrong, real men like this exist too and I'm thrilled about it 🙈 This needs a part 2 and I fully intend to give it one!

This belongs to the 'Shit He Said' series, and let me tell you, he's got it backwards.

Pairing: Professor!Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his early 40's, reader is in her 20's), semi-public, professor/student, sex toys, praise kink, degradation, pet names, multiple orgasms, consensual forced orgasms, I talk way too much about trusts and equitable maxims

Summary: Your professor finds a way to distract you during class.

Minors, do not interact.

You’d never been a ‘front row’ kind of gal.  Not that there was anything wrong with sitting in the front row.  Nothing at all.

You tend to prefer the safety of rows four to six and the comfort that comes from knowing that you're close enough to avoid straining your eyes when trying to read the screen but not so close that you're always going to be picked on when no one volunteered an answer.

Rows four to six were a safe zone.  They kept you far enough away from the chatter at the back of the room and close enough to the front that you often found your lecturers would recognise you in the corridor and offer a polite smile.

You’d found your sweet spot and it hadn’t failed you yet.

It didn’t hurt that the lecturer that took your Thursday afternoon classes was incredibly easy to look at.  He was always clean shaven and he had a voice as slow and sweet as warm honey.  In fact, you often wondered why he’d went into teaching in the first place.  With a voice like that, he’d make a killing recording audiobooks.  His hair was dark but scattered with greys and it seemed to have a natural, very loose wave that held its shape nicely.  He’d aged incredibly well, proving that your 40’s have the potential to be exceptionally kind to you, just as his seem to be to him.

He came off calm.  He dripped composure but he had a passion for teaching that he couldn’t have hidden if he tried.  

But perhaps the most attractive aspect of his character was the fact that he pushed you.  He knew you were capable of more.  He coaxed some of the more difficult concepts out with you in class because he knew you were able and willing to develop your own understanding.  He didn’t let you dwell in comfort for too long before asking more of you, expecting you to be more and while it left you a little on edge, it was electrifying, testing the boundaries of your own capability.

He had, in many ways, found a favourite in you.  He found himself invested in your learning, keen to aid your professional development and supplement your understanding.

But tension builds, as tension does.  There’s nothing wrong with letting it, after all.  Playful debate back and forth inside the lecture hall turns into a more sustained conceptual analysis after hours.  Your one-to-one sessions move out of the classroom and into the bar and eventually, to his bed and then his kitchen the following morning while you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and cooking breakfast.

It’s an interesting arrangement, to say the least and you’re acutely aware that no one can know about this, for both your sake and his.  You know exactly the kind of speculation that would float around if people knew.  They’d assume you get some kind of advantage from sleeping with your professor; that you’re only doing it for the grades.  It’s difficult and ultimately pointless to try to nail down which of you are benefitting most from the scenario, nor does it help to think of only one of you as a “beneficiary”.  You’re both benefitting from great sex and there really doesn’t need to be more to it than that.

“Wave of madness.  I got you a present last night.”  His message flashing up on your phone screen has the edges of your lips curling into a little smile.  You’re not used to someone getting you gifts.  It’s not unwelcome by any means, but you absolutely want some more details.

“Oh?  You didn’t need to!”  Your thumbs feel like they’re flying over the keyboard and a slight anxiety settles in your chest while you’re waiting on a response.

“I know I didn’t need to but I wanted to.  I got a matching one for myself.”  That doesn’t really clear anything up.  In fact, it only raises more questions.  You’re reminded for a second of your brother, his girlfriend and their matching crocs.  Somehow you can’t imagine that’s what Bucky has bought for you both. 

“Hang around after class on Thursday.  I just hope the box is discreet when it arrives.”  Your heart thumps just a little harder.  This sounds far too exciting already.  

“So that’s how the requirements of the common intention constructive trust were upheld by the House of Lords when they overruled the Court of Appeal’s decision Stack v Dowden.”  You never thought you could possibly care so much about what happens when an unmarried couple separates and only one of them is a legal owner of their home.

7 pages of notes later, your brain was buzzing pleasantly, watching your Professor pack up his things while explaining the work for your seminar on Monday.  You didn’t pay it much attention; there was very little point given that you had completed the prep work already anyway.

“Actually, Mr Barnes, I wanted to ask you something if you have a moment?”  You quizzed, noticing that his face gave nothing at all away.  He was as stoic as ever.  

You always had a question so no one noticed anything strange about the fact you tended to wait behind after class.  “How would you align the Supreme Court ruling in Jones v Kernott with the House of Lords’ decision in Stack?”  

It wasn’t a difficult question.  The cases were fundamentally very similar so the answer boiled down to a simple comparison of the basics.  You just needed something to ask him while everyone filtered out.

“Interesting question.”  Bucky smiled, looking up from his satchel to see how many people were still left in the hall before you could drop the act.  It isn’t an interesting question; he’s just awfully polite.  “How do you think the two rulings align?”  

“Well, it makes sense that they both hinge on the fact the courts don’t have to impute the parties’ intentions.  The parties’ intentions are clear in the very strict separation of assets and finances so it makes it easier to consider their respective contributions to the home.  No matter what the parties allege, consideration of the fact their contributions to the home were different is a sensible starting point.” 

You’ve answered your own question and he knows you know it.  Ultimately, the rulings, while slightly different, do align.

The coy smirk on his lips makes excitement bloom in your chest once more.

“Good girl.”  He coos, just as the heavy wooden door clicks shut at the very back of the room.  “I’m proud of you.”  Oh, that hits hard.  Your blood thrums through your body and you’re not entirely sure how he always knows exactly what to say.

“Thank you.”  Your voice is a soft squeak and barely any more than that.

He seems pleased by the effect he’s had on you and it doesn’t take him long to cross the space between his desk and the front row of the tiered seats.

He doesn’t waste any time, cupping the back of your neck in one huge hand, pulling you towards him into a searing kiss.  He tastes faintly of the flat white he brought to class this afternoon and his lips are so soft and gentle, despite their urgency.

“I can’t hang around today.  I have the faculty board meeting now and an event this evening.”  He sounds disappointed; you are too but it’s not the end of the world.  You’ll see him next week, if not sooner but you find you build your hopes up all week, almost just living for your Thursday nights with him.

“That’s okay.  Enjoy the board.”  You tease and he can’t help but laugh.  No one has ever enjoyed those meetings in the history of their existence.

“You know where I’d rather be.”  He reminds you, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, barely able to tear his eyes off your lips.  It’s a soft moment.  Just a slight devolution from the passion a few seconds earlier but there’s no sense letting him go to the faculty board meeting half hard.  Any arousal would be stifled in minutes and that would be a terrible waste.

“There’s always next week!”  You remind him, your voice bright in spite of the disappointment that you won’t get to spend time with him tonight.

“You’re right.  But that reminds me, I got you a little something.  Charge it up.  Play around with it.  But bring it to class next week and come early.”  He steps back to his desk, pulling a little brown cardboard box from his satchel before dropping it into your open bag.

“Whatever you say, Sir.”  You tease, unable to help yourself but you know he needs to go.  At this rate, he’s going to be late.

“You.”  He whispers before pressing his lips to yours.  “Are dangerous.”  His lips are so inviting, it’s hard to stop.  “And you know it.”  

You can’t help but smirk to yourself.  He makes you feel powerful and desired and it’s incredibly attractive.

“You need to go.”  You remind him, capturing his lips just once more.  You’ve hardly even let yourself touch him because you know if you do, you’ll not want to let him leave.

“I do.  I’ll talk to you later.”  He doesn’t give into the temptation of one more kiss and it’s probably for the best.  Instead, he scoops up his satchel, securing it over his shoulder, heading up the stairs with you.  He holds the door for you like always, going your separate ways without a second glance now that you’re back in public.

Oh.  

Oh.

Well.

Thank God the box was discrete.

Inside the brown cardboard, you find a second box that’s ever so slightly smaller.  

The picture on the front tells you everything you need to know before you’ve even read the words “Bluetooth Adjustable Dual Vibrator”.

You’ve seen these before; the range of toys that can be controlled from an app on your phone but you’re rather excited when your head reminds you that it probably won’t be your phone that Bucky has in mind to control the toy.

The box is quickly discarded in favour of putting the toy on the charger while you read through the instruction manual.  You didn’t expect to be so heavy.  It’s not heavy in a bad way though; it feels sturdy.  While adjustable, it holds its shape nicely and for a second, you’re just not entirely sure what shape you’ll need it to be.

Once the charging light goes out, you click the bottom button once, following the instructions to set it up.  You download the app; you connect the toy and you start exploring the features with the toy in your hand.  

You can sync it to music, you can control both vibrating elements separately, you can play with different pulse settings or you can make your own, the app has its own chat function, you can send voice notes or videos and then delete them.  This thing.  Does.  Everything.  But that’s when you notice the option to sync up more than one toy at once so they can be controlled together.  Turning yours up would simultaneously turn the second toy up and you can’t help but feel entirely thrilled at that thought.

The following Thursday can’t come soon enough but the evenings pass a lot quicker when you have a fun new way to keep yourself entertained.

You’ve managed to find the perfect angle, one that lets the toy sit comfortably, pressed to the sweet spot inside you while the other component is pressed to your clit and you’re pleasantly surprised by just how mind-blowing this thing is.

The fact that this is really a dream come true isn’t lost on you while you walk onto campus.  Each year, your professor gets a new class and you’re certain that in the years he’s been teaching, plenty of beautiful young women must’ve wanted him.  You’ve seen for yourself how other girls talk to him, looking up at him through thick lashes, their hands clasped neatly behind their back.  You can’t fault them.  You’re just not sure how he’s never given in before now.

You press the classroom door open, slipping inside and closing it behind you.

“Well?  How is it?”  You hardly have the door closed before you hear Bucky’s voice from the front of the hall, setting up his presentation on the computer, ensuring it’s projected onto the screen.

“How is what?”  You tease, feigning innocence, descending the steps to your usual seat in the fourth row.

“How is the vibrator I bought you?”  He doesn’t waiver in the slightest and even the fact he’s so blunt about it sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“I’ll give you a full review once I’ve tried all the settings but I can tell you it’s been perfect so far.”  He looks satisfied with that answer and there’s nothing you want to do more than please him in that moment.

“Did you bring it with you?”  He has a mischievous look in his eyes, watching you pull the little black drawstring bag from your backpack.

“We can set it up when we get back to yours and I’ll show you just how good it is.”  Your suggestion doesn’t seem unreasonable but the corner of his lips tug into the tiniest smirk and for a second you worry you’ve said something stupid.

“Actually, I was thinking we could try it out now.”  He’s studying your face and when he doesn’t notice any evident discomfort, he leads you by the hand down to his desk at the front of the room, encouraging you to hop up onto it and you’re more than happy to.

“We don’t have a whole lot of time.”  His lips are on your neck, kissing gently down the right side while he cups the other side in his hand.  This is dangerous.  It’s so easy to lose track of time like this and taking it slow isn’t a luxury you have in that moment.  His face is so soft, you note he must’ve shaved that morning and you’re infinitely grateful because you hate how stubble makes your skin break out.

“We’ll have more than enough time.”  His warm hand lands on your bare knee, under the skirt of your dress, pressing your legs apart while his mouth continues its sinful trail down your skin.  “Class lasts a couple of hours.  I’d say that’s long enough.”

Fuck.  He’s serious.  

Alarm bells should be ringing in your brain but they’re dampened by the overwhelming feeling of his mouth on your skin and his hand trailing slowly up the inside of your thigh.

“Buck, we can’t.  That’s such a bad idea.”  Is it really?  The words are past your lips because you know that’s the response you’re supposed to give.  You’re not allowed to want this the way you do.

“Is it, sweetheart?  Why?  You don’t think you can keep up while I’m distracting you?  Maybe you aren’t just as bright as I thought.”  It’d be a blow to your ego if you weren’t acutely aware he’s only looking to get a rise from of you.

“No, I wouldn’t want the standard of teaching to slip while you’re distracted.”  You roll your hips forward against his hand between your legs, letting him feel what just a few minutes of him kissing your neck does to you.

“Let me worry about that.  I want you to focus on answering my questions like a good girl.”  He scoops you up with his hands under your ass, carrying you the few short steps back to edge of the desk in front of the fourth row.  He sets you down on the desk, kneeling in front of you while he kisses from your ankle, up your calve to your knee and then over the couple more inches to the hem of your skirt.  

He slips his phone from his pocket, opening the toy app and connecting his phone in just a few seconds before returning his phone to his pocket.

You watch as he turns the toy over in his hands a couple of times.  The vibrant pink certainly draws your attention, not that there’s anywhere else you would rather look anyway.  Not even when he’s slipping your panties down your legs, tucking them into his pocket.

“If you really need me to stop, drop your pen.”  He looks sincere and you appreciate it but you’re almost certain you won’t need a way out.

The tip of his index finger trails gently between your soaked folds and you couldn’t miss the gentle wet sounds if you had tried.  “Are you going to be a slut for me?”  Oh, that’s a sharp turn.  “You do realise I’m going to make you cum in a room full of your classmates.  Not just once.  I want you cumming over and over until you wish you could stop.  And then I’m going to keep going.”  He presses the fingertip to your clit, rubbing slowly up and down, watching your face while you melt into the pleasure.  “You’re just going to be a good girl and take everything I give you.  You know why?”  You shake your head, barely able to look at him.  “Because if you make a sound, everyone in the room will know what a slut you are.”

Your breath catches in your throat, acutely aware that he’s right.  This is the sluttiest thing you’ve ever even thought of doing and for just a second you wonder if this man is ruining you.  He probably is.  You’ll absolutely let him keep doing it though.

He wants to coax you to your first orgasm right there on the desk.  He wants to sink two of those long, beautiful fingers inside you and gently curl them, exactly how he knows you like but there just isn’t enough time.  Later though, if you can handle it.

“You are.”  He whispers, spreading your legs wider, giving himself full access to your sex.  “Every inch.”  He kisses the side of your knee, placing the bulbous head of the toy to your entrance, letting it glide inside you. “The fantasy.”

You gasp at the feeling of the toy, finally sitting comfortably, right where you need it.

He’s got it all wrong and you’re not even sure that he knows it.  So many other girls fawn over this man, whether he realises it or not.  He mustn’t know how desired he is; or how many young women would kill to be in your shoes at this very moment, being nothing short of worshipped by a frustratingly attractive, intelligent older man.

He hums contentedly as he stands up, offering you a gentle kiss before making his way back to the front of the hall to his computer.  The other students should be arriving any second, not that you’ve even really been thinking about that.

You make yourself busy, pulling your notebook out of your bag, along with your little pencil case, lining a couple of pens up on the desk while the rest of the students start to trickle in, taking their usual seats.

Everything is going smoothly, in fact, you almost question whether Bucky has got so wrapped up in his lecture about equitable maxims that he’s forgotten about the toy altogether.

The first half hour passes quickly and while the topic is interesting, it’s hard to relax, knowing that he could disrupt your train of thought at any point.

The arousal he’s built up in you doesn’t subside either.  You’re always reminded that the toy is there, despite how interested you are in his explanation of equitable maxims.

You’re about 35 minutes in before you feel the first hint of a buzz inside you and it’s so surprising, it almost makes you squeak.  You faintly register that it’s only the internal element that he’s brought to life and you’re more than fine with that.

Heat blossoms through your chest and while it feels good, it’s not nearly enough.  You don’t want to need more.  Not when you know you can’t beg him for it so instead, you avoid his gaze, focusing on your notes and not on the man at the front of the room who’s eyes are almost entirely trained on you.

A further half hour passes before you feel any kind of change, just as you were beginning to squirm in your seat.

The clitoral element buzzes to life, quickly followed by the internal element turning up.  Your thighs clench together, pleasure radiating through you and you find yourself grinding against the seat beneath you to press the toy exactly where you need it.  Your hand stalls on the page, your train of thought abandoned because even at only half it’s strength, this toy is incredible.

“So now that we’ve looked at the defining characteristics of equitable maxims, what do you think the problems are?”  Bucky hasn’t looked at you since he turned the toy up and you’re beyond glad.  You know this question is coming to you though.  He’d warned you.

You glance up from your page to find you’re right.  He’s now right looking at you, waiting for an answer and he looks so incredibly smug, it makes you shiver.  He knows you’re getting off on this but so is he.  You’re no better than each other.

“You could argue maxims are outdated.”  You provide the answer but that’s not enough.  The vibration inside you gets just a little stronger and that’s when you see his phone in his hand, his thumb sliding across the screen, controlling the strength of the toy.

“Good.  What else?”  He’s relentless.  Fuck.

The increased sensation leaves your mind blank.  You can’t cum now.  You can’t.  Not with everyone watching.  “Um, they’re too old to be relevant?”  You’ve never sounded so unsure.

“You’ve said that already.”  Shit, you did.  “What’s the biggest potential flaw with that system?”  This is embarrassing now.  You should know this.  You do know this.  The toy inside you, getting incrementally more intense doesn’t help you gain clarity of thought though.

“The…  Discretionary power maxims afford to judges.”  That answer pleased him.

“Very good.”  He nods, slowly making his way to the other side of the classroom, taking the attention off you.  You notice his thumb sliding methodically up and down on his phone screen while he explains that maxims don’t offer the same rigidity as legislation, but you truly can’t find it in yourself to care.  He’s giving your body what it needs and no matter how your head tells you to stop, you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try.

You look down at the desk, trying to keep your hand subtly clasped over your own mouth, muffling any sounds that threaten to escape your lips.  Your body flutters around the toy, pleasure almost making you feel dizzy as you cum while holding your breath. You want to roll your hips. You want to take and take until you don't need more but you know you can't.

Once your high has subsided, you find yourself very quickly given over to overstimulation when the toy doesn’t stop.  There’s no escape from the feeling that’s now becoming almost too intense to bear in the very best way.  

“But on the other hand, how could it be argued that these flaws have been overcome?”  His voice rings through the classroom and you realise that if no one answers, the question is coming to you, as it always does.

Sure enough, after a moment or two of painful silence, your professor has made his way back to your side of the room, stopping in front of you once more, waiting expectantly.

“Case law.”  That’s all you can manage.  You bring yourself to look up, meeting his stare and for the first time since your orgasm and he can see your desperation.  He can almost feel your need, just from the look on your face.  He’s seen you like this before, overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re receiving but not willing to tap out.  You’re enjoying it.  You’re allowed to.  But he’s far from done.

“What about it?”  He almost feels guilty for how much he’s picked on you during this class and he makes a mental note to make it up to you later.

The toy is at full intensity now and you can’t bring yourself to focus.  You can’t think of anything except the gentle buzzing that you’re certain only you can hear, the feeling of the inside of your thighs that are now slick with arousal and the unstoppable, building orgasm that’s about to take hold of you.

“The body of case law now prevents any gaps.  And case law sets binding precedent so modern judges have very little discretion.”  You could’ve developed your thinking but not today.

“100%.  That’s exactly right.”  He looks proud and part of you almost thinks that's what was really enough to tip you over the edge into blinding pleasure once more.

Again, he walks away, over to the other side of the room to draw attention away from you.  Your orgasm makes your thighs shake and if that soft whimper came from you, you’re sure it wasn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear.  It’s electric; the thrill of doing something you know you absolutely shouldn’t and it only makes this even more intense.    You’re almost not sure you’ve ever cum this hard before but this isn’t the time to try to recall past experiences.  Right now, he’s turned the toy down, rushing through the last three powerpoint slides while explaining the work for Monday and you’ve never been more glad to have a class wrap up early.

[oftlunarialmoon]

75 Agere Journal Prompts

Draw yourself a kawaii bento lunch!

Write down any chores for the day as a to-do list or sticker check off list

Design a smol outfit

Make a playlist for your littlespace

Draw portraits of your stuffies

Write your headcanons for your comfort characters as caregivers

Write down some animal facts from different parts of the world that interest you!

List items that are your favorite color

Make a magazine collage with a specific theme

List ideas you want to do in certain seasons

List your favorite agere nicknames

Write down any agere headcanons you have for fictional characters or OCs

List stuffie name ideas

List all your current stuffie names

List your favorite phone apps for littlespace

Make a tier list of your opinions on different types of candy

Draw what your favorite characters would look like as stuffies

Invent a new kidcore fashion trend

List 5 facts about your favorite sea animal

Design your Jolly Roger if you were a pirate

Draw yourself as a Pokemon Trainer

List how you deal with stress in agere methods

Write out any recipes you can make while regressed

List crafts you’d like to make

Make a page about your morning routine when regressed

Make a page about your night time routine when regressed

Write out any rules or guidelines you have when regressed

What’s on your Agere/Littlespace Movies list?

Write about what you would do on a visit to the beach

List any animes you like when small

List your favorite agere books

Dear Past Me - What would you tell your past self?

Dear Future Me - What would you tell your future self?

List songs that make you regress

List your regression triggers (positive or negative)

Write about how you would comfort a friend in need

Write about your dream vacation

Make your christmas/birthday/holiday gift wishlist

List your fave agere video games

List your favorite stims

Write a letter to your favorite fictional character

Write a letter to a friend or family member

Play I spy and write down the categories and things you find

Make a page of your top 5 agere songs from the last month

List free activities you can do when regressed

Make a collage page from a coloring sheet and stickers

Play scavenger hunt with stickers of your preferred theme

Use a page to write down word games like word scrambles and mad libs

Fill a page with positive messages for yourself to read later

Write down tarot interpretations if you do tarot reading while smol

List ideas for kandi bracelets you could make

Declare a random day a holiday of some kind, write down how you celebrate it

Use a page to “braindump” all of your current thoughts, even if it’s babbling

Make a sticker collage inspired by your caregiver

Make a sticker collage inspired by the seasons

Trace your hand onto the page and give yourself fun nail art, tattoos, or accessories

Draw a race track for a toy car, add obstacles or scenery with stickers

Write a social media profile page for a comfort character

Make a “top secret” file with your stuffie’s secrets >:)

Make a collage inspired by yourself

Dedicate a page to facts about one of your special interests

Write a poem for your pet (or fave stuffie!)

Draw a scene around a sticker of your favorite animal

Draw the inside of a house and use stickers to furnish and decorate it

Draw a scene to play with your toys in

Try a mindful reset page (List problems you’re facing, then list more positive mindset changes to each one)

Document the stories you play out with dolls or toys

Write down “this or that” prompts in one color then answer them in another color !

Use stickers to tell a story or make a fun comic

Fill a page with word art, using any words that make you feel smol

Make a list of all of your OCs

Use a page to document Minecraft coordinates of your favorite builds

Draw the outline of a purse or bag, and use stickers to show what a character of your choice would have in their bag, or-

Use stickers to show what you would put in your dream agere bag!

Draw a face on a page in marker or pen, and use makeup to decorate it! (or face paint :p)

[velvetstreets]

Can I request that the reader is an actress and she jokingly said she had a crush on Jack in an interview then he slides in her dms bc he saw that she was filming in a location close to one of his shows in the UK and the reader is akdhdlslslsjsk and goes and she goes backstage and then after his show she invites him out to a late dinner or something and he eats more than dinner 🤭🤭🤭

miss Blanca it’s an honor to write for u again my bby 🙇🏽‍♀️🫶

also I forgot they were in the UK for a moment and have Jack driving in this, which we all know that man would probably die driving on the other side of the road - but for this, we pretend! :)

None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.

Warnings: basically fluff!! w a side of smut :), just some good ol’ making out, and oral sex (f!receiving)

—————————————— 

“So who’ve you got your eye on then, hmm?” Amelia questioned you as you sat across from her a chicken shop in London.

“Wha- I don’t have an eye on any-“ you started to laugh, feeling the camera pan in on you.

“Don’t lie, you’ve got to! You’re the breakout star of the year with your new film, and have caught the eyes of everyone, let’s be real!” She said smiling.

“Harry Styles?”

“He’s a sweetheart, but no.”

“C’mon, Drake?”

“No!” You laughed loudly. “He’s my older brother. Nothing going on there.”

“How about Jack Harlow?” She pressed you in a loving fashion.

“Yeah, Jack Harlow.” You tried to keep your composure, playing it off as a joke even though you did think he was cute.

“I’ve got an in with him you know? He took me out on a date once, different chicken shop though. Nothing further though, my eyes are more focused on Idris Elba.” She jokes.

The interview finishes filming after while later after some more banter and questions; and Amelia approaches you after.

“You know I can set you two up if you want? I have his number.” She offered, whipping out her phone and giving you an encouraged look.

“No, no that’s really okay.” You motioned at her, heat slightly running to your cheeks. “I’d rather get at him myself; or him at me. Not anyone in between.” You told her.

“Oh he’ll absolutely slide into your DM’s after seeing that. He won’t be able to resist you.” She laughed, giving you a wink before going to talk to her producers.

Nah, he’ll ignore it. It’s whatever! You thought to yourself, trying to release the nerves of Jack possibly reaching out.

—

The episode aired a few weeks later, and as you were getting ready for bed, you got a certain notification.

jackharlow wants to message you.

“Oh shit.” You said, eyes widening and sitting up in your bed. Immediately you called your best friend.

“Hey boo-boo, what’s up?” She answered the FaceTime snacking on a cookie.

“Yeah, so fuckin’ Jack Harlow just DMed me?”

“Bitch!-” She lept up out of her seat, pushing her face closer to the camera/ “What did he say?!” She yelled excitedly.

“I don’t know! I haven’t opened it yet.” You stared at your DMs, fidgeting with your nails.

“Bitch I swear if you don’t open it right the fuck now-“ she urged you.

“Wait, lemme just wait a few minutes, I don’t want him to see me see his message yet-“ you compromised with her as she rolled her eyes, but let you be. You finally decided to open it and see what he said.

He had sent the instagram post from Chicken Shop Date with a message.

jackharlow: 🙇‍♂️ it’s an honor to be crushed on by thee Y/N. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been crushin’ on you for awhileee now tho.

“Oh god.” You mumbled in shock.

“What? What did he say?” Your best friend pressed you excitedly. You repeated his message out as she let out a squeal.

“AHHH I told you he’s into you too!! I see you girl, shiiiit lemme start with them manifestations you’re always doin’, I’m tryna get me some dick too.” She smirked at you.

You chewed at your lip before deciding on how to respond.

y/ninstagram: Oh really? 🤔 Amelia should’ve mentioned that when she tried to give me your number.

jackharlow: did you take it? 👀

y/ninstagram: nah, I like when people ask me out themselves.

jackharlow: good thing I asked her for your number. Can I call you right now?

You swallowed, hard.

“He wants to call me right now.” You told your friend.

“SHUT UP! Oh my god, okay BYE! Go make babies with that fine ass white man- call me after, love you boo.” She squealed before hanging up.

You looked as his message, and grinned to yourself as you hearted his message.

Soon enough, your phone rang, and your heart was beating out of your throat at this point. You took a small breath and exhaled before answering his FaceTime.

He was laid against some pillows, probably in his hotel room, wearing a blue zip up sweatsuit. His curls framed his face perfectly, and his teeth basically sparkled as he smiled at you.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Jack.” He said.

You rolled your eyes and laughed a little.

“I know. Hi Jack, how are you?” You asked.

“I’m good, better now.” He confidently responded. “And you?” He asked.

“I’m good.. a little tired from work, but good nonetheless. This was also a nice surprise.” You flirted back at him.

He smiled widely, and softly laughed. “Well I’m not gonna hold you up too long, beautiful. I just noticed you’re in London, and was wondering if you would like to come see my show on Friday? We could hang out after and have dinner if you’d like?” He asked in a charming tone.

“Yeah okay, that’d be really nice.” You agreed, biting your lip to hold back your excitement.

“Great. I’ll see you soon then mamas, sleep well.” He said before you said your goodbyes and hung up.

“Oh god.. what’d I just get myself into?” You shook your head, smiling to yourself in disbelief.

—

It was now Friday, and Jack was almost done with his show. You had FaceTimed him all week before today, and as well as the two of you had hit it off; the sexual tension was almost unbearable. He had met you at the entrance and introduced you to everyone before the two of you hung out in the green room for a bit. The two of you bonded and flirted; playful comments and touches thrown here and there before it was time for Jack to perform. Something felt different about him; like the way he made you laugh, like genuinely laugh - not the fake laugh you used in interviews and when meeting upper business executives. Jack was caring and respectful, it was like you could see how soft his heart truly was, with every smile and witty comment with a glint in his eye - it was like you could see his heart glowing. He brought you backstage where you got to hang out with his friend Urban and a few others while Jack performed. You danced and sang along with everyone, and every once in a while, Jack would look over and smile brightly as he saw you having a good time. 

“I can see why he likes you.” Urban said as he stood next to you, cheering his best friend on from the sidelines. 

You turned to face him, a smile still on your face as you watched Jack perform from the corner of your eye. 

“Yeah? Hope it stays that way, ‘cause I kinda like him too.” You admitted to the blonde. 

“Oh no doubt. I haven’t heard him talk this much about a girl before; I can’t get him to shut up.” He laughed. “But I see why, now.” He turned to look at you, smiling. You blushed and lightly bit at your lips, looking over at Jack again. 

“Don’t gas me up too much now Urban, I may end up with an ego like your friend.” You joked, laughing with him as he put a friendly arm around you, continuing to sing and rap along with you as Jack put on an energetic show.

He finally finished with First Class, and the crowd was roaring. He thanked the crowd and made his way to the side of the stage where you stood.

“Sooo... what’d ya think? Not too bad I hope, I know I forgot some of the lyrics, but I think it was salvageable, no?” He said coming up to you; his dazzling smile and the dimples that accompanied it making you swoon.

“You were incredible, they loved you! Pretty sure they didn’t wanna let you go so soon.” You told him, eyes still wide at his work ethic and charisma he brought with him on stage. 

“Mmm, so kinda how I feel about you then?” He smoothly commented, blue eyes never leaving yours. 

“You still got me, we have dinner remember?” You countered, giving him a wink. 

“Of course, I could never forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about this week.” He flashed another smile. “Let me just shower real quick, and then we can get going, yeah?” He said, and you nodded.

“I’ll be quick, I promise!” He yelled to you as he sprinted to his green room like his life depended on it, making you giggle. 

—

When he was ready, Jack told his team he wanted to take a car alone with you, and he guided you outside with him, holding your hand as the two of you talked about any and everything. He opened the door and helped you into the car before jogging over to the driver’s seat. 

“So I realized I never asked you what you wanted to eat- M’sorry about that, but there’s Italian, Chinese, or maybe you want something authentic since we’re in England-” Jack started to nervously babble as he pulled out of the parking lot before he felt you kiss his cheek. 

“No need to apologize Jack, I think it’s very cute that you wanna plan all of this out. But you must be tired no? D’ya wanna just go back to your hotel and order room service?” 

“I’m not that tired, plus I’m tryna treat this amazing girl with what she deserves; the very best.” He said. “Unless you wanna do that? I’m down for whatever you want, really.” He answered honestly. 

You gently kissed his hand that was intertwined with yours. 

“You’re too sweet. But I’ve always been a low-key, take out at home kinda girl. You can save the fancy dates for later on.” You smiled at him. 

“Room service it is then. Whatever my girl wants.” He grinned at you, changing course to his hotel. 

—

Jack basically ordered the entire menu, just so the two of you would have options, even though you told him it wasn’t necessary, he insisted. 

The two of you ate and talked, sharing laughs and playful touches as some Netflix show played in the background; neither of you paying attention to it anymore. You were now sitting next to him, his arm slung around the back of the couch, yearning to feel his touch, but you could tell he was ever the gentleman, not wanting to push any boundaries, but at this point, you were desperate to feel him. 

You turned you head and looked at him, and he did the same, meeting your eyes. You admired the golden, wispy, wiry tufts of facial hair that sculpted his face perfectly, his soft ringlet curls that made you want to lightly pull on them to see them spring back into place, his blue eyes - which were anything but cold, the slope of his nose, the freckled that adorned his cheeks; and finally, his pink lips that looked so soft and supple, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

You leant in and kissed him, with Jack kissing you back passionately. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to that all night, all week really.” He breathed out after you pulled away. 

“Me too, Harlow.” You giggled at him before he pulled you back in for another kiss.

What started out as innocent and mellow, the kiss diverged into a heated make-out session. You turned to straddle Jack as he helped you into his lap, his hands roaming your body, before he started to kiss your neck and down to your chest.

“Fuck, Jack-” you moaned out, his every touch electrifying you. 

“S’it feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, like he wasn’t about to combust with you on his lap. 

“So good.. really good,” you whimpered softly, starting to rut your hips into his, the friction from his jeans hitting against your clothed clit deliciously. 

You tugged at his curls, earning a low groan from him, as you pulled his head up from your neck, devouring him in another heated kiss. Jack moaned into your mouth, his tongue finding yours as you continued to rock against him.

“Bed, Jack- bed, please baby.” You whispered to the curly haired boy. 

“You sure? D-Don’t wanna make you feel like you gotta do anything-” He stuttered. 

“Such a gentleman, Jack Harlow.” You smiled at him before lowering your lips to his, pressing a soft kiss to him. 

“But, I want this, and by the strain I can feel through your pants, I’m pretty sure you want the same thing.” You whispered in his ear, making him shiver and groan. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me Y/N, I swear.” Jack said before picking you up in his arms, making you squeal and giggle as he brought the two of you to his bed. He gently tossed you onto the white sheets, and kissed you, slowly grinding against you as he held your head in his hands intimately. After a few more minutes of soft gasps and groans, and groping eachother, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please Jack, fuck me.” You told him. He stopped momentarily, and let out a sigh of defeat. You froze. Maybe he didn’t want this? Had you misconstrued his signals? Was he not into it anymore?

“Get out of that pretty little head of yours. I want to, believe me I want to - god I can’t even believe I’m saying no to you right now-” He started, eyes boring into yours with a genuine warmth. “But I like you too much, I really don’t wanna fuck this up with you by going too fast, too soon.” He explained. 

Your heart melted at his words, how the hell did this sweetheart of a man fall into your lap?

“Yeah, I get it.” You said. “We have plenty of time to get to that later on.” You agreed, despite your pussy scolding you for denying her what you could only imagine as ‘life changing dick’. 

Jack smiled at you, relived you understood where he was coming from. He kissed you again, savoring the taste of you, the feeling of you on him.

“Buuut...” he started, leaving warm hot kisses along your neck. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a lil’ fun.” Jack said as his hands began to run down your sides.

“Oh yeah?” You feigned obliviousness. “What’d you have in mind?” You asked. 

“Just wanna make you feel good, s’that okay baby?” He asked, continuing to kiss you. 

“Yes, more than okay.” You breathed out, his touch making your head spin.

“Just tell me to stop and I’ll stop, no questions asked.” He told you, squeezing your hand in reassurance. 

Jack kissed down your neck, kissing between the valley of your clothed breasts, down to where the skin of your tummy peeked out - kissing right above your navel, and all over your pooch. His hands slid up the skirt you were wearing and you momentarily thanked god in your head that you decided against pants today. His fingertips reached the lace of your panties, and he pressed his thumb against your clit through your panties. 

“Fuck- just like that, yeah.” You whined.

“So wet, shit-, this all for me?” He inquired

“Yes-, all for you Jack, just you.” You cried out as he continued to rub you through the thin material.

“Fuck Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me..” he groaned out, as he rutted his hips against the mattress, desperate for a little relief.

His fingers tucked into the waistband of your panties, and he looked at you to see if you had a change of heart. You smiled at him.

“Please Jack, make me feel good.” You bit your lip, pleading for him to make a move.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Jack pulled your panties from your pussy, a string of arousal connecting between the two before it broke as he threw the black thong to the side.

Without warning, Jack dipped his head between your legs and began to eat you out.

“Fuck! Oh my god- yesyesyes-“ you cried out as he demolished your sweet pussy. His nose pressed on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, rubbing against you as he pulled at your hips to nuzzle his face closer against your cunt.

“God you taste phenomenal, of course you fuckin’ do.” He laughed before taking your hands in his intertwining your fingers as he dove back into your pussy, face first.

Jack alternated between licking and tongue fucking you, and sucking and kissing your clit, driving you crazy at how fucking good he was at this.

You felt your core tighten, your release close. “G-gonna cum Jack, fuck don’t stop-“ you moaned, your hands squeezing his as you rutted your hips against his face. Jack let go of your hands and settled them on your hips with a firm grip. He groaned and the vibration from his throat sent you over the edge.

“Oh, shitshitshit, ah!” You cried out, your hands in his hair now, pulling on his curls as you rode your orgasm out. Jack kept sucking on your clit, overstimulating you until you pushed at his head.

You laid back in the sheets, sweat gleaming on your skin as a few strands of hair stuck to your forehead; and Jack was mesmerized at the sight. He couldn’t picture anything else more beautiful than your blissed out face- eyes screwed shut, lips puffy from your precious make-out sesh, and your skin gleaming so beautifully from the orgasm he just caused you to have.

He crawled up next to you as you recovered from your intense orgasm, kissing your lips a few times before planting a kiss on your forehead and bringing you into his arms.

“Fuck, you’re really good at that.” You finally broke the silence. Jack let out a hearty laugh as he pulled you closer to him.

“Thanks. I’ve been meaning to practice some more though be a little more selfless, ya know?” He joked.

“Well, anytime you’re in the spirit of giving again, don’t be afraid to hit my line.” You laughed into his neck.

“Trust me baby, you’ll be the first and only person I call.” He chuckled, bringing you into another sweet kiss.

——————————————————

Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @watercolorskyy @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @jackharlows-world @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @dessmxsworld @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @thysagclub @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun @jackharloww

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 6

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out.  Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.

Thank you all again and again for taking the time to read the stories I put out.

***

Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing, your head is a little fuzzy but not nearly as bad as you’d experienced. Opening your eyes you flip the phone over to see it’s nearly twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Blinking a few times you make yourself sit up in bed flipping your phone on to see a deluge of text messages. Groaning you turn your phone off and stretch. Before any messages were answered you need coffee and maybe a shower. 

Showered and suitably caffeinated you finally flip open the text messages. 

Trevor: 

9 am: So what happened?

9:1 5:Hello?

9:30: Look do I need to call the police?

10:30: It’s been hours….

10:32: You never texted me when you got home

11:01: Okay it’s after eleven. You never sleep in. 

12:45: I am coming over in thirty minutes if I don’t hear from you. 

You reply:

I am fine, I just got home super late. I hope you’re not coming over

Trevor:

You scared me! 

Why didn’t you text me back?

How late were you out

Wait did you go back to his place?????

You groan squeezing your eyes close and drinking a healthy swig of coffee.

You: 

We went for sushi, then went down to the beach. 

Trevor:

That’s all you're giving me! What kinda 1950s dating scene is this?

You chuckle replying:

We stayed at the beach until 3 am. 

Trevor: Wait did you have sex on the beach

You:

TREVOR! 

Trevor:

It’s an important question. Don’t want to find out on the gossip train.

You:

why can’t I have nice things TREVOR. No there was no sex in PUBLIC, we kissed and held hands. Can I not do that????

Trevor: Are you secretly asexual? There is nothing wrong with that. I think it’s romantic. 

You:

I am going to become asexual if it means you stop asking me these questions. 

You could almost hear him laughing at you. 

Trevor:

You like it! 

You snorted and switched messages.

Walton: 

10 am: Hey beautiful, wanted to check in. See how you’re doing this morning. 

11 am: I was wondering about maybe going out to bar a city over next Friday? 

11:10 am: Promise I am not trying to kidnap you.

12:20 pm:  Thought you never slept in?

You:

Hey handsome, sorry I actually slept in. Kept me out past my bedtime.

I would love to go out with you next Friday, fingers crossed they don’t keep us late

You set your phone down, pondering if you still trusted the milk in the fridge to make pancakes. Getting up you get a refill of coffee, phone buzzing. 

Walton: 

If they do we can always go out saturday? Can’t be keeping you up so late. Got make sure you can keep up with this old man. 

You:

Oh I am sure I can keep up with you 😉

Walton:

Careful little lady, I might have to come by and test that theory.

Your face goes bright red and that heat coils low in your belly. 

You: Promises, promises, 

Walton:

If I didn’t have a zoom meeting in ten minutes 😠

You:

Maybe next Friday. 

You’re not sure why you’ve become a tease, but you’re enjoying winding him up. 

Walton:

Monday will be more like it.

You:

😜 Your trailer or mine.

Walton: 

Yours just so Trevor will stop texting me.

You let out a laugh, seemed like Trevor was also enjoying winding him up. You spend the rest of the day chatting with both of them. Sunday is a bit quieter, more zoom calls for Walt and Trevor had gone to Decon’s. 

*** Monday goes by in a blur, Walton keeps his hands to himself when others are around. But it doesn’t stop him from following you behind the food tent to steal kisses. You are now sporting a permanent flush and some of your co-workers are raising eyebrows. You are ever grateful that Trevor has kept his mouth shut. Liz is as pissy as ever but seems to be letting it lay. Katie has slowly warmed up to you again, why you weren’t sure. 

The rest of the week is pretty similar. Early mornings bleed into later evenings, the endless weeks have worn on you. Then Walton slides into your chair with his latest story and you feel like a weight is lifted off of you. The man once more touches you gently and gives you lingering cheek kisses as he goes over to set or costumes.   

Friday night rolls around and it’s going to be a long one. You fiddle with a few of your brushes when the door opens quickly. 

“We are being released. There was a fire on stage, and it looks like we are out at least until Monday,” Liz rolls in looking flustered, her normal perfect facade gone. She looks haggard and frazzled. 

“There was a fire on set?” You ask sitting up and feeling much more awake. Panic shoots down the back of your neck.

“Yep, green sparky left a light on too close to set.” Liz sat in the chair grabbing cleaner. You had stayed in the trailer to start tucking things away as Walton was off-screen for the first three setups. You are out the door before she has time to say more. You stop at costumes knocking at the door. 

Rebeccas opens it and looks down at you, she looks flustered but still has a smile on. “Hey, I am guessing you heard about the fire?”

“Yes, I did,” You say trying not to sound panicked, even though your mind is racing. The thought of him being hurt makes you nauseous. “Umm -is.”

Rebecca looks into the trailer, “Walt. You almost done in there?” There is a bunch of commotion going on in the trailer, with people moving back and forth, and different actors in various stages of undress.

You looked at her puzzled at how she knew you were looking for him. 

Rebecca turns back to you, “He never shuts up about you, so figured that’s why you are here,” She replies, and you immediately feel flustered, clearly rumors are moving again. 

“Oh- umm- Yeah. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Walton pops his head above Rebecca his fingers nimbly button up his shirt. “Be right out.”

You blush and look away, “Sorry, I should probably go.”

Rebeca waved her hand at you, “Your secret is safe with me,” she winked. You wonder not for the first time if you were the only one who was never included in the rumor mill. 

Walton pops down the stairs, and has on grey button-up sleeves rolled up, navy wash jeans. He tilts his head when he looks at you. You let out a sigh seeing him unscathed. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand touching your shoulder. You nod your head, turning to walk back towards the makeup trailer. You really don’t want to make a scene right now, there were way too many eyes on you both right now. 

“I know I said we should go to the bar tonight,” Walton says, his fingers brushing against yours. You try not to grab his hands, just to know he is still there. “But maybe we should get take out at my place?”

You get to the trailer, unable to stop looking around. He looks right at you, the way he could focus on you was both flattering and unnerving. Especially as you are trying to keep things under wraps. 

“Have to stop and grab a few things first.” You say trying to keep your voice from carrying. “Have you pick me up again?”

He smiles, “I would pick you up any day.”

You are bright red, as you open the door and follow the man into the trailer. 

***

A large paper bag of Chinese food was acquired, along with a couple of bottles of wine. You both devest at the door, slipping off your shoes, and placing the wine on the counter. You watch him move around the kitchen. Practice ease, you watch his muscles move under his shirt. You were tired as anything but being in his kitchen, waiting to eat greasy Chinese food couldn’t have been more perfect. 

You grab plates from him, laying out the smorgasbord board of different food. The two of you scooped a little of everything, before sitting down at the table and pouring some wine. 

“I feel like I should apologize for having you over instead of going out somewhere,” Walton says taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage of you being here.”

You chuckle, “Don’t know what you mean Mr. Goggins. I thought you invited me to your place to play some chess and listen to swing jazz.”

Walton nearly loses his food at the comment, his hand covering his mouth. “Swing jazz? How old do you think I am?”

“Oh you got to be at least in your seventies,” You tease back taking a bite out of your spring roll. 

Walton coughs, “I didn’t realize you where into grandfathers.”

You choke a little, “Well to be fair,” You wave your hand, “I am usually good with trying anything once.” 

Walton sips on his wine eyebrows raised, “Anything?”

You nod your head, a smile spreading across your face. “Can’t say I don’t like it unless I try it.”

He puts his glass down, watching you carefully as you finish your cup. “I could make some coffee while we clean up.”

You grab his plate stacking it with your own as he grabs the glasses. You two make it over to the kitchen, there is tension in the air as you clean things up. He grabs a French press out of the cupboards aswell as some coffee and cups.

You slide over to the counter and sit on top of it. Feet kicking back and forth as you watch the man ready things.  Flicking the kettle on to heat the water. He comes over and moves himself in between your legs.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He whispers, placing hands on either side of your hips. Face inches from you.

You wrap your hands lazily over his shoulders, opening your legs to let him in closer. 

“No, you haven't today.” You lean in to kiss him, kissing him will never get old.

“You are stunning.” He whispers against your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. The kettle clicks and he's moving away from you. You watch him pour grinds and then water into the press. 

“Why did you wait so long to ask?” You inquire, moving your feet back and forth. Letting yourself briefly wonder if maybe the question was too forward.  

He turned to look at you, bottom lip caught in his teeth. “Umm-”  

Leaving the coffee he came over to you. Cheeks slightly pink, he tucked his hair behind his ear. 

“I - ahh. I didn't think you'd want to go out with me.” 

Your mouth falls open, “Are you serious?”

He shrugs, fingers fiddling with the outer seam of your jeans. You take his hand in yours using the moment to drag him back between your legs. Once he is there, you tip Walton’s head up to look right at you.

“You're so dumb,” You grin leaning in to kiss him. He chuckles and leans into the kiss, strong arms wrapping around you. “I am also dumb, 'cause I thought the same thing about you.”

Walton pulls back looking at you, eyebrows scrunched. “Didn't you just call me dumb? Seems like we both may have missed the sign somewhere along the way.”

You grin one hand finding its way to rub along his jawline. “Took us long enough.”

He smiled, “Trevor is never going to let us live this down.”

You let out a groan, “He is beyond impossible. I am gonna have a small textbook of text messages.”

Walton’s eyes glint, and he pulls his phone out. “Why don't we give him an update.”

You can't help but laugh, “Oh absolutely!” 

Walton flips his phone on turning on the camera he flips it to the two of you. You lean in and kiss him deeply as he clicks the button. The phone is placed on the counter as you wrap your legs around his waist. You pull out a deep moan that rumbles out of his chest when you bite at his bottom lip. It doesn't stop you from pushing your tongue in. Rocking your hips a little, the room feels hot. 

Walton pulls away, breathless, “If you keep doing that, I am liable to forget about our coffee.”

You let out a sigh, “I suppose a little coffee couldn't won't hurt.” You unwrap yourself from him. 

He moves down the counter as you slide off it. He mixes your coffee just the way you like it, handing you the cup as he fixes his own. You wait, watching him work, he turns and gestures toward the living room. You make your way over to the couch.  

Folding yourself up on the end of the sofa, tucking one leg underneath the other. You sip on the coffee, it is delicious and beats any store bought. Walton comes over and sits beside you, taking a long sip of his drink. Looking out the windows you can see part of downtown and the north shore. The lights still dazzling, as the evening wore on. 

“I know, before, I said I wasn’t sure you would want to go out with me,” He said looking out at the window as he spoke. “I tried, unsuccessfully to give you space. But the further I got away the more I missed being near you. Then when we went out for sushi, it all just kinda clicked. This isn’t conventional.” He gestures between the two of you. You hold your cup listening intently. 

“I am, ahh, older than you. And my life is not exactly straightforward. I don’t take relationships lightly, not that this is that. Or.” You can’t suppress the smile as he tries to explain himself. “I am terrible at this. I don’t want to move too fast, but also. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

You put your cup down, and gesture for him to come closer. He places his cup down beside yours and moves over. Patting your lap, he slips down and lays his head on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, his eyes close and he hums softly against your legs. 

“I can’t tell you what's going to happen,” You say softly, “I am also not good at this, but I am willing to try. However fast or slow you want to go. As for the age thing, I don’t care, it’s never bothered me.” 

Walton’s breath slows and his hand slips under your thigh holding you close. You sit there a while longer, letting him just relax against you. Again you are struck by how simple it is, to just sit here with a warm cup of coffee and the city lights. You could get used to weekends like this. But as always he is moving sitting up and smoothing out his hair, grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip. 

“Would you like to come to bed with me?” He asks, you turn away from the lights. His eyes fixed on you, not hungry but curious. 

“I would like that a lot,” You say licking your lips and heart pounding in your chest. 

Walton stands up offering you a hand, which you take, pulling yourself to your feet. The coffee is left on the table as you follow him. Fingers laced together like they are two puzzle pieces. You pass by the guest room and there is a door at the end of the hallway. He opens it and you walk into the large room. There are floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea, a large king-sized bed on a wooden platform. The room is sparse, with two side tables with lamps. A large walk-in closet to your left along with a bathroom beside it. You wonder for a moment how often he has brought others back here. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you wander over to sit on the edge of the bed. Walton has disappeared into the bathroom.

“I think I have another toothbrush in here,” He calls out, poking his head around the corner. 

You smile and move towards him, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He’s blushing again and handing you the unopened toothbrush, “I–I umm. Just figure I’d offer.” 

You move into the bathroom grabbing some toothpaste off the counter and leaning against it, “I appreciate it, besides don’t want to have coffee breath. Would you happen to have makeup wipes?”

Walton thinks for a moment before he scoots you out of the way, as you brush your teeth. He pops up with a bottle of cleanser and a fresh hand towel. “I knew I had it here somewhere.”

You grin and thank him, he brushes his teeth before disappearing again. You take the moment to clean off your face and neck. Looking into the mirror you got a permanent smile on your face. Letting out a happy sigh you finish up, telling yourself not to put the cart in front of the horses. You walk out and Walton is standing there shirtless, blinds drawn. He slips into a grey cotton t-shirt, that you currently hate, and black sweatpants. Sensing you staring he turns around to see you. 

Chapter seven

*tiny cliffhanger. I always need at least one 😜*

*As always if you'd like to be tagged let me know! *

*reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated! *

[captaincherrie]

Back in Chicago

Pairings: Lewis Nixon x f!reader

Summary: Lewis and reader have some unresolved feelings? Very loosely inspired by this song.

warnings: uncertainty, fluff, cuteness? It’s late, this isn’t proof read or anything!!!

Disclaimer: any writing of Band of Brothers is strictly based of their fictional representation in the show. No disrespect to the true hero's.

Authors note: so this came to me suddenly, had to write it. Again fighting for my life with the style of this, trying to figure it out. This is definitely not my best, but overcoming writers block by writing small things As always, let me know what you think, enjoy (and my requests are open)

-

He looked right at her. Eyes scanning her face, trying to convey the message he wasn’t allowed to say yet. They had met in Belgium, in the midst of hell. Her hands trying to work magic, while attempting to soothe the pain that lingered around. But now, comfortable in Germany while looking over the beautiful landscape, Lewis felt sober for the first time in a long time.

They had spent the afternoon together near the lake, each their own book, in their own little world

“Where will you go now- once the war is over?” He asked hesitantly, breaking the comfortable silence. The war was over, he just wasn’t allowed to say it yet.

Y/n smiled at him, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes. She looked radiant, he realized, like a thousand shimmering suns laughing right at him. 

“I’ll go back home to Chicago, Nix. Maybe work at the hospital there, maybe find someone who takes me dancing and reads to me in the park. Have a dog and some babies eventually. You know, finally start a life. ” She winked. 

He nodded at her words, breaking his gaze away from her. His hands fidgeted with the corner of the page he was reading. They had gone dancing the night before, the memories coming right back. They had been so close, her perfume dazing his senses and her soft curls tickling his neck.

“Sounds nice enough. You deserve it, Y/n.” He sighed, bringing his eyes back to the words in front of him. Pushing down the feeling that was screaming at him.

After a few moments, Y/n spoke up again, “What about you, Lewis?”

“What about me?” He looked at her.

She closed her book, connecting their eyes, “What do you deserve?”

He looked down, lowering his head slightly. “I will figure it out, I guess.” He answered.

She sighed, stood up and took her book. Taking a few steps back, she turned around to face him once more. “I know exactly what you deserve, Lewis Nixon. But I’ll give you time. Once you figure it out, will you come visit me? In Chicago I mean?” She smiled. 

Not bothering to hear his answer, she walked away grinning while shooting him one last wink. He watched her go, a small sparkle of hope tingling in his stomach. 

He looked after her with reddened cheeks, blinking slowly. Did he hear her correctly? He had just been served a divorce letter. Everything, including his dog, has been taken away from him. Was she seriously offering him a new chance on a silver platter? 

-

4 months later, back in Chicago.

They had sent a few letters back and forth. Small updates of their lives shared, but nothing more. He hadn’t responded to her last letter, which was a few weeks ago. Multiple things had crossed her mind, maybe the divorce hadn’t gone through, maybe he decided he didn’t want her? Had she been too vague or maybe too forward? He has always been such a smart man, he must have gotten the clue. He was an intelligence officer after all.

. 

A knock on the door broke her train of thoughts. Shaking the feeling, Y/n made her way to the front of the house. Her friend Betty had promised to come pick her up so they could go out in the evening.

Stopping in the hallway, she took a moment to put on her heels and look one last time in the mirror. Reapplying her lipstick, she heard a second set of knocks. Grinning to herself, she yelled, “Yes Betty, I’m coming! Christ, you’re impatient.”

Turning the knob, she opened the door. 

“Hi.”

Her face fell. “You’re not Betty,” she whispered. 

Lewis looked at her, she looked more rested, a healthy blush sitting on the apples of her cheeks. She looked beautiful. 

“No, but I was hoping you’d go dancing with me instead?” He asked with a small smirk on his face.

Y/n blinked once, then quickly overcame her shock. Jumping up, she brought her arms around his neck, she crossed her legs around his waist. The movement caused him to stumble slightly, trying to hold on to her as best as possible as he found his footing again. He brought his head to the crook of her neck, a genuine smile overtaking him as he smelled the same perfume as that last day together. He held her up for a few minutes, before slowly lowering her to the ground again.

“You came! I- I thought-” She beamed.

He grinned while answering, “How could I not? Had to come find my girl, right?” 

Her lips parted slightly as her brows furrowed, “your girl?”

“Yes, Y/n. I heard what you said all those months ago, and I have been going over it. Again, and again, and again.” He scanned her face.

Cupping her chin, he looked into her eyes again, “If you let me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. I will give you whatever you want. Whatever it takes to feel the way you make me feel all the time.” He confessed. 

At this point she was blushing furiously, “Lewis Nixon, have you been drinking again?”

“No, sweetheart, stone cold sober.” He chuckled.

Y/n looked at him, trying to find something on his face that indicated he was joking. When she couldn't find anything, she locked their eyes again, “Then kiss me, you fool. I’ve waited long enough”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[silentglassbreak]

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Please don’t hate me…but it’s gonna get worse. 😬

Warnings: Nothing crazy, just a lot of wanting to rip your own hair out.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86

Part 3 - Drowning

One thing I’ve always prided myself on, is my innate ability to avoid an issue as long as humanly possible. Maybe that’s not a good thing? Maybe it’s just delaying an inevitable issue? That being said, in this particular situation, my problem was a person, and her name was Rachel.

So, naturally, I was avoiding her like the mother fucking plague.

I’m only a human, and a man, at that. I am not blind, I see the issue at hand. I’m attracted to her. And that’s a fucking problem. I could go down the list of reasons why that is a problem, and I have, hundreds of times, over the last three days. However, I decided very quickly after our last encounter that the best possible option was to keep a wide enough distance, not be obvious about it, and survive until I made it back to California and in the arms of the only person I know can make the problem disappear.

I had this plan, and although, with all of my certainty, I knew that it’s not the best one, to see Mileena after the show in San Diego, and have some very serious PDA in front of everyone.

Now, that wasn’t out of the norm for Leena and I, as it was pretty clear to everyone that we were wild for each other. So badly that the other members of our group were sometimes uncomfortable by it.

Then, once I had Mileena to myself, before I allowed anything fun to happen, I would tell her.

I would tell her about Rachel; my giving her a ride home, her answering the door nearly naked, inviting me in to her room.

Might leave out the part where I jerked off to her face, and body, and black boy shorts that barely covered her.

That was what I would take to my grave.

So, imagine my chagrin when Rachel spent the three days following the excursion trying to fucking corner me.

It started with a text I woke up to.

Rachel: Noah…can we talk?

Absolutely not.

The next text came once we were on the bus, and I was safely locked into my bunk.

Rachel: Are you asleep?

Yup.

Then, once we made it to the venue in Atlantic City, and were finishing up the M&G, the next one came.

Rachel: Noah, I really need to talk to you before the show. It’s important.

I sent Nick to go find her, to see if it was a tech issue. I hardly felt like I could handle that again, with all of this other nonsense swirling around in my head. It wasn’t, and she asked where I was.

Nick, none the wiser, sent her to the green room. When I saw the door open, a flash of blonde hair behind it, I slipped into the bathroom.

I heard her sigh heavily, and then the next text came in. This one gave me pause.

Rachel: Well, clearly you’re avoiding me, so I guess I’ll just text you. I just wanted to tell you that I am so fucking sorry. I wish I could say I don’t know what came over me, but I do. Alcohol and absolute insanity. Noah, please believe me when I tell you that I know you are in a relationship, and respect the hell out of that. What happened last night will never happen again. I just don’t want this to ruin our friendship or work relationship. Hopefully this text makes you open to talking after the show.

By this time, I had long since turned my read receipts off, and just stared at the message.

I almost replied. Almost. But, my sane mind taking over, slipped my phone back into my pocket instead.

We didn’t stay at a hotel. Rather, we showered at the venue, and were back on the road within two hours after the show had ended. We had an painfully long drive back to San Diego, so we had to get moving fast.

I laid in my bunk, headphones blasting Sleep Token’s latest album, and was feverishly texting Leena.

I had hoped she hadn’t picked up on my extra-neediness since the night prior, and just chalked it up to me being homesick.

Leena: Addie is walking more. She took twelve straight steps today without falling down!

Me: Oh FUCK YEAH. My little fucking rockstar!

Leena: She misses you so much.

Me: I miss her too. I miss you both more than life itself. But after SD, I’m done touring for at least six months. Probably will never tour again so I don’t miss you guys so much.

Leena: Oh you’re so cute when you lie.

I couldn’t tell if the text was cold or not?

Me: I’m serious. I can’t do this shit without you guys. I’m missing so many of Addie’s milestones.

Leena: We’ll see baby. And I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got to get some sleep. I love you, Noah.

Me: I love you more, Leena.

Leena: Promise?

Me: Always.

I had been catching up on the newest season of Stranger Things when I noticed the bus was quiet. I checked the time and saw it was nearly 3AM. I heard and felt no movement about the hallway, so I carefully slid my bunk door open, and hopped out. I was dying for some water and had to pee something fierce.

I froze coming to the end of the hall, noticing a blue light emitting from the couch in the front. I realized quickly it was Folio, and took a relieving breath. I approached him, but he didn’t acknowledge me.

“Hey, late night?” He was staring at his laptop screen, clicking away at the keys.

“Mmm.” Was the only response I received.

I decided disturbing him was probably not the best idea, so I slipped into the bathroom silently. When I stepped back into the hall, he was no longer seated, and was standing at the fridge with the door open.

“I think Nick ate my fucking lunchable.”

I snorted, reaching in next to him for a water bottle. “Probably.”

I cracked the cap and took a long pull. Folio eventually closed the door with a huff, and looked directly at me.

“So,” His eyes were oddly serious, not something I see much in Nick Folio. I raised an eyebrow.

“So?”

“Are you and Rachel just not speaking anymore, or…?”

I felt my heart drop down into my feet, my stomach simultaneously wrapping in a tight knot.

“What do you mean?” I kept myself cool.

“Well, she’s been asking for you, and we keep sending her your way, but she somehow never seems to find you?” His voice had a deadly evenness to it that made my skin crawl. Unless he lived in my brain, what the fuck could he possibly know?

“Well, it was a busy day.” I took another swig of my water to hopefully hide my uneasiness.

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? I guess.”

I nodded, hoping that was the end of it. Until he spoke again.

“You guys seemed friendly at the club the other night.”

That was it. Put a bullet between my fucking eyes.

Despite all of my efforts to hide the absolute terror I felt, I knew instantly that it was showing through. He raised his brows in response.

I tried to answer, but choked a little on the residual water in my mouth. I cleared my throat and closed the bottle.

“I just gave her a ride, dude.”

Nick eyed me from head to toe, not buying it.

“Yeah? Cause she seemed real sure about what was going to go down that night. Then you disappeared for an hour.”

My eyes blasted open. “What did you just say?”

Folio tossed his hands up in defense to my sharp tone. “Listen man, I’m no snitch. Not saying I’m going to go crying to Leena about it, but you may not want to shit where you sleep - you get me?”

My jaw had hit the floor, broken through the bottom of the bus, and was tearing along the Indiana asphalt beneath us,

“Folio, you’ve fucking lost it, dude!” He shook his head in amusement, clearly not believing me. “Nothing fucking happened with Rachel! I gave her a fucking ride. That’s it!”

My voice rose, so I instantly brought it back down, not wanting to alert the six other people sleeping.

He nodded then, his body language changing slightly. “Yeah?” He put his hand out to me, fist pushed forward. “On God?”

I bumped his fist. “On God, Buddha, Odin, or whatever other deity. Nothing fucking happened.”

He sighed. “Okay. I believe you dude.” I sighed in relief. “But Noah?” I glanced back up at his face. “If you’re telling the truth, then you should know, she said some pretty graphic shit about you at the bar. Claiming she had you wrapped around her finger, and she could get you into bed. Even with Mileena in the picture.” He glanced knowingly down the bus hallway.

“Watch out for that, dude. I thought Rachel was cool. I might’ve even had a thing for her. But hearing the way she talked about you? Something ain’t right.”

-

The salty, warm air of San Diego wrapped its arms around us as we stepped off of the bus at the hotel. It was refreshing, being so close to the finish line. Aside from my own bout of homesickness, I could see the guys were exhausted, and we were all ready for the post-tour coma, and being in the comfort of our own homes.

The hotel check-in process was tedious. Rachel stood at the counter, handing out keys as the attendant handed them to her.

“Nick.” He snatched his and walked back over to where I stood, waiting. “Folio.”

He took his card without looking at her. Something told me he was a little more than salty about this entire debacle.

“Jolly.” Only one left. “And, Noah.”

When my fingers took the key, her head whipped over and her eyes pierced up at me. I averted my gaze, plucking the card out of her hand, and intended to head to my room immediately.

“Hey! Who let these misfits in here?!”

Everyone’s heads whipped around, looking for the source of the voice. Her eyes were the first thing I caught, a day-breaking smile tearing across my face.

Mileena and Laura were walking through the lobby, waving at us. As soon as Mileena saw me, she broke out in a run. She always did when we were away for so long. It was one of her hopeless romantic traits that I indulged in at every opportunity.

I immediately unshouldered my backpack and began jogging toward her. Her body slammed into mine with only a force she could accomplish. My arms instinctively wrapped around her, securing her right into place against my chest.

I immediately got a face full of her midnight black hair, the scent invading my senses. She smelled like rose hips, fresh brewed coffee, Addison, and home. An overwhelming sense of ease washed over my skin.

Jesus fucking Christ, I love this girl.

She pulled herself back far enough to press her face against mine, her lips mashing mine in a frantic attempt to get as close as possible. My own fought back, nipping her bottom lip, before hers turned up into a smile.

“Thank fuck. I have been dying.” I croaked out.

Setting her feet on the ground, her arms snaked around my midsection, between the lapels of my jacket, burying the side of her face into my chest.

“Not as bad as I have.” Her words were a mumble.

“Look, we get it. You love each other. All star-crossed and shit.” We turned to look at Folio, who was smirking. “But do the rest of us get any love?”

She pulled away from me then, quickly wrapping Folio in an airtight hug. “Ah, I missed you too, punk.”

He chuckled at her and let her go. She made her rounds, even giving Rachel a one-armed embrace, which is when I noticed the look of humiliation on her freckled-face. Standing against Leena, my brain seemed to snap right back into place.

There was no contest. Mileena was stunning. Drop fucking dead mouthwatering. Rachel was…not.

After she made her way back over to me, I slung an arm easily over her shoulders, pulling her close enough to press a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“I thought you guys weren’t coming until tonight?” Nick was standing questionably close to Laura, which caught my eye immediately.

The latter shrugged, and pointed to Leena. “She showed up at my house at 9AM, insisting we leave sooner.”

“Best decision, honestly.” Was all I added.

We all began our trek toward the elevators, stepping in together. My room was on the second floor, so Leena and I stood at the front.

“Guys, I, uh, get you haven’t seen each other in three months, but,” Jolly’s voice was awkward. “we’ve only got like an hour until we have to head to the venue for sound check.”

The doors opened, and I nodded to my friend, acknowledging him. I then turned my head back to my girl, now standing outside the elevator, and flashed her a devilish grin.

“You better fucking run.”

-

Mileena has this way of moaning, and I can’t exactly describe how this is even possible, that sends a legitimate shiver up my spine. It’s chemical, the way her voice raises pitch and cracks at the end. How sometimes it’s my name rolling off her tongue, or just an incomprehensible noise, that makes me coil up and breath ragged. She has me by my fucking hair, and shows no signs of letting up.

Her eyes are always so wet, pleasure-soaked tears spilling down her cheeks, when she’s looking up at me whenever I’m burying myself inside of her.

She looks at me, not like she loves me, but like she knows me. Like she needs me. Like I’m the entire fucking universe and she is just spinning helplessly in some uneven orbit. It’s fucking unbelievable.

So when I finally reach my end, and am collapsed on top of her, fighting for air, I’m also peppering soft, affectionate kisses on her neck while she giggles tiredly.

“You’ve been so warm and fuzzy lately. I’m into it.”

I snicker into her skin, blowing warm air across her throat. “Can you blame me? I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

She sat up slowly, pulling herself away from me.

“And I, you, my love.” She stood off the bed, eyes searching the floor for her panties. “It just kind of came on suddenly. You sure you’re okay?”

She was concerned, which caused a lead brick to form in my gut. It’s guilt. I feel guilty.

“I mean, I’m fine.” I tried to waive a nonchalant hand to brush it off, but she still quirked her eyebrow the way she does, telling me I’m not getting away that easy.

“Yeah? Not very convincing there, Sebastian.” Her tone is playful, but there’s something under it.

“Just been a weird couple of days.”

She was pulling her leggings on. “How so?”

She was still so casual, but I know Mileena. She needed to know.

“Well-“ But before I could continue, there was a a loud banging on the door.

I fully expected to hear Jolly, or Nick, but instead, Rachel’s high-pitched whine came through the door.

“We’re leaving in 5 minutes, Noah! With or without you!”

I saw the face Leena made in response to the thick attitude laced in Rachel’s voice. “Damn, I wonder what’s got her so crabby?”

I sighed, and turned my back toward her while searching for my shirt. “Who knows.”

Soundcheck took way too long today, having to continuously stop for minute inconveniences. One of the laptops crashed, so we were at a complete standstill for about fifteen minutes. In that time, Nick and I decided to take a second look at the set list, trying to switch things up.

“Guys?” We both looked up to see her, galloping toward us, a stressed look on her face. Rachel was wearing a low-cut tee today, with black cargo pants and army boots.

“Listen, this computer is giving us a hell of a time, and I just don’t trust it. Would one of you run out to the bus and grab the backup?”

Nick stood up straight and gave a military salute, before jogging off the stage toward the side door. I chuckled and shook my head, looking back down at the clipboard in my hand.

“Changing it up tonight?”

I scanned the paper over and over, not looking up at her. “Thinking about it.”

“Why not play a song you haven’t played in a while?”

I looked up at her. “Like what?”

She pursed her lips, thinking. “Worst in Me?”

I shook my head. “Song blows live. Plus, we haven’t performed it in years. I doubt any of us even remember how.”

“Well, you pulled off The Fountain a while back.”

The sharpness of her tone struck a cord, so I dropped the clipboard on the amp I sat on, and stood up.

“We did.” I stood tall. I felt challenged.

“So why not play something else from that album?”

Her eyes had something in them. It almost looked like malice.

“Because we only played that song for a very specific reason.”

She scoffed. I almost couldn’t believe I heard it, but there it was.

“For Mileena, right?”

This made me narrow my eyes. Folio was right, something is off about her.

“Yep. For Leena.” My words held no room for argument.

She nodded her head slowly, lolling her tongue around between her teeth, before turning on her heel and walking toward Nick, who had re-entered with the computer in hand.

Something in the pit of my stomach burned, in a very bad, terrifying way.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

-

The show ran relatively smoothly. Mileena and Laura stood at the rails, making it easy to come undone more while she watched. We had a good time with our set, goofing around and enjoying ourselves.

After, I made no effort to hang around the green room. I was tired, and all I could think about was Leena, in sweats, wrapped in a hotel comforter, braid in her hair, stuffing her face with a burrito while we watched Stranger Things. It sounded heavenly.

Evidently, the rest of the crew felt similarly, as everyone decided to journey back to the hotel together. It didn’t take long, a short ride over from the venue. I had opted to ride with Laura and Leena, nearly bouncing out of my seat while we talked about the show.

“The crowd was fucking awesome tonight!” I say in the middle of the backseat, leaning between the driver and passenger’s seats, my arm draped over to hold Leena’s hand.

“It’s because we were there.” Laura was confident in her statement, which made Leena and I crack up.

“Oh definitely. You screaming ‘Fuck it up Folio’ really got’em going Lo.”

The ride was easy, and even fun. It helped me ignore the growing anxiety in my stomach.

I had been trying to push it back to the depths of my brain, the conversation. I knew it had to happen, but I couldn’t decide when. Originally, I had planned to tell her when we got back to the hotel; rip the bandage off, so to speak.

My selfishness wanted to wait, have a nice, relaxing night with her before we got home, and I gave her the full rundown.

The scariest part of it all? I had not a clue how she would react.

Mileena was anything but the jealous type. She had watched meet and greets with girls hugging me way too long, interviews where the host flirted with me, concerts where I was literally grabbed by women. It never fazed her. She never let a slip of the eyes, or a twitch of the lips. She always just smiled and told me I was a rockstar. It’s normal.

So she would understand this, right?

Waiting in the elevator was painful. The bus had beat us back to the hotel, and we all ended up, once again, together rising through the hotel. I felt my chest release the breath I had been holding once the door opened. I took Mileena's hand in mine, walking us down the hallway, and headed into our room.

She made herself comfortable, kicking off her Converse near the side of the bed, and flopping down on the blankets.

"Ugh, I'm so tired."

I snorted, pulling my shirt over my head. "Oh, yes. I know you must be so wiped from standing."

She tossed a pillow at me, that I caught and tossed back at her, laughing in the process.

"Listen here, buddy, I've been at home with that demon baby you made, for months!"

I feigned shock, grabbing my chest. "Demon baby? Nah, not my Addie."

She stood back up off of the bed, grabbing her backpack and pulling out her pajama pants.

"Oh please, she's insane, and you know it."

I shrugged. "I mean, she's highly intelligent. She can't help it."

She shook her head and shimmied out of her jeans, but paused before she put her pants on, scrunching her nose.

"Could I ask for a big favor?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Yes, Leena, I'll let you wear my sweats."

She smacked at me with her pants. "No, dork. Can I please shower first?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You want me to join you?" I smirked, sticking my tongue out of the corner of my mouth.

"No." She was abrupt, and my face fell. She let out a sheepish grin. "My period started this afternoon after you left. It's pretty horrendous. Real horror movie shit. I'd rather be alone for that."

I pressed my lips in a tight line and nodded. "Fair enough."

I personally didn't care if she was bleeding, and she knew that, but she did, at least for the first few days, and I respected that.

She tip-toed over to me, and pressed a light kiss on my cheek, smiling sweetly. "Thank you, baby!" She scurried to the bathroom and hollered before shutting the door. "Out in a few!"

I sighed, sitting on the bed, and turned the TV on, flipping to the option for the streaming networks, pulling up Netflix and getting the show ready. I then pulled the fridge door open to see it was understocked, only one water bottle left, and no sodas.

"Babe?" I called from the bed, and made my way toward the bathroom. "The mini fridge is bare. I'm going to run down to the lobby and grab stuff from the snack bar."

"Ginger ale please!" She called from the shower.

"You got it."

I slipped my shirt back on and left the room, making my way toward the lobby. The snack bar was full of food, drinks, and regular amenities.

I grabbed myself a Dr. Pepper, a ginger ale for her, a 3 Muskateers, a bag of skittles, and four water bottles. After telling the attendant to charge it to my room, I was headed back up. It wasn't until after I got off the elevator, plastic bag rustling the only sound around, did I hear the footsteps behind me. I ignored them, continuing my stride toward my room.

"Noah!"

The voice made me stop, and groan loudly. "You've got to be kidding me." I didn't even bother hiding my irritation.

I whipped around, nearly colliding with the body behind me.

"What do you want, Rachel?"

She stepped back, eyes wide. "Gosh, could you at least act like you don't hate me?"

I sighed loudly. "Your room isn't on this floor. What do you need?"

My impatience was clear, and it was meant to be.

"You're still ignoring me! You can't just pretend I don't exist. We work together."

"We're not working together right now. So, technically, yes I can." I turned to walk away, but her hand caught my arm.

"Noah, Jesus Christ!"

I was fed up, wound up, and fucking over this.

"What, Rachel?!" My voice was loud, but I didn't care. She was going to make me be mean to her, but I'd do what I had to, to get my point across.

She took a step toward me. "We never talked after the other night!"

"What the fuck is there to talk about?!"

To that, she looked offended. "Are you kidding? You're seriously going to sit here and act like the night at the club was nothing?!"

"It was nothing! Just because you dreamt up some crazed fantasy in your head about me, doesn't mean that anything that happened that night meant anything!"

She huffed, and I could see the tears welling in her eyes. I felt no sympathy.

"We had fucking fun, Noah! For once, I felt like you actually noticed me!"

My eyes had to mock something like disbelief, because she shrugged, wiping at her eyes.

"We've been working together a while now. I get anything and everything you need, always. I take care of you guys on tour. We spend every damn day together! And after all this time, you just feel nothing?!"

If my eyes were any wider, they may actually fall out of my skull.

"Are you kidding me?!" I took a step back. "That is your fucking job! That's what we fucking pay you for!"

"Oh, and the other night, when you fucking came to my room? That was just part of my job?!" She narrowed her eyes, an anger shining through. "I saw the way you looked at me, Noah. The car ride? The club?" She shrugged. "You didn't feel anything?"

I scrubbed my palm over my face. "No, Rachel! I didn't! I'm in a fucking relationship? What the fuck happened to respecting that?!"

"It's hard to respect when you're shoving it in my fucking face!"

"Shoving it in your face?! Since when does the fucking world revolve around you?!" I squeezed my eyes shut. "For fucks sake, Rachel! You've lost it, or something."

"I know you fucking thought about it, Noah. Tell me you fucking didn't."

For no good reason whatsoever, I was frozen again. Her voice, her eyes on me, she had me fucking cornered. Because if I said no, I was lying. If I said yes, I was an asshole. I wasn't sure which I preferred in that moment.

Her lips curled in a vicious smile. "You did. You wanted to come in that night. You wanted me."

She was fucking sick. Insane. Out of fucking control.

I let my voice fall flat and even. "Rachel, I'm going to warn you, you're playing a dangerous game here." I straightened my spine, standing much taller than her. "And I will remind you, I am your employer."

She shook her head. "You going to fire me for telling you I have feelings for you? After you ogled me half-naked? Yeah, that'll go over well."

My jaw dropped. What the fuck? How the fuck did I get here?

I just wanted to lay in bed, snuggle my girl, and eat fucking candy and junk food. I wanted my daughter, and my dog, and my house. I wanted to not be here. I could feel my throat closing.

"Look, I'll give you space. But, just think about it, okay?"

And with that, she turned around and made her way back down the hallway.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, stoic and frazzled, trying to urge myself to move. I was one foot in the grave if I didn't get ahead of this. I needed to talk to Nick, or Jolly, or Folio, or Sumerian, or a lawyer. I let the gears in my head slowly start again before I finally managed to turn around back toward my room.

I took a deep breath, attempting to gather myself before I slipped the card in and pushed the door open.

"Care to explain that?"

Her voice was hard, cold, concrete. She stood, hair still dripping, my Shippuden tee shirt hanging loose around her shoulders, arms crossed tightly across her body.

"I...I uh," My voice came out stuttered and choked. I didn't have the right words to form. "She...I....We...." It wasn't working. I was trying so hard, but I was stuck.

"Hurry up, Noah. You've got thirty fucking seconds."

I stood corrected. I was already in my grave.

[annab-nana]

can i get character a going “you’re not mad at me?” and character b being so baffled and not being able to fathom how character a would think they’d be mad for being sick when it’s out of their control with eddie?

i feel like eddie would be the one to think he'd make someone mad by being sick

warnings: not proofread, sick!eddie, slight miscommunication

❀ masterlist ❀

"okay, i know you aren't really up for eating anything, but you need to have at least a little bit of something with your medicine so i've got some soup simmering on the stove," you told eddie as you walked out of the kitchen and into his room, taking a seat on the edge of his bed beside him. "you want to try to eat now or later?"

your hand reached out of his head, pushing his bangs back so you could feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"i don't know," he mumbled weakly, "later maybe."

"okay," you answered, disliking the heightened warmth you felt from his skin. "you still have a fever. i can get you a damp washcloth if you want?"

he shook his head faintly. "that's okay."

"hey," you called to him, bringing your hand down from his forehead to cup his cheek. "what's up? is something else wrong?"

"it's just-" eddie let out a sigh before speaking up. "you're not mad at me?"

your eyebrows dropped down to a scrunch. "n- what? no, eddie. why would i be mad at you? have you done something for me to be mad at you for?"

"no, but you can go home, you know?" your heart dropped at his words. "you don't have to stay here with me all day."

you pulled your hand away from his face to let it rest in your lap. you must've done something wrong or maybe he was looking for an out of your relationship. all you had done was take care of him, but was it too much? was he suffocating in your care?

"i- did i do something? do you want me to leave?" eddie's eyes widened as you spoke and he remained silent when you paused for him to say something. his mouth gaped open and you spoke up before he could try to fix the situation. "alright, message heard. i'll be out of your hair."

"wait, y/n- oof," you heard eddie say behind you followed by a thud from him falling you assumed. when he found you, you had slipped on your other shoe and were reaching for your coat. "that's not what i meant. i- would you please look at me?"

he softened when your tear-lined eyes met his.

"what do you want, eddie? all i have done is be here for you and take care of you. i've laid in bed with you, made sure you had anything you ever needed, kept you fed, the list goes on and then you act like i have been an inconvenience to you. what gives?"

"i feel like i am an inconvenience to you," eddie shared honestly while his eyes found the floor.

"eddie, you could never be an inconvenience to me. i love you, you jerk, but if i've been overbearing or you just want to be left alone or something, you've got to let me know, okay?"

eddie took a couple of steps closer to you and reached for your hands. "please, never ever leave me alone."

a smile overtook your features while relief flooded your body. you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his torso. "i never ever plan to."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tag list: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast