#— ⟢ lost in empty pillow talk ⦂ ⋰ * ✧ SNAP.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part Two:Knuckle Velvet

❥MATZ x fem reader

Part One(Sunshine)

Part Three(Smoke)

➯a/n: i'm so glad people like this story, i've spent so much time on it and it's a labor of love, enjoy part two <33 if you're new here, part one is very much needed to understand what's going on and please read the warnings and take care of yourself ! if you didn't see my update, i lost the final draft of part three and now only have a paper draft so apologies that it will take a little bit to be uploaded ❤️‍🩹

✃ "Mind, body, soul, and wolf."

♫"Nothing hurts like the way you do; like the way you say "I love you." " -Knuckle Velvet, Ethel Cain♫Allure Soundtrack

✫彡wordcount: 6.9k

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BEOTCH chapter specific: not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forced soul bonding, forced marking, nobody is mentally well, yandere and possessive behavior, talk of murder, talk of drugs, bits of humor because i was going insane, smoking 🍃, sh in the form of putting joints out on skin(NOT READER, NOT DESCRIPTIVE), reckless driving(is that a warning?), reader needs a hug like honestly-

cunnilingus, nudity, heat cycle, outdoor, fingering, THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC, ALL SMUT IS CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaotic-floral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada @sunnyhokyu @calisnewworld @elysiangroundsforall

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO ˚➶ ｡˚

Something is wrong.

The warmth of your bed calls you back to sleep as you stir.

Something is wrong.

The smell of cooking pancakes wafts through the air, your stomach churns in interest.

Something is wrong.

The hand on your side is so soft it's almost fleeting.

Something is wrong.

Your eyes snap open, blurry vision landing on an unfortunately familiar set of features. Long brown hair, full lips in a seemingly perpetual line, thick letters on his neck.

You let out a scream as your body catches up with your mind, kicking Seonghwas arm and crawling back into the corner of your bed. "Sleep well? I sure hope so, Hongjoong nearly cried because you didn't get to mark him back before you passed out." His calm demeanor is the very antithesis of your state; frazzled and heart beating wildly in your ears. "I'm not too pleased with waiting either."

You go to pull the blanket over yourself again when he rips it off the bed completely. "G-go away, or else..." Your weak attempt at a threat makes the criminal grin, and he stands from his squatting position, looming over your cowering form.

"Oh you don't know how deep in you are, do you?" He purrs, crawling onto the mattress. It creaks pitifully under his weight as he moves ever closer.

He stops just short of being right in your face. "We own you. And when you stop this little tantrum, mark us back... you own us. A little thing like you, been on that blocker for God knows how long, you won't last but a few more hours until you're running to us with your tail between your legs. Hormones flooding your system, begging for your alphas...Begging for your mates." His eyes flick to your bruised shoulders, their marks peeking out of your scrubs. "Don't make us wait too long now, omega. We aren't patient men."

"Hwa!"

He leans away from you, yelling back to the voice, "what?!" His booming voice makes you jump, and take a deathly tight grip your pillow.

"Food!"

He looks back to you, and it's as if you can tell what he's thinking. You shake your head, slapping his hand away when he goes to grab your wrist. "C'mon now, you won't want an empty stomach when we mate-" He's cut off when a pillow hits his head, leaving him to let out an exasperated sigh.

Hongjoong turns around just as Seonghwa rounds the corner with your fidgeting form over his shoulder. "Hey, Dolly!" He greets casually, like this is an everyday occurrence, as he sets down the plate he's holding next to the other two on your little round table.

"Help! Help me!" You scream, gasping as you're quite literally thrown in a chair.

"No use in that," Hongjoong begins as he sits opposite of you, "no one will hear you. We cleared this place out. If they aren't dead, they're in the prison with our pack."

       Your eyes well with tears. You don't doubt his words for a second. Massacring and holding a town hostage wouldn't even be on the top three of their crimes.

      You take a shaking breath and gather yourself, glaring at the blonde silently. "Oh are you mad?" He asks teasingly. "We made ourselves comfy, hope you don't mind! Lovely little place you've got here."

You choose to stay silent, not trusting your own voice as it wavers even in your head.

"Eat up," Seonghwa pushes one of the plates to you, but Hongjoong snatches it back, eyeing you as you eye it.

It's been a full day since you've eaten, judging by the rising sun in the window. And you silently curse yourself for skipping lunch.

"Something you need to do first, Dolly." He taps his neck, a small grin playing at his lips as he notices your eyebrows push together. He wishes he could crawl into your head and see all of those thoughts that are undoubtedly suffocating you.

And they are. Your lungs feel heavy as you weigh every option against one another. You could run- but you've never outran an alpha, let alone two. You could hide- but that didn't work too well in the prison. You could simply refuse to return the bite- but the last wolf who did that was turned inside out, literally. You could simply cry and hope for their mercy- but you knew it would never come.

Your chair scratches the hardwood under it as you slowly push yourself away from the table. You notice you're missing your shoes as you trudge the few feet that feel like miles.

Hongjoongs head is eagerly turned to the untainted side, Seonghwa's mark mirrored to where you must leave yours.

You attempt to tune out the joyous howling of your wolf, tell her this is not a good thing. But she doesn't care. All she says is-

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

You wince as your canines push through your gums unannounced, lip snarling upward to give them room.

Seonghwa watches with a sadistic glint in his eye as you bend forward, tears building up in your own.

You hate to admit that Hongjoong, both of them really, smell wonderful. But your wolf sure doesn't, she only chants louder.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Your anxious breathes fan against his neck, goosebumps arising in response and anticipation.

His heart is skipping beats. You're so close that you can hear it.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

With a quick movement, your teeth are sunk into his flesh, forever bonding you.

˚➶ ｡˚

    The searing water pelts your back. Steam swirls in the air. Your cries and sniffles echo on the linoleum tile.

     After marking both alphas you didn't have much appetite but, after helping you rinse your mouth, Hongjoong had made you eat everything on your plate before he let you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in.

     Despite the pull in his gut, the urge to break down the door and comfort you, Hongjoong had forced himself to leave. He couldn't listen to your cries, even if he was the cause of them.

      That left the older alpha alone in your humble living room. He tuned his ears to focus on the rainfall, the rolling thunder, the periodic knocking of your air conditioning, anything but the sound of your sorrow.

    You don't quite find it in yourself to care who is or isn't in your home, you find yourself with a much more immediate problem.

     Seonghwa was right.

   You feel heat bubbling to life in your lower stomach, slowly consuming the ball of anxiety that resides there. Your wolf is loud. She won't shut up. Mate this, mate that, knot this, and knot that. You wish with every ounce of your being that she wouldn't be such a primal animal, but that's much like expecting a wild animal to be house trained.

     You find your tears slowly drying, washed away from your cheeks by the ever falling water.

     You hadn't had a heat in a good long while. And now you were mated to two alphas? Seonghwa was right, and you are beyond fucked. You'd never even had a partner during a heat.

     A whimper trembles past your lips without your consent, small and pathetic much like how you feel.

You go to grip the knobs, gasping as you see your claws. They look thicker than before, darker as well. You bring them to your face, turning your hand over and inspecting them. "What..."

A knock at the door startles you enough to grab the tub, new and improved nails leaving indents on the acrylic fiberglass. "(Y/n)? Don't get too hot, the steam is coming out into the hall."

"Go away!" You squeeze your eyes shut, praying Seonghwa didn't hear the sorry crack in your voice.

Your prayers, much like yesterday, go unanswered, unheard. "Are you okay in there? I know... I know the situation isn't ideal-"

"Shut up!" You growl, hand immediately slapped to your mouth in shock of your own outburst. The quiet is eating you alive, making you wish the raining water above you would somehow drown you.

"I'm coming in."

"No! Just fucking leave me alone." Your eyes are wide at the sound of your own voice once again. You, your body is curled into the corner of the tub wanting to disappear and become one with the tiles below you. You, your mouth is loud and proud with your anger.

He opens the lock with his claw, breaking your deceptive sense of privacy. The stream rises into the hall in a thick fog, obscuring his vision. He tries to look for your outline behind the shower curtain but he finds nothing. When a small sniff sounds, his eyes flick to the source. The shadow of a curled up body.

When he grab the curtain, your voice comes out quietly. "Please don't touch me."

"I won't." He speaks shortly, opening the fabric just enough to turn off the water. Immediately, with no sound to drown it out, he hears your irregular heartbeat. "I won't," he says with a voice soft with promise.

The silence drapes you both, listening closely to one another for any sign of movement or speech.

Your ears are perked up, eyes wide and wild as you watch his silhouette take a seat on the closed toilet. He seems to be watching you as well.

"You're in heat." He breaks the hush with a punch. It's not a question, more so it's an observation from his sharp senses.

"Yes." You whisper back.

"How long since you had your last one? That blocker was in there deep." His voice holds something like quiet empathy, which makes your wolf want to crawl to him even more. You try to calculate the years to give him a good estimate of how bad this will get, but your brain feels too hot in your head.

"Long," is all you can muster up.

The quiet blankets you again, the only sound the raging storm outside. A clap of thunder makes you jerk, wrapping your clawed hands around yourself for a sense of comfort.

His hand comes through the gap in the curtain, holding your large fluffy towel. You take it with an almost silent thank you, wrapping it around your shoulders as you stay seated.

He watches the steam dissipate, surveying your small bathroom. The tub and shower which currently holds you takes up the short wall. The toilet he sits on has a soft fabric covering on the lid, the short blue yarn matches the color of the walls and the striped curtain. Your medicine cabinet has small little flowers painted on it with an obviously careful hand. Your products on the counter are organized in re-used plastic containers. Your clothes are set on the edge and awaiting you.

He wonders what you'll do to their home when it becomes yours as well.

When you shuffle, he looks back to your distorted form. Slowly standing, you clear your throat. "Can you, uhm..."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he mutters as he stands, closing the door behind him.

Taking a peek around the drape, you make sure he's really gone before you step out and quickly dry yourself off, blinking away the tears that start to build again.

     With a fresh outfit on and having scrubbed off as much of them as you could, you step out of the bathroom for the first time in hours. Hongjoongs scent is weak, making you briefly wonder where he went as you tip toe around your own home.

     The door to your room is still ajar, but a glimpse inside shows no sign of the alpha who's smell is still strong. The sound of the TV draws you out to the compact living room. There, you can see the back of his head as he faces the box television, watching a rerun of Starsky and Hutchy.

     He says nothing as you sit down, and you say nothing back. He's not paying attention, and neither are you. But neither of you dare speak first.

˚➶ ｡˚

How you fell asleep, you have no idea. But the slam of the front door makes you jump awake, grabbing the nearest object which happens to be Seonghwas forearm.

He places his hand on yours wordlessly and turns to see whoever has the nerve to wake you. "Mingi?" He groans after a moment of reflection.

The strange man in your home, Mingi, is tall, taller than Seonghwa- and it makes you cower into the alpha subconsciously. He shakes the rain water out of his short pink hair in a way akin to a dog after a bath, unbothered by the glare and the wide eyes on him. "Hey!"

"What are you-"

"Joong sent me," he lifts up a duffel bag with a grin, kicking his shoes off as to not drag mud into your home and piss off his alphas mate. "Hi," he smiles more politely towards you as he slowly approaches, noticing your arms tremor.

"You forget how to knock?" Seonghwa grumbles as he stands, hand hesitantly leaving your own as he walks behind the couch to join the man.

"Well I didn't hear anything, I figured you were sleeping or something." He shrugs simply as he sits the bag on the sewing machine you use as a desk.

"We were, asshat." The brotherly bickering of the pack mates makes you smile, and you hide your lips in the cushion as you watch them carefully from you backwards seating on the couch.

     The pink haired man's attention lands on you as Seonghwa looks through the clothes in the bag. "Hi, 'm Mingi," he smiles kindly, holding his hand out to you only for it to be smacked down quickly by Seonghwa with a glare. "Uhm, rude," he rolls his eyes with a clear playfulness.

     "No touching," he huffs shortly, eyes flicking back to you. "He touches you, I cut off his fingers. I'm going to shower." He leans over the back off the couch and lifts your face out of the fabric gently, taking your lips in his possessively, leaving you flabbergasted as he leaves as quick as he came.

     Mingi whistles lowly as the bathroom door closes, chuckling at your starstruck expression. "This fuckin' guy, am I right?" He jokes, smiling awkwardly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I'm an omega too, don't worry. I know it's scary coming across new wolves when you're like us, not knowing..."

      You nod silently, eyeing him up for any sign of danger. But you only find him shivering. "You want a towel or something...?"

    "Oh, if it's not any trouble," he smiles again, the gummy nature of it reminds you of Jihyun, and you find a lot of your nerves draining away. He's an omega like you, so you have a fair chance against him. And despite everything, you doubt Seonghwa would let anyone hurt you, let alone someone from his own pack.

    You sneak by him quickly and into the closet in the hall next to the bathroom, where you can hear the water running.

     "Here you go," you hand it over before taking a seat again, turning backwards on the couch to keep an eye on him as he towels off his hair.

    Starsky and Hutch keeps the silence from being too stiff, but it's clear Mingi has a lot of words on his tongue fighting to come out as he dries his arms.

    "Do-"

    "Is-"

    "Sorry," you both mumbles as you speak over each other. You motion to the seat next to you and he takes it with a quick, "thanks."

    "So," you begin, tucking your knees under your chin, "he's your alpha?"

    "Both of them, they lead together." He nods as he speaks, looking around your home.

    "That's weird," you mumble to yourself, picking at the string on your sock, "how does that work?"

     "Well... I mean they just kind of lead us all together. Make decisions together, it's not a dictatorship actually- they let us vote on stuff sometimes, it's nice. I'm sure you'll come to understand our pack, we're just a bit... different."

    "How did, uh, I mean I've heard some stuff, I dunno-"

    "You can ask me. I know those two probably weren't very talkative."

   "Yeah," you chuckle quietly, taking a peek at him, "they made their own pack, right? How did you end up here?"

    He looks back at you and slowly relaxes in his seat, both of you growing more comfortable as your wolves sniff one another out. "Yeah, that's right. They didn't roll up on a village like this and say, 'who's the strongest, let's fight', like most alphas come to be. They found each of us and asked us to join, didn't just demand it. I was one of the first, actually. They found me stealing some food in Minnesota, told me pledge my loyalty and I'll never be cold or hungry again."

   "And?"

  "Hm?"

   "Have you been?"

    "Never," he shakes his head, "they're good alphas. Maybe not the best people, but good alphas. I'm sorry you had to join us this way... they can be a bit impulsive, impatient." His eyes are low and voice even lower, like he's trying to hide his words from the man who's most definitely listening in. "They aren't monsters, at least not the kind the news makes them out to be. They're the monsters the world shaped them into."

     You feel his wolf calling out to yours, albeit weakly. You've never felt it before. Is it because you're finally apart of a real pack? Because you're his alphas mate? Your eyes flick to your wolves and his follow suit, a pink color that matches his hair.

"Mingi." His voice breaks your small staring competition, both of you looking to him. He looks a lot different on his own clothes, and it makes your annoyingly loud wolf even louder. His forearm sleeve and neck tattoo is on show in his dark grey wifebeater, finally freed from the long sleeve orange top. The marks on his shoulders are out and proud as well. His bell bottom jeans make his long legs look even longer, like he's more than half leg. His inked up fingers work nimbly to buckle his belt. That's when you finally look away, sinful thoughts flooding your head thanks to your building heat.

"Has Hongjoong come up with a plan with the rest of you?"

     You don't register that he's come up to the couch until he's picking you up. You grab onto his shoulders and bite your lip as you yelp.

     "He says we should just sneak attack their camp, Jongho's been able to sus out their location with his-" Mingi clears his throat to stop himself as Seonghwa sends him a glare while he sits, settling you in his lap. "With some intel... says they only have two scouts at a time."

You curl up on yourself, breathing deeply- which turns out to be a grave mistake. Seonghwas sandalwood scent floods you all at once, the musky smell of the prison washed away. A wave of arousal hits you like the one in the shower, and he squeezes you closer to his chest.

"He'll tell me about it later, go on and go back to the prison and tell him come back."

"Wha-"

"Go now."

"Yup, yeah, I'm gone." Mingi jumps up, leaving the towel on the couch as he dashes to the door, disappearing with a quick, "later!"

You try to scramble away the second the door shuts, but the alpha grabs your ankle and pins you to the couch. "Please, please!" You shake your head while sniveling, quieted when he cups the back of your neck softly.

"Calm down, omega," he whispers, keeping his weight off of you, "you need us to get rid of that heat, you know that don't you?"

You nod dreadfully, burying your face in the cushion. "I don't want-"

"Tell me what you want, and that's what I will do. Nothing more. I won't force you to do anything but I won't let you suffer in your heat, do you understand?"

"Yes..."

"Do you want me to let you go?"

Despite yourself, you whisper, "no..."

"Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want, omega, and I will give it to you."

˚➶ ｡˚

By the time Hongjoong crashes through the front door clumsily, both of you are gone from the couch. A trail of torn clothes and the call of soft moans lead him to your bedroom, the door open wide to provide him a beautiful view.

You, in your bra and nearly nothing else. Legs spread around Seonghwas shoulders and socked toes curling into the bed. Your sharp teeth out and peeking through your lips as they part with a moan.

Seonghwa, kneeling and back arched as he anchors himself between your legs, forearms wrapped around your thighs. His tank top rising up to expose the ink on his lower back. Low, muffled moans rumble in his throat.

      "Started without me?" He asks smugly after he catches his breath from the overwhelming scene.

     Seonghwas head snaps back at the intruder, eyes red and jaw slick- but he goes right back to his meal, making you yip in surprise. Your eyes stay locked on his, lit aglow just like the alphas between your legs. Your chest rises and falls with bated breathes.

"Hongj-ah!" You grip the straps of Seonghwas top, eyes squeezing shut as you whine.

     Your logic and reasoning went out the window the second Seonghwas eyes turned red with lust. Now, you let your wolf get what she wants for the time being. You forgot how badly heats burn.

     Your bed dips and creaks with the additional weight as the younger alpha joins you. You feel his breath over the healing mark he left, followed by a lick which makes you gasp.

     Every touch both extinguishes the burn and makes it hotter.

    "You smell so good," Hongjoong coos into your neck, hands slowly wrapping around your waist, "will you let me have a taste too?"

      "Y-yes!" You nod eagerly, fidgeting under his light touches until a slender hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place, followed by a growl.

     "I'm not done, am I, omega? I thought you wanted to cum on my tongue? That's what you asked for, after all," Seonghwa teases as he pulls back, free hand playing with the slick between your thighs. He watches with a smirk as you nod, over and over. "Yeah?"

    "Yeah! Please, Seonghwa!" You feel a pinch in your gut as you beg for the criminal, but it's washed away with another surge of pleasure. A soft hand on your cheek makes you push your eyes open, coming face to face with Hongjoong.

     "Poor omega," he pouts as he traces your jaw, "those blockers are good for nothing, only cause problems. We'll take good care of you, don't worry. Anything you want, Doll. Anything at all."

     Your request is wordless. A pull at his belt loop with your clawed finger.

˚➶ ｡˚

You're fast asleep with your heat satisfied for the time being, sandwiched between the two alphas in your small bed. They keep quiet, enjoying the moment. They know that when you awake without your heat blurring your mind, you'll be distant again.

And they don't blame you.

Mingi was right, they're impulsive. They wanted you and they got you the second they could. They'll do whatever they can to make you realize you're meant to be their omega, their mate. They'll build the trust one step at a time, they just had to make sure you wouldn't slip away in the meantime.

Your breathes are slow and steady, deep in the hands of exhaustion. One of your legs is hooked across Hongjoongs hips, the other tangled in Seonghwas bell bottoms. Your arms are wrapped around the blondes neck, head buried in his shoulder.

Seonghwa has one arm tucked under both of your heads, fingers twirling Hongjoongs hair mindlessly as he holds a joint between his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the smoke out slowly. His pants are undone and underwear clumsily pulled back up.

      Hongjoong has his eyes closed peacefully, though he's not sleeping. He's listening intently to your heart beats, enjoying the familiar smell of his alphas smoking and the feeling of your naked body clinging to his.

       "Leave tomorrow?" Seonghwa whispers hushedly, letting the smoke in his lungs out in a puff.

     "The quicker we get home the better. We need to start making a real plan for that fuck face Greene." He snarls silently, pressing his nose into your hair in an attempt to calm himself.   

     "And make sure no one messed up while we were caged."

     "They told me Yunhos been taking care of the traffic flow, we should be good on that part. I just want to get my claws bloody."

    Seonghwa chuckles, rubbing his temple, "you know what's fucked? If that coward didn't rat us out, we wouldn't've found our mate."

      Hongjoong cracks a small smile, cradling your unconscious body close to his chest as Seonghwa stands. "Maybe I'll go easy on him then." He smirks, watching his shoulders bounce with silent laughter as he leaves the room, a trail of smoke following him.

     Seonghwa closes the bathroom door behind him, staring at his reflection. He takes the joint between his index and middle finger, leaning toward the glass.

     Hongjoong was made for this world, for his world. But were you? Had they just doomed you to a pitiful existence? Did he even care if they did?

     Peddling drugs and getting your claws bloody. He couldn't imagine you doing it. But he couldn't imagine letting you go.

     He pulls his jeans down and his boxers leg up, snuffing out the joint on his thigh.

˚➶ ｡˚

   "It ain't a crime to be good to yourself! Lick it up! Lick it up! Woooo!"

      Your body is slung to the door of the van as Hongjoong drifts around the corner, the loud rock music only rivaled by his singing of it. You grab onto the passenger seat infront of you to hold yourself steady. "Does he have to be the one to drive?" You yell to Seognhwa who's in the row of seats behind you, laid across them with a grin.

     "He likes to pretend he's driving The A Team van!" 

        The van skids to a stop infront of the prison, and you have to force yourself to look away least you think about the people who are still being held hostage inside. "C'mon up here, Doll," Hongjoong holds his hand out to you in offering, and you take it. You crawl over the cup holder in the middle and land in the passenger seat, grabbing the bag they had let you pack before dragging you away from your home.

     "Where are we going?" You ask quietly, thankful that Hongjoong had the ears to be able to hear you over his cassette.

      "Back to our stomping grounds," he hums as he hits the button to unlock the doors, letting in the approaching group of people. "Los Aranza, it's in sou-"

     "What's up fuckers?" A young man shouts over the music as he hops into the middle row, making you jump as you look back. He smiles your way kindly, uttering a softer, "hey." 

    Mingi, who throws you a small smile, is climbing in next with a buffer man who immediately gives you the chills and a woman who looks like a sore thumb in the group. 

     Mingi gets in the back with Seonghwa and the woman ends up in the middle seat between the two other men despite her complaints.

"(Y/n), this is Wooyoung," Hongjoong introduces you to the first man, who waves your way. "Lia," the woman returns your awkward smile of a greeting. "And San," who, you don't expect to, leans over the center console and takes you in a sideways hug.

"No touching!" A grumble comes from the back, making San chuckle as he leans back into his seat.

"Nice to meet you," he grins brightly, promptly buckling his seatbelt when he hears Hongjoong start the vehicle back up.

Everyone else quickly copies his actions, and you get the memo the moment before the van lurches to life quickly.

The first few minutes are awkward silence save for the music, which Lia thankfully made the driver turn down.

"So, (Y/n)," Wooyoung starts up, "I don't want you to worry so..." You look back over your shoulder, taking a note of the small freckle under his eye as you search his features. "I just wanted to let you know that we called the state police before we left, it'll take a few hours but the rest of your village won't be stuck in there for too long."

The sentiment gives you the smallest hint of relief, knowing that they won't just be left there to wither until someone would notice that the whole town disappeared off the face of the planet. "Thanks..." You nod shortly, taking the time turned around to inspect the other new faces as well.

Lia has a seemingly familiar set of round and soft features, but you can't quite place it. Nor can you place her ranking in the group. She doesn't smell like a wolf, but you don't want to pry.

San, however, has the clear ego of a beta; chest puffed out and radiating confidence, but not power. He's got a smile that doesn't match any of that though, and that along with his friendly actions make you think he's not as scary as he presents.

You turn back around and face the road, watching the sign for your town wiz past.

"How far to Los A..."

"Aranza! Maybe like... 26 hours?" Lia's words make you look to Hongjoong, who's tapping away at the wheel as he speeds.

"Seonghwa," you call out.

"Hm?"

"Can someone else drive?"

˚➶ ｡˚

Your request was denied, obviously, and everyone had to hang on every time Hongjoong made a turn or hit a bump. Admittedly, it was fun to watch him let loose and sing his heart out while the wind knocked his hair around. That, paired with the surprisingly kind conversation that the pack members made with you made for a good first three hours.

After that, Wooyoung got grumpy. "I'm hungry!"

Then, Mingi chimed in, "I have to use the bathroom!"

Then, San, "My legs asleep! Ow, really Lia?"

When you gave Hongjoong a begging glance, that's when he finally started looking for an exit on the highway.

The mom and pop restaurant was run down and quiet, but you were thankful that that meant less people to see the rag tag team of criminals you were with and potentially cause problems. The van was parked half hazardously in the back by the restrooms, and Mingi was the first out from the back doors, practically dashing into the men's room.

You grab the handle to the passenger side door only to be grabbed on the opposite wrist. You look to the assailant and see Hongjoong with a questioning gaze. "What? I have to...go," you shrug his hand away, opening your door and hopping down before he can stop you again.

You hear some soft foot steps enter the bathroom as you hover, but they don't enter a stall. "Did they send you to babysit me," you groan, nearly slapping yourself as you speak before thinking again.

"Yeah, sorry..." Lia's voice is apologetic, and when you finally exit: her face is as well. "They can be a bit...uhm."

"Paranoid? Overbearing?"

"Yeah," she nods softly, using the mirror she stands infront of to look at you as you wash your hands. The way your shoulders slump and your head hangs low makes her heart ache for you. "I hope we can be friends. You're going to need some in this side of the world."

You look in the mirror in front of yourself, matching her stance as you watch one another through the glasses. "I hope so, too."

     When you join the men back outside, they're all sitting on the curb with plastic bags infront of them. Lia sits in the space between Mingi and San, immediately grappling at the bag the ladder holds out to her. Seonghwa hands you one as well, nodding for you to take it, "yours."

    Inside is two large styrofoam boxes of delicious smelling food, and you look up with your brows pressed together. "This is a lot of food, Seonghwa, I'm not going to eat all of this." You set down one as you open up the other and sit on the warm concrete between the two alphas.

     "You need it, you're still in heat." He hums plainly, dropping a french fry into his mouth as San spits one out from his.

     "Hey!" You yell, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up your neck.

      "What? It's true." He looks around to his pack members, seeing the three lower men looking away from you while Lia simply shakes her head at him, and Hongjoong nods.

     "He's right, we didn't even fuck- ow!" He glares at Mingi as he slaps him upside the head, "we didn't! We only y'know... messed around."

     "Bro, shut up!" Mingi sends you a quick compassionate glance before turning his face to his food. "You guys have zero tact."

     "Tact? What the hells that?" Hongjoong mumbles from around his burger, "you made that up."

  In defiance of your anger at him, his antics make you smile as you take a bite of food.

˚➶ ｡˚

The next stop the vehicle makes is in the dead of night, the spring moon full and bright.

It was only you and Hongjoong awake when you asked if their promise from earlier still stood: whatever you need and nothing more.

He was quick to peel off the road and park the sleeping group before leading you into the woods to satisfy your once again noisy wolf.

You hate that you nearly start howling aloud when he pushes your back onto a tree, hand behind your head to protect it from the bark, and begins kissing you like he did in your bed.

He takes it a step further, slipping his hand down now that Seonghwa isn't there. His lips meld into yours as he slips his hand under the elastic waistband of your shorts. They travel lower as his fingers do the same, feeling the warmth of your heat which makes him groan into your neck.

When he feels your hands on his shoulders, he closes his eyes and cherishes your touch, letting his wolf drive him forward and press his body to yours in an act of affection which makes you dizzy.

His fingers find their way inside of you, making you gasp toward the stars. His knuckles feel like balls of velvet in your overly sensitive body, driving you nearer and nearer to the cliff of pleasure your wolf desperately needs to dive off of.

        Omega heats are pathetic, you think to yourself as your knees buckle: only being held up by Hongjoongs weight pressing you into the tree as he gives you satisfaction you're incapable of giving yourself.

Thankfully, all too soon, your pleasure reaches its peak and you tumble over it, gushing on his fingers and clinging to him as he kisses the healing mark his teeth left. He wraps his free arm around your back, holding your waist tightly as you tremble. "That's it, Doll..." His voice raises bumps on the flesh of your shoulder, his heavy breaths fanning them.

You can feel his length hard against you, but you're too afraid and too ashamed to acknowledge it and he knows it. But he's content with whatever you give to him in the moment, he doesn't care about his own pleasure as long as his mate is taken care of. He presses his nose into your scent and breathes deeply, letting out a growl as he feels your core clenching.

You feel a sense of dread as you come back to your head fully, watching with wide eyes as he takes his fingers from your shorts and into his mouth. You quickly look away, and hear him chuckling.

"It's okay to want us, Pretty. We're your mates. We want you just as bad."

You share a moment of sincere eye contact before your tears blur his image. "I'm afraid." You confess in a short huff, breathing in the soft wind that surrounds you.

   "Of what? We'll never let anything hurt you." His voice holds a simple directness, he means every word he says and he doesn't see the need to be poetic with it. He just wants to convey the truth to you. "Anyone looks at you the wrong way and I'll gut them. I'll put their head on a pike to show everyone else not to fuck with you."

      With his body once again pressing into you, albeit with a softness that wasn't found in your last heated moment, you find yourself looking down to avoid his wild eyes. He can smell a bittersweet spike of fear in your scent, and his brows furrow together.

     "I'm afraid of you... and of Seonghwa. You frighten me. You don't-" You bite your tongue before you let your emotions speak for you. After a moment, you break your silence, "you don't even know me... and it scares me what you're willing to do. You're criminals. And if... if you don't find me a suitable mate that I'll be next on your list of victims. I didn't ask for this, Hongjoong... I didn't want this."

      His face is stoic for a spell, but his lips slowly curve upward into a bestial grin: followed by the giggles that had haunted your dreams after the first time you heard them. "Oh, (Y/n)," he snickers, eyes closing with the force of his laughter. It rings out in the silent night and mocks you. What could he possibly be finding so funny about your legitimate fears?

     His body collapses into you as he laughs manically, making you freeze with a cry- your body trying to make itself small. You close your eyes, taking sniveling breaths as you will yourself to block out the deranged laughter. "Oh, you're just so adorable!"

    "S-stop laughing at me," you whine, attempting to push his weight off of you as the bark begins digging into your back. He doesn't look it, but he's heavy as all get out as he slumps into you.

     He grips your wrists as you push at his chest and pins them into the tree with his claws caging them in, all laughter gone in a spilt second as he glares down at you. "Now you listen, Doll," he growls between his teeth, making you cry sharper and clench your eyes tighter. He doesn't like that one bit. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, omega!"

You sheepishly open your eyes, too afraid to disobey him even though he's scaring the living daylights out of you with his mood swings. His eyes slowly return to normal, black fading into nothingness at the sight of your fearful eyes.

"Now you listen close, yeah?" He speaks softer than before, kicking your feet apart to stand between them and get closer to you. "You don't quite understand, I think... We could fucking smell you the second we rolled into that place. Now, Seonghwa thought it was a trick- a stupid ploy to get us to be tame. But when you walked into the room, oh we knew it was real! Just one wiff of your fresh scent and my wolf was clawing to get out. Even with that stupid blocker in your neck, we could smell you and that's how we knew. Other alphas won't even understand so it's okay that you don't. But, Doll, you were made for us, and we were made for you. The moon cut us from the same cloth, three pieces from the same puzzle. You were ours the second you were born, and we were yours. We are each others. We are each other. Mind, body, soul, and wolf, we belong to one another. So don't think for a second that we don't know you, okay? We are you. We'll chase you to the ends of the goddamn Earth if we have to. So don't ever fucking say some shit like that again, got it?! I would break open my chest and shove you inside if that's what it took to keep you safe. I'd walk on my hands and knees for eternity if that's what it takes to make you happy! So don't say some shit like that again, am I understood? You are our mate and we will treat you as such, nothing less than a Goddess among wolves and we the Gods that rule beside you. Do you understand?"

You're too busy sobbing, your small sniffles having grown into full blown fat tears and cries during his monologue, to answer him. He withdraws his claws and your arms fall limp to your side. His palms are warm and comforting on your cheeks even as he says firmly, "nod if you understand."

And all you can do is nod pathetically.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART TWO END ˚➶ ｡˚

[moonydustx]

Good Medicine

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

warnings: F!reader is sick, Law has some problems taking action to take care of her. Pre-established relationship, mentions of disgusting things about being sick (basically vomiting) , fluff

a/n: maybe I'll rewrite this better later, I just needed to get it out there to see if it sparked my creativity.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Today was one of those days where you woke up already knowing something was wrong, your only mission was to find out what. The plate in front of you looked strange that morning. The same coffee, the same bread, everything seemed wrong. The same went for your body, it seemed to weigh tons and your stomach was boiling with something that went beyond the hot drink in front of you.

"Are you okay?" Shachi snapped you out of your reverie, watching you roll a piece of the sandwich from one side to the other.

"I just need to get some air." You stood up, not having the trouble to even take your plate off the table.

With hurried steps, you reached the bathroom with just enough time to open the toilet seat before all your breakfast went away. You just hoped that like a good hangover, emptying it would be enough to improve but apparently you were wrong.

You had recently left the last island you had visited, which meant more things to keep: more work for you. In those days, you knew that rest would be scarce, as would the times you would meet your captain - who also served as your boyfriend in his spare time. Chills ran through your body as you struggled to stack two boxes of medical supplies, your body seemed to sweat more than usual. You heard your name being called in the distance, needing to focus a few times before you saw Law approaching.

"Are you ok?" He analyzed you from top to bottom. Pale lips, deep dark circles, something was wrong.

"Yes captain." you replied, respecting your treaty for when you were in public. "Just some heartburn."

"Keep an eye on it. You know where to find the medicine." he simply responded, analyzing you once more before leaving.

You finished putting away the boxes and leaned against the wall, trying to regain the air and strength lost in the whole process. Following the quick orders your captain had given, you swallowed some pills and continued with your tasks, even though your body seemed to fight against every movement.

You loved Law and you knew he loved you too, but sometimes it was a little difficult to deal with how methodical he could be especially when it came to being sick. On days like these, he tended to be more of a doctor than a boyfriend and you hated that. Ignoring the thoughts, you made your way to your shared room, reaching the bed and seeing Ikkaku hanging from the top.

"What ghost scared you?"

"What you mean?" you threw yourself against the pillows, using the blanket.

"You're pale, you look like you're going to disappear." She came down, standing in front of you and placing her hand on your forehead. "And you're burning up with a fever."

"I've already taken my medicine." you covered your head, trying to escape the cold that only you felt. "I just need to get some sleep."

"Did you eat anything bad?" She pulled your blanket back. "Or are you pregnant?"

"I'm betting more on the first hypothesis." you immediately reassured her, knowing that for the other proposal, you and Law were always responsible in terms of protecting each other. "I think it's just a virus."

"Did you warn Law?"

"He asked me to..." you sat down, to continue talking, but again your stomach turned.

Without responding, you ran once again towards the bathroom, this time Ikkaku's hurried footsteps followed you.

"Open the door." she asked and even though she didn't see it, you shook your head. A few minutes passed before it knocked again.

"I am worried." she warned. "Open the door or I'll have to call him here."

"It is not necessary." you reached up, unlocking the lock. "I'm just a little dizzy."

"Let me help you." Ikkaku pulled you, supporting your body as you washed your face. "Are you sure the medicine alone is enough?"

"Yes." you replied with clear discouragement in your voice.

"I'm going back to my room, maybe getting some sleep will help me."

Walking a few meters from the bathroom, the two of you came face to face with Law followed by Bepo, both discussing something about the likely next island they would find.

"Are you feeling ok?" Bepo was the first to ask and you just nodded. Law's gaze burned over you again, analyzing every inch of your body.

He knew there was something wrong, but he didn't know how far he wanted to intervene, for fear that you would feel uncomfortable.

"Do you need any help?" he asked in your direction, waiting for you to say yes.

"It's okay captain." you replied before Ikkaku spoke for you, giving what was your best smile for the moment.

he two of you walked away from him and it didn't take long for you to reach the bedroom. Ikkaku helped you get to the bed and watched you cover yourself up to your head. Being one of the only two people who knew about your relationship with the captain, she sat at the foot of the bed, watching you.

"Are you sure you don't want to ask him for help?"

"He's going to medicate me, probably tell me to eat and rest. I've already done almost all of that." you answered. "I don't want to be a problem for him, I know it's not in his profile to take care of someone like that, in a more intimate way."

"But it's what you need right now." she replied, walking away. "Get some rest, I'll ask them to prepare something light for you to eat."

The lights went out and you remained there in a light doze bothered by the fever. Ikkaku followed with firm steps, finding the captain heading towards his room, approaching him halfway and pretending to be angry.

"Captain, I need to talk to you."

She tried to appear more imposing in order to advocate for her friend, but she knew that would be a bit difficult when the person you want to impose yourself on is your captain. Law just gave her space to enter the room, closing the door for her.

"What happened?"

"Are you really going to let your girlfriend walk around dying?" she crossed her arms, indignant.

"She said it was just heartburn."

"That was her talking to her doctor. With her boyfriend she would definitely ask for help. Can I give some unsolicited advice captain?" Ikkaku leaned on the table, taking the opportunity to look around.

"I guess I have no choice, right?"

"She's burning up with a fever in her room, she vomited her guts out and can't stand up." with each new symptom, Law was the one who seemed to get paler and more worried. "Take care of her a little. A little affection is also good medicine."

"Right..." he seemed to analyze, waiting for more answers from the woman in front of him.

"I'll ask them to prepare some soup for her and leave it in her room, okay?"

"Could it be." Law turned his back to Ikkaku, ready to leave. "Thank you. This time I won't throw you into the sea out of insolence." he joked, earning a few laughs from the woman.

Law knew something was wrong, now he needed to find out why you didn't ask for his help. He walked quickly and felt his heart shatter when he found you curled up and shaking under the blanket.

"Just let me sleep Ikkaku, I don't know if I can eat right now." your dejected voice murmured, squeezing Law's heart even more.

Now it was all so clear, so obvious that part of the doctor felt ashamed for not having noticed it before. You were so careful with anyone who even cut a piece of their finger, it was obvious you wanted the same treatment.

"Hey, sorry it took me so long." he whispered. You opened your eyes and found Law bent down on your bed, his fingers were removing the strands stuck to your face by sweat. "I'm going to do a quick scan on you."

He warned and then used the sword he carried, analyzing every millimeter of your body. It seemed to be a virus and a resistant one. That would explain the fever and the tremors.

"Let me take proper care of you."

"No." you murmured, feeling his arms go around your legs and back, picking you up. "I already took medicine."

"I know."

"And I don't want to be tied up in an IV." you tried to pull away from him, feeling your stomach drop at the movement.

"I'm not going to medicate you." the blue dome appeared around the two of you.

"And I think I need to throw up."

At the last second, Law changed your fate, taking you to the bathroom. As soon as the gray walls of your room turned into the walls of the bathroom, you reached the floor again, leaning over the toilet and despite the immense urge your body didn't seem to have any more bile to be expelled. It took him a few seconds to follow you, but soon his hands found your hair, holding it with one hand while the other passed your forehead.

"Law." you called and flinched, pressing your own body against yourself. "It hurts."

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." he placed his hand on top of yours, which was pressed against your stomach. "You still have a fever and haven't eaten anything, we need energy for your body." he confirmed, gently lifting you off the ground. "Come on, I'll give you a bath.

"I'm disgusting."

"That's the point." Law spoke and saw you laugh, albeit lightly, which was already a relief for him. "I'm just kidding. Let's try to get this fever down."

Knowing that you didn't have enough strength to even talk, Law guided you to the shower, taking off your clothes while you leaned on him. As soon as the cold water came into contact with your body, you tried to escape and were immediately held by your boyfriend.

"Law!"

"Just a little, I know it's pretty cold." he allowed you to hug him even more and consequently get him wet in the process. "I promise, just a few minutes and I'll take you back to our room."

"If I survive until then."

"Do not say that." He scolded you, even though he knew that your way of dealing with problems was always sarcastic - sometimes even too much.

Law slowly turned off the shower. The first breeze that hit your damp skin made you cling against him and whimper, Law's usually colder skin this time was a warm pleasure to your body.

You felt a drastic difference in the environment and broke away from the man, seeing that you were in his room. Law guided you to sit on the bed and pulled a small blanket over your shoulders while he looked for some clothes for you to wear. Taking advantage of the comfort, you lay down and watched him walk from one side to the other.

"Can you sit down?" He knelt in front of you, using a small towel to dry your still damp skin.

Leaning on his shoulders, you sat on the bed and for a few minutes, you felt like a delicate, small doll. Using the extra strength he had that you lacked, Law dressed your body piece by piece, like a delicate puzzle. Even with the simple touch of your hand on your shoulder, Law could feel you tremble, probably due to the weakness that the virus brought to you.

A few minutes later, you were dressed. A pair of baggy black sweatpants and a blouse of the same size. Surprising you by showing that he had more pieces than the hat adorned with black circles, Law placed a black cap on your head, adjusting your ears so that they were also warm in the fabric.

"Unfortunately, we can't use that." he pushed away the blanket you were about to use. "If you cover yourself up and get hotter than that, it will only make your fever worse."

Avoiding your grumble, Law sat with his coat against the wall and pulled you to sit against his chest. Watching you curl up against his body, Law picked up the small bowl on the table next to him that Ikkaku had probably left as they agreed.

"I do not want it." you tried to move it away with your hand, having used your strength in vain as Law didn't move an inch. "I just want to sleep, just a little."

"Just a few spoonfuls and I'll let you sleep. It's that or more medicine." He warned, seeing you pout at the time. "Come on, I'll help you."

"Sorry to bring you into this."

"You don't need to say sorry." Law wished he could get rid of that virus right away when he saw you grunting in pain when you swallowed the first spoonful of food. "I should have noticed sooner, I know I can be more distant sometimes, but I need you to make it clear when you need me in moments like this."

"But what about the others, if they suspect something?" you accepted the other spoonful of food, the discomfort this time was smaller but still present.

"It's okay as long as you're okay."

Supporting the bowl of soup in one hand and the spoon in the other, Law convinced you to eat just five more spoonfuls, the last one being enough for him to see you push the bowl away and writhe in pain again. Law placed the bowl in the same room he was in before and saw you cling to his body, your eyes already heavy.

"Law you're going to get sick." you mumbled, already practically giving in to sleep.

"Don't worry about that." the last thing you felt was his lips on your forehead. "And if I stay, it will be worth staying with you."

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Loss | Nico Hischier x Reader

inspired by the song crazy in love- remix by Beyoncé

Warnings: language, argument, cool off, makeup sex, breeding kinks, unprotected smut!!! BE SAFE PLZZ (very small amount of smut at the end, really only a makeup blurb)

Summary: after the devils lost their last game that could’ve gotten them into the playoffs, Nico takes the loss personally.

💭: JACK THEN LUKE 🩷🤞

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The ride home from the game was the loudest silence I’ve heard. Nico was the last one off the ice and the first one to leave the locker room. He was in a rush to get home.

No comments on any conversation I made, no road rage, no hand on my thigh, no post game kisses. If anything, I’m scared he’ll leave.

Nico would never do anything to hurt me, but when it comes to hockey, he’ll most definitely pick the sport over me. I’m okay knowing his career is a bigger deal than me, because of how big of a deal hockey is to everyone else.

I mean he’s captain. He should be working his ass off and not just for the spot as C, but for everyone to respect him.

“Nico. You know if you need to-“ Nico cuts me off.

“I don’t need to talk about it.” He shoots out. I think i see actual steam coming out of his ears. Before we head home, Nico stopped by a grocery store to pick up a snack.

He gets out of the car and didn’t open my door. “Well i guess I’m not going with.” I mutter to myself.

I see Nico walk into the store, he has tears in his eyes, I watch him walk away, hands up to his face. He’s wiping the tears away.

Real men show emotion.

“God.” I scream in frustration. I take my shoes off, i let my socks hand out, leaving my puffer jacket on i slide my purse off.

I take my phone out of my pocket from my jeans, I’m tired of it, seriously, why am I getting blamed.

~text~

i want choco pretz. (You)

send me $$ then. (Nico)

nvm. (You)

Read (Nico)

~

what a bitch.

Nico comes out of the store with four plastic bags on each side of his arms. He stuffs the goods into the backseats.

“So, what did you get?” I ask him. I don’t my pretzels.

“Your chocolate pretzels- and your gummies.” He slides his arm into a bag sitting behind my seat. He takes his hand and throws the bag of pretzels at me. My eye gets hit, I have a red mark lining through my eyebrow to the bottom of my nose- acrooss my eyelid.

~

We made it home. Nico already had dinner, and i ate Mac and cheese before the game. “Dinner in five. Be ready or I’m going to bed.” Nico says. He walks into the house, leaving me to open my own door and take my own bag. He leaves his hockey gear in the trunk and he gathers the grocery bags.

He loads the bags into the kitchen leaving him to unload them. I walk into the bedroom we share and i take my get ready bag, some makeup, and pjs and i wlak into the guest bedroom.

“Where are you going?” He snaps at me. He whips his head around to look at the hallway I’m in, facing our bedroom he sees the empty space of a bed I slept in.

I took my pillow, my personal blanket, and my phone charger. It looks like we broke up and i no longer had a life in this house. The vanity i sat in every morning is dark, and empty.

“Where does it look like?” I responded. I implied i was leaving for the night by gesturing to the pillow and small blanket in my hands that I wasn’t sleeping in the bed tonight.

“Sure as hell you’re but sleeping in the guest, and you’re not sleeping in your car.” He shouts at me. Nico gets angry easily, obviously not always at me but he was already upset about the game, I didn’t wnat to be around him.

I rolled my eyes and snarked at him. I walk into the room and shut the door. I immediately lock it setting my stuff down on the bed.

“Let me fucking in the room y/n. Open the stupid door.” He screams out for me.

“Just fucking cook dinner!” I yell back. I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at the fact he shuts me out and gets mad at me for trying.

~

Eventually I smell the food go cold, I don’t smell the warm hot steam from the food, so I open the door, I poke me head out. The bedroom door is shut. The lights are off. “Maybe he’s sleeping.” I whisper to myself.

Nico is no where in sight, so I leave the room I was hiding in. I grabbed a plate of whatever he made for dinner and popped it in the microwave.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nico grabs my hips. “I need to talk.” He motions me to the couch.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I roll my eyes and scoff. Ridiculous.

I switch the lights on as I sit my pretty ass kn the couch. “Why talk now? It’s like 1:24 am.” I glance at the clock that sits above our stove.

“I’m sorry I lashed out on you.” He says.

“I love you, and I care about you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I insisted. The microwave goes off. My food is ready.

We let the food go off. Nico picks me up from the couch. He rubs me over to the bed we share. I had bought this body oil from Victoria’s Secret because it smelt good. Naturally I thought I could put it in my hair, but of course Nico had different plans.

“Turn, clothes. Off.” He sighs as he catches his breath from running around. He slides his sweatpants off, keeps his shirt on.

He spanks my ass. I can feel the stinging pain throughout my whole body.

“Makeup sex to distract me?” I laugh.

“Is it working?” Nico asks as he puts a towel down near my body. He opens the plastic bottle. Pouring the cold oil onto my back he massages into me.

Glitter specks and the rich perfume fragrance fills the room. I feel slippery.

“My turn.” I say. No hesitation I get up and push Nico down. I tear his shirt off of him. Leaving him with his boxers on. I look down motioning to take them off.

He does.

I see a very large cock perked up towards me.

“Gross.” I laugh as turn around to take my bra and tight thing off.

I let Nico lay on his forearms as I run the oil around his abs. He sucks on my hard nippples as I massage the oil into his warm body. I jump onto him. Straddling him, my back facing his face. He pulls me forwards.

I slip, falling face first onto his dick.

I suck o to his cock, Nico lays back, pulling my legs apart, setting them next to his ears.

My pussy opens for him right on his face. He licks every inch of me, I feel a spurt come into my mouth as I suck harder. He jolts yo and down telling me to stop. I can’t.

~

He thrusts harder into me. Pushing his top into my lungs. I feel very heartbeat from his cock into my own pussy.

He pulls out, letting his cum squirt outside of me. I lay flat on my back waiting for him. He pushes three fingers inside and I can feel him wiggle the around looking for something to tease me with.

He lets the oil smother me. The towel wets my hair from all of the oil that pooled into the crevasses of the linen.

Nico takes his fingers out of me and stuffs it I tibuso mouth. Sucking his fingers clean he kisses me. Shoving his tounge down my throat. Massaging every bit of my mouth with his.

I feel his stubble rub against my face. I enjoy knowing he thinks I’ll forget all of the argument within the 19 minute blowjob.

I feel his cock fall onto my lap.

“This should be here, I should be in here.” I pull Nico’s face off of mine. I grab his cock and push it off of my skin, I point to my ribs.

Nico laughs, he thrusts once inside of me, he grips onto my hair falling just to me after he finishes inside me.

Once again he pumps himself into me. This time I do feel him in my ribs.

~

“Goodnight.” I say as I pick up my clean towel and I get in the shower.

“You’re not sleeping in here? Can I shower with you?” Nico runs after me, rubbing my lower stomach.

“I’m tired.” I grunt. And I walk away. “You can shower after me.” I wink as I leave to turn on the hot water.

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

........................

[MDNI, Mention of Suicide, Smoking, Non-consensual Choking, Alcohol Consumption]

[6.6k words] 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 9 "The Glass"

Good things never lasted.

You were going to get a bitter reminder of that little fact by the end of the day and looking back, you wished you’d just died the night before when you were happy.

Cooper had left before sunrise, rasped a few commands to stay put and that he wouldn’t be long, to talk to Mitzi if you needed anything and put it on his tab. You’d been too drowsy to consider the anomaly, him leaving you to your leisure, out of his sight for more than a few moments. Your answer had been barely coherent, muffled into the pillow as your body lay squished between the mattress and the ghoul. Sloppy palms had given your plushy hips a few squeezes, a brash peck or two to your shoulder and he was gone.

You awoke properly a few hours later, late into the morning. The bleary memories flooded back, but the warm sunlight and the clinking and buzz of life stirring from the main floor kept the dread from sinking too deep.

He’d be back, you weren’t abandoned, the leathery bandolier discarded on the couch said as much, it eased your uncertainty the moment you’d spotted it behind a curtain of messy hair. And until then, Mitzi would be your consolation. Harmless naivety had you imagining serving customers and clearing up tables while indulging in idle chatter together, counting caps and scribbling orders while immersed in a lighthearted repartee.  

After a prolonged yawn and a thorough stretch that earned a few satisfying pops from your back, you slid from beneath the heavy, woolen comforter. Your boots are neatly set on the floor beside the foot of the bed, tights stuffed inside one of them while your socks occupy the other; you fiddle with them, pull them on, and tie them securely.

A peculiar, but not unfamiliar symphony catches your attention and you peek out the window curiously. The huddled, snoozing brahmin from last night are now serenely moping around the front yard, grazing at the scarce weeds that sprout around the vegetable garden or sunbathing on the powdery ground. There’s a person tending the plants, clad in a large straw hat and baggy clothes, ankles deep in mud and with an empty bucket on their hip along with a pair of rusty sheers.

Fingers comb through your hair and pat it down to a barely presentable state before you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll the stiffness out of your shoulders. Standing, you shake the numbness off and tap the tip of your shoes into the floor to set them in place.

The smell of coffee lingers, sharp and bitter, it leads you through the mouldering corridor and down the creaky stairs, into the bar. The music still plays and the shadowy figures are now nothing more than brooding travelers nurturing either a hangover or sleeplessness. Daytime is less kind to the appearance of the guesthouse, specs of dust can be spotted in the brash sunrays flooding through the windows, the time-touched signs on every bit of furniture are obvious now. The omnicity and furtiveness have vanished, all is mundane and regular; the cigarette smog yet persists, rivaled only by the stench of old grease being reheated to prepare the breakfast items from the menu.

“Cooper’s runt.”

Your head snaps to the bar and there stands a beefy woman who would easily beat most if not all her clientele in arm wrestling. A stick-and-poke tattoo of a cupid is proudly displayed on her shoulder, a mane of curly black hair is tied back into a low ponytail, beady eyes are eating you up like a snack and you instinctively straighten out some of the less defined creases in your dress.

“Uh…Good morning?” you bear an uneasy smile, hoping that her comment was one of bluntness and not hostility.

The gold in her mouth glints as she beckons you closer with a canine grin.

“Indeed a good mornin’. Not a single raider got cooked on the fence yesterday and m’ dogs didn’t stir all night!” leaving the pile of caps for later, she rests an elbow on the counter and extends a hand to you. “I’m guessing Mitzie was too hyper to give me a proper introduction. Happens sometimes when unfamiliar faces stop by, don’t mind ‘er.” you shake her hand with hesitancy and pull away too hastily for someone who’s trying to mask their intimidation. She scoffs at your skittish nature. “M’ name’s Monique, owner of this fine establishment.”

As if on cue with you sitting on one of the bar stools, a strikingly large hound pokes its head from behind the mass of stained coffee cups yet to be cleared for washing and greets you with a bellowing bark. You start with a choked cry and recoil as the furless beast strains forward with a twitching snout, eager to give you a good sniff.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Bucky, down!” Monique is quick to scold the dog and its once perked ears lower, the energetic whining, however, doesn’t waver. “What I tell you ‘bout scaring customers? You ain’t a pup no more.”

She pushes down on his massive head until he’s out of sight, but the visually grotesque mutt is far from discouraged. Carrying the heart of a Labrador, he’s set to complete his innocent mission of establishing a new friendship and add it to his vast collection.

You hear the patter of clawed paws and soon he reappears, having circled the counter and now eagerly sat beside your chair, beaming up at you while his curious nose pokes at the side of your thigh. Your first instinct is to stiffen, Bucky isn’t the only mongrel you’ve seen, but the rest had all been rabid and out for blood, driven mad by both homelessness and radiation.

“He don’t bite.”

You vaguely register his owner’s quip, attention glued to the shiny slobber being happily spread over your tights.

There are dogs like Cujo and dogs like Lassie and your caution was founded, but it was doing Bucky a disservice. Poor bud was pleading for a pat and a good belly rub. Gathering enough courage to still the shakiness of your fingers, you plant them gently over the pooch’s wrinkled forehead and let them rest there to see his reaction. He’s delighted, the stump of a tail on his butt almost vibrating when you reach to scratch behind his chewed-up ear.

“Good pup.” you mirror his doggy grin, lovingly assaulting him with both hands now and he’s happily melting against your leg, snout stuffed into your dress and dampening it with open mouthed, hot huffs. “He’s lovely.”

“Of course!” Monique shrugs with a prideful snort. “I trained ‘em.” she’s back to counting yesterday’s profit while comparing separate piles to the list of orders.

Once Bucky has melted into a satisfied puddle on the floor you’re left to awkwardly eye the place while mulling over what to say next or if you should at all. Without Cooper standing between you and the world, it became difficult to find your courage and be your own entity. You’d never been apart, you’d grown co-dependent and not only on his marvelous gunslinging but on his presence as a whole. Starting from him being your only means of familiarity and safety, to you clinging to him now as your single source of comfort. You relied on him for everything. If that bit of info had been obscured before, pushed to the back of your mind due to bigger problems needing solving, now it was blatantly obvious.

 The bartender was no danger, she was great albeit a little rough around the edges, and her pet being this friendly spoke more than words ever could. Still, a mental barrier prevented your voice from showing. You were mute and bolted to the stool until an event requiring a change happened.

“So you here to chat or can I getcha anything?”

Monique, the absolute angel of a woman, had finished up her daily counting of caps and was expectantly staring you down. You doubted she was aware of her kind act, but were grateful regardless because if she hadn’t spoken up you never would have, not for a while at least.

“Is there coffee?” you perk up at the offer, display the sweetest smile you can make up, and drown the dreary train of thought that had been on its way to ruin your day.

“Mitzie! Cup o’ coffee for Doe Eyes!” she leans back to holler at the kitchen door, then turns to you. “Ten caps.”

You had a nickname already, how quaint.

“Actually, can you put it on C –”

“– I’ll pay.” your second favorite ghoul steps out of the kitchen with a tray in hand and you were expecting her to be just as cheery as the previous night if not more, but she’s anything but. “You can make it up to me with a good chat, yeah?”

She’s looking at you with incomprehensible unease which sparks worry in your gut. There’s a weight to her movements, something fowl plaguing her that can’t be blamed on just lack of sleep, but by her droopy eyes, you can tell that’s also a factor.

“…Sure?” is all you manage before she sits beside you and pushes the steaming mug towards you.

“Ma, I’m sorry. Can you please serve breakfast for me? I’ll take over after this, just…” she doesn’t finish, the rest of the words between her and Monique are exchanged non-verbally and the stout woman flares up.

You expect her to say something by the way her jaw tightens and her beady eyes narrow, she doesn’t. Instead, she spares you a glance that lingers too long for it to be anything but disheartening and leaves. You follow her until she’s out of sight, made anxious by their queer exchange and vaguely acknowledging the unbearably scalding cup of coffee in your hands.

“Right…Before I say anything I want you to at least consider my words, okay?” there’s an urgency to her voice, she’s drumming her fingers over the counter, and her baby blues turned ghostly grey are glued to you to make sure your attention is solely centered on her. “This isn’t just me spouting shit to scare you off or stir trouble.”

It’s unnerving, Mitzie’s shift of character is turning your friendliness into apprehensiveness. You’d be empathetic to her perturbed state, but all emotion is overwhelmed by the incessant foreboding forming a lump in your throat.

“What?” you blurt while nervously tracing the edge of the cup. Shifting more comfortably into your stool, you lower until you’re nearly lying on the bar with ears strained and a whirring mind. “Mitzie, what’s going – ”

 “ – Promise me.”

There is nothing subtle about the way you’re etching closer to her, anyone with one good eye would spot the direness in your conversation. What you wished for was to know why there were such macabre undertones to her speech. A night had passed since you’d last seen each other. What could have possibly happened for her to look as though she was about to attend a funeral?

With the way she’s positioned, body directly facing you and her head slightly rolled to the side, she can easily switch from watching you to checking the entrance of the guesthouse. She does just that, gaze darting back and forth and waiting for something, anticipating. It’s nerve-wracking, makes your stomach coil.

What the hell is going on?

“I…Sure, okay. I promise.” you answer, obliging her in the hopes that it eases some of her worries. “What’s going on?”

She nudges you to drink before your coffee gets cold, then combats your question with her own.

“How long have you known Cooper?”

“Couple months…Why?” your best efforts to keep an even, soft tone fail and your reply comes out curt and snappy.

“What do you know about him?” she gives you no room to breathe, fires another inquiry even with your apparent skepticism towards the conversation.

The music and simmering liveliness are drowned out by the steadily increasing beat of your heart. Your surroundings fade, blocked from your peripherals until it’s only you, Mitzie and Bucky as he soundly snoozes in your feet. You envy him and his ignorance.

Her question does more damage than intended.

Truthfully, you know nothing of your short-tempered companion, you wouldn’t even know his name if it hadn’t been for the slip-up in Tillburry. You’d based his adamance of keeping you uninformed on his lack of trust, but by the incredulous way Mitzie had asked, you began doubting that excuse. You’d traversed enough land and shared countless nights huddled together, sharing a meal, sharing everything, watching each other’s backs. Surely by now, you’d earned the right to know at least his age, yet he’d revealed nothing to you. You light up the conniving musing with the scalding heat of your drink and let simmer away as you respond.

“I mean…Not much, but –”

“– Fucking typical…” she snarls, doesn’t let you finish, already knowing the answer, her gaunt features turn malignant, and the grimace she bears is bone-chilling. Mitzie checks the horizon beyond the freshly wiped windows, shifts uncomfortably, as if ladened by her uniform, and continues with urgency. “Listen to me, I know his words probably outweigh mine, I mean, we’re not really friends you and I. And you don’t have to believe me…but for your own sake I hope you do.”

She’s gesturing down with her hand, palms spread and visible to soothe your hastily dissipating patience. Your prickliness doesn’t wane and the more she tries to tame it while spouting gibberish the worse it gets. You cross both legs and arms, barricading your tumultuous heart from the trepidatious babbling and letting go of the politeness keeping the bubbling vulgar words out of your vocabulary.

To hell with manners and formalities if you were going to be interrogated without being given a reason why.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s not a good man.” she whispers while cupping her mouth and it’s low, but with enough certainty for you to hear perfectly. “Cooper. He’s bad…real fucking bad.”

“You aren’t telling me anything new.” you shake your head with a series of blinks, unmoved. Her deciding to sit you down and work you up for a serious conversation to tell you this while Cooper is away instead of simplifying it to a passing comment while she’s working is more of a surprise than the information itself.

Was this fiasco truly about the bounty hunter’s moral compass? Really?

“You don’t get it…” she clasps a hand over her forehead with a pained expression and a groan, then lets it slide down to rub her eyes. “He doesn’t care about anybody. He sure as fuck doesn’t care about you. You just can’t see it yet.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” you deflect with a half-frown. “I mean, sure. He’s not great, but he’s been patient with me, he’s a good friend. He’s kept me alive so far when he could have left me behind plenty of times.”

“Yeah? Good friend?” there’s mockery hanging off every word, then Mitzie pauses as if debating whether she should say more. For a moment she’s mournful, regretful that she’s burdened with ripping apart the delusion you’ve lived in thus far. “So did he tell you he has a family?”

The world stops, you falter.

“What?”

To behold a human break from the utterance of so few words is a sad imagery.

“Told me one night when he was high off his ass.” her words cut deep, slice through your cool demeanor until you’re left bare before the raw turmoil that beats you down until you’re physically doubling over. She grips your hand as a reminder that she’s still there and not hurting you out of spite. “A daughter and a wife. He’s looking for them, Honeybee. He isn’t making friends with you, he’s using you.”

You look at her hand over yours. It reminds you of his.

“That’s not…”

Unlike her who is high on alert and jumping at every creak or shuffle, you’re far away. Ripped out of your body as her truths knock on your skull and try to sink it, you’re scrambling to regain feeling in your legs, fighting to remember how to move your lips to form a coherent sentence. Heat rises from the bowels of your stomach to the peak of your neck, nips at your ears until you’re conscious of their existence, and submerged in an almost deafening screeching.

“His daughter’s name is Janey. Ask em yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Searing pinches assault your scalp, you scratch them away, but more appear and you’re left pulling at fistfuls of hair to ease some of the pulsing tension rendering your vision doubled. You have to grip the counter before you tumble off the chair, any sign of balance or proper motor function is gone, overshadowed by that screaming that’s tormenting your hearing and making your teeth ache.

A daughter…a wife…

You’d had your tongue ravaging the mouth of someone’s husband. What the actual fuck. You would have let him take you if he’d so wished.

Cooper falls in your eyes then, his pedestal – desecrated, his value – diminished. You hoped the love would die, that your affection would flee just as fast as the shame had settled. But it doesn’t, he’d made damn sure you’d stay a loyal bitch, had worked your cogs from the start until you were enamored.

You felt disgusting, wanted to crawl out of your skin.

“Mitzie…” sullen, destroyed, humiliated, still you defend him, still you fight against the stinging reality that burrows into your flesh and writhes until you’re close to hurling. Still, you try to keep the halo above his head from completely cracking while gathering the pieces of your scattered mind, alone, of course, because you know he’d never do what you do for him. “That’s none of my business, neither yours.”

Preserving his reputation while yours crumbles away, pathetic. Have you no self-respect? No. Not when it comes to him.

“Yes it is!” she exclaims, spills too much too brashly in her frustration. “I saw you through the keyhole…last night.”

Her vigor fades at the repulsion plastered on your face. You rip away from her, refusing all contact except that of your hardened eyes burning into hers for answers.

“You were spying on us?”

The bridge she’d built between you was burnt, the gates to your impressionable mind shut before her. The trust she’d earned was stomped and left to rot. That single jumble of a confession thrown in the hopes of convincing you further tore apart any ounce of tolerance you had left.

With a slack jaw, she watches your lids close over guttural anguish and your mouth twitch into a thin line as you hold back the bitter betrayal from surfacing.

“Enough…”

Your voice is unrecognizable.

Fuck her. Fuck him! Fuck everything…

You should have never stopped at this damnable place.

“Wait…Wait, please, wait, wait, wait.” she clings to your arm before you’ve walked too far, baby blues dashing around random spots in search of a proper expression. “I was scared for you.” she confesses over hoarseness due to either a dry throat or uncontrollable emotions. She’s shaking you, desperate to make you understand and giving no fucks about how stupid the pair of you look or how much attention she draws. “You can’t trust him, please listen to me! He’s leading you to slaughter!”

“I don’t trust rats.”

Glistening with stifled tears at the absolute hatred in your snarl, Mitzie loosens her hold and her head dips. Too kind to push her away and leave, too hurt to accept her accusations as the truth, you’re stuck in a limbo of numbness and hollow pain. You’d urge her to cry if she’s so riled up, would have lent a shoulder and cried with her. But there is only so much a person can take.

Blow after blow, you’re left too stunted to express anything despite everything inside you twisting.

“There’s…a place.” she murmurs while tugging you to the stairs where shadows reign to hide both of you from curious onlookers and save you the trouble. “It’s half a day away from here. Super Duper Mart. It’s…It’s an organ harvesting business.”

“I’m not…Get to the fucking point.” you command, but your tone wavers and your mouth shuts before an unsolicited sob escapes.

“Please, let me go…Please…I can’t anymore…”

“Ghouls need a certain substance to stay sane. All of us do. Super Duper Mart sells it. Usually, we sell a kidney to get a few vials, it grows back in a day or two. Or a ton of caps, but not a lot of people can afford that.” she swallows something vile, and rearranges her next words in a way that doesn’t outright spit at everything you’ve known to be your existence so far, your false reality. “Or, we sell someone else’s organs.”

You shudder, lean against the railing before your knees give out, and suck in a shaky breath as the ice licks your spine raw.

“Please don’t…”

“Let me live a lie. Let me die happy.”

“He only stops here when he’s going there.”

“Mitzie.” your warning falls on deaf ears.

“You’re a product, not a person.” she chokes you with harsh facts, steers the reins of your sanity towards a meltdown and it doesn’t take long for your mouth to drip with blood from biting open wounds into your bottom lip. “Not to him.” she catches you when you wobble, blows at your face because you’ve turned ghostly pale. “You need to get the hell out of whatever shit he’s gotten you into. Leave before it’s too late.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go? I don’t know shit about surviving alone…I depend on him for everything.” you croak and taste bile on your tongue.

“You could stay here…” she mumbles, salving over the gashes she caused. “Could always use another pair of hands, if you’re willing to pay for your supper in labor.” she pats your head, brushes the hair to expose dead eyes staring right through her, but that doesn’t stop her from playing hero. “I talked with ma already, and Cooper isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t pull a gun here. Just tell him you don’t wanna travel with him anymore when he’s back. Or I can do it, I don’t mind.” she’s so kind, a sweet deformed woman, a sisterly guide trying to save you from the jaws of the reaper. “You have a choice. You have a chance. Please…”

But you don’t want her. You want him.

You wave a deathly calm hand and draw an end to her verbal molestation. Whisked away by the last burst of energy available, your back greets her as you ascend the stairs, leave her and everything she’s thrown at you behind. Trapped into the premises of your head, you forget speech and hearing as she meagerly calls to you for an answer.

Uncaring for your mental limitations as she is, Mitzie doesn’t pursue. Maybe it’s best you contemplate your next actions in solitude.

Tear-stained vision leads you to the safety of your room before you crumble to the floor, looming over the toilet as you lurch spit and air. You wish to be rid of this entire experience, throw up everything you’ve heard and said.

Nothing comes out.

The ringing subsides along with all worldly sensations just a moment later as you lie limp inside the bathroom with eyes rolled into the back of your head. Darkness has consumed both thought and feeling, lulling you into still nothingness. Steady breaths cast a sheet of vapor over the cool tiles.

Woe is you, weak, pathetic thing, dreaming of adventure and independence, freedom and love. Here is your independence now, your freedom, your love, your pleas were answered. Take them. You’ve wanted them for so long… Take them now.

It’s the scratching that pulls you out of unconsciousness. Fingers twitch to life first, then your senses return albeit groggy and dull. You’ve no interest in company, but the single needy whine amidst the determined scraping makes you overturn that decision.

With no recollection of when you’d fainted or for how long, you’re whimpering and nurturing a heavy migraine.

Bucky, your savior, lets himself in happily when you manage to crawl to the door and open it. The mere sight of him, so glad to see you again and wagging that stump of a tail, draws the last straw of your composure. You claw at him until he’s sitting between your legs, resting a slobbering snout against your shoulder as you weep into his thick neck, possessed by ugly sobs that shake your entire being.

He snaps his jaws a few times, a gentle brute, as you hug him close and suffocate in despair and loathing until you’re spent. He stays with you when you stand on wonky feet and pop a Rad-X before taking a shower that lasts long enough to count for two. Ever loyal and eager, you bathe him as well while he tries to bite the water current.

A clean boy, the goodest of boys, the crutch to your broken self. He licks the droplets off your calves as you let your dress dry you off and don’t bother to towel your hair.

Nobody told you drinking on an empty stomach is a death sentence, but you’re desperate to quiet down your wounded soul and racing imagination so the outcome would have been the same. The bourbon is sweet against your throat, doesn’t burn one but this time and Bucky is a warm, soft pillow to your floating head once it becomes too heavy for your shoulders to bear. Tucked into the couch and comforted by nasal puffs as your companion drifts in and out of sleep, you’re too exhausted to keep crying but the dry, infrequent sobs persist.

An eternity passes before the dog’s ears perk up and you’re woefully unprepared for the discussion that is to come.

The light from the corridor is blinding. The ghoul is standing at the door, a dark silhouette whose shadow stretches far into the room and almost reaches you. A hand comes up to shield your eyes as you groan.

“Well, well, well.” he sneers and switches the lamp on for you to see the demeaning smirk. His expression as a whole is not kind, Bucky, the wonderful boy, is currently in his spot and Cooper isn’t one for sharing. “See you’ve replaced me already.” he gestures towards the exit, holding the door open, and spits a harsh command. “Get!”

You don’t want to be left alone with this man, preferring to leave along with the dog and it shows by the anxiety burdening your features. The alcohol lingers still, makes your limbs feel like stone as you sit up and rub at your reddened, puffy lids.

Your pulse is already picking up speed when he slumps in the chair opposite to you and lights a cigarette before tilting his head back. The question is readied on the tip of your tongue and you’re irritated because it’s so damnably difficult to voice it. You press an attentive hand to your neck to encourage something to come out while the other sinks into your thigh until the flesh changes color.

“Are you gonna sell me, Mister?” you shoot in between plans on how to approach the matter and let loose a curt breath, relieved that it’s out of your system.

The casual swaying of his knee stops.

He straightens up, abandoning his nonchalant posture to give you a good once-over with the smoke secured between his lips.

You’re an unmistakably macabre sight even under the weak glare of the dying lightbulb. Bloodshot orbs nestled into a saggy face, sucked-in lips framing a ghost of a frown, he couldn’t see how contorted your body was from behind the table, but by the hung shoulders and lowered neck it’s obvious the rest of you isn’t pretty.

There’s a great amount of bourbon missing when he decides to pour himself a glass midway through his examination.

But all those factors can’t compete with the title you’d used to address him.

Mister.

You hadn’t used that since you’d learned his name and it was the first red flag he’d picked up, a warning that something was terribly amiss, that something vital had occurred while he’d been gone and now it’s his turn to have a taste of it.

“I’ve entertained the thought.” he scoffs through a meager smirk. You give him a look that washes away all hues of jokingness, the tiny hint of concern he displays would have been comforting, but you’ve been disturbed to where his crumbs of affection are useless. His hat is tipped to one side, guarding his shifting expression as he asks: “Was goin’ on, Darlin’?”

You want to scream. Yell all that you’ve been told and beg him to assure you none of it is true because, for God’s sake, he’d kissed you the night before and now you know he has a family waiting for him somewhere. You want Mitzie to be the villain who’s causing mischief for the sake of it because he’s your hero and he’s supposed to save the day. Deep down, you know your wishes will go unanswered and maybe that’s why you don’t completely break down before him.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything.

“Are you going to sell me?” you repeat with more force and less uncertainty, fueling yourself with enough malice to keep you from backing out of the confrontation. You won’t falter, you refuse.

“Who you been talkin’ to?”

He’s evasive and it’s tugging at your nerves. Despite your desperation for answers, you decide to at least respond properly, you’re weakhearted unlike him, you’re prone to show sympathy.

“Mitzie.” a hand comes up to rub away the goosebumps on your upper arm and your gaze steers away from his. You’re not keen on putting Mitzie in the spotlight, but you’d rather be truthful, maybe it will push him towards reciprocating. Guilt sprouts in your chest before you curtly remind yourself that you’re not the bad guy here. “She told me a few things…”

His apprehensive visage turns vicious, lanky limbs become taut, and his clothes squeak in strain as he settles into a less open posture. If he’d had any intent on taking down walls to let you in, it had died by the utterance of that name. His lips are pulled back in a nasty snarl.

“Should’a stuffed a bullet down ‘er throat long time ago.”

It’s an insult to you and your intelligence, he’s painted you as gullible while dismissing Mitzie’s credibility without even giving a reason. He doesn’t need to defend his stance, either you believe him or you don’t and you have for the longest time, but when so much information has been thrown at your face regarding him and he can’t even refute the claims, you’re left second-guessing.

“You’d rather kill her than answer my question?” you’re revolted at his savage revelation and it shows in the twisted way your tone lowers. But you're empathetic even to the undeserving and watching him lash out like a cornered animal causes you to soften. “You know I’d trust your word over anyone else’s.” your attempt at reaching past the acidic, gruff exterior he’s hidden behind fails, he’s not interested in being vulnerable or deepening your bond, he’d rather stay a feral simpleton. Another insult, another stab at what you’d thought was a connection in the making. You swallow through a tight gullet, pained beyond belief. “You’re despicable.”

“Watch yer mouth, Missy.” he spits back.

He dares to scold you when he’s in the center of the dilemma. He demands respect when he’s the cause of the anguish poisoning your once hallowed spirit. He’s the problem and he has the audacity to treat you like a misbehaving child.

Angry tears weigh on your lashes, you grit your teeth to strangle a sob that threatens to rob you of all the authority and composure you’ve built.

“You never answered my question.”

The lamp flickers in an ominous prediction of his next words.

“And what if I do?” detached, cold; not a human, but a creature made of melted skin and unfathomable disregard for other beings speaks to you. A spiteful, ugly man who you’d grown to cherish so passionately is throwing bile at you because he’s not the misunderstood morally grey Superman you’d hoped for, he’s just a pile of shit and the best you could do is walk away. He’s terrible and he lets you know by continuing to belittle you and all the love you’d shown him. “Gonna snap outta your teenage dotin’ ‘nd see me the way I am?” with a cruel smile, he shrugs. “Told you I’m rotten, Sweetheart. Didn’t listen, did ya?”

You don’t regret what slips off your tongue next.

He deserves all the despair you’ve felt, the betrayal. You’ve long since drowned in hopelessness, submerged in scenarios of how you’ll go on without him as chances were – he’d probably leave after all this, his persona was unmasked, he had no reason to stick around anymore. He should at least be ashamed of his actions, but to do that one needs to have a conscience and so far he’s not shown signs of any.

You don’t mean to stoop to his level, but his ridicule is just that contagious.

“Janey?” a palpable pause, so thick with dread. You don’t leave it there; you plunge the knife deeper. “Is that really your daughter’s name?”

He’s on you in an instant.

Having lunged out of his chair, he’s squeezing your throat so ferociously you choke. He’s ready to kill and by the way his pupils shrink, he just might.

Demonic above you, forcing you down onto the sofa, he looks like he’ll rip you apart.

“Never say that name again. Ever!”

He’s a nightmare. His devastating grimace will forever stay burned into your memory. But for once you’re ready to fight back and you do so with vigorous hatred.

“Don’t touch me you fucking freak!”

You manage to slide your knees between your bodies and kick him with all your might. For the first time, your actions have an effect, he stumbles back, nearly knocks the table over. You’d thrown him off with such force it surprises both of you. Delicate things can also be fierce. But were you delicate? Not anymore, not like before. The wasteland had taken its toll on you, he had as well. Stripping you of all your beauty, now you were just like the rest of them – cruel, gross, burdened, haunted.

“Don’t ever touch me you manipulative, disgusting, vile – ” you jut a shaky finger at him, longing to berate him all night, but your voice cracks and you shut your mouth as if he hadn’t already seen how shattered you are.

You suck in a tattered breath and stand. The barrel of his pistol points at you as you lean closer, he cocks it without hesitation, but you don’t flinch, instead grabbing for the matches and box of cigarettes he’d left next to his now spilled drink. Maneuvering sluggishly, you sit on the windowsill, facing away as he audibly plops back in the chair and slams his glass into the table before pouring another batch of bourbon. Like drowning in alcohol could fix all this shit…

Typical for him, you’re not surprised.

Never in your life have you lit a match, but you’d rather waste his entire box than ask him for help. You pinch a smoke between your lips, your first and hopefully last, strike the match and it flares to life.

Bitter and chalky, leaves your tongue dry and your head light, a physical manifestation of death, you like the taste and the suffocating fumes that circle your nose despite the open window. You’re supposed to cough and recoil, throw it away because it’s suicide wrapped in paper, instead, you look back and toss the two little boxes to their owner, hoping to hit him.

The night is cold, the chill is pleasant against your skin, it sweeps away a part of the haze you’d been engrossed in during the day.

“You never told me you had a family.” it’s more of a shared thought than a statement; you stare up at the sky, dangling one bare foot into the air until the steady breeze numbs your toes. “Never told me you were looking for them.” your battle zest dissipates as you continue mumbling out the decrepit sorrowful melody of your heart. “Never told me fucking anything…”

“My family ain’t none o’ your concern.” comes a hiss from behind you to deter your scornful moping. You scoff at that, shake your head at your stupid, unwavering faith in him rather than his reply.

You’re still trying to find a spec of goodness after all this, it’s laughable.

“I thought we were friends…or…or partners.” you toss the cigarette bud when the flame scalds your fingers, let the smoke exit your lungs through a heave. “You’re supposed to share with me!” hands obscure your face from the world as you suffer through a few sobs and swallow mouthfuls of tears. “I care for you so much…I’d do anything for you. But you’re just – ”

He’s cruel though, whether screaming and kicking or on your knees crying, it makes no difference to him. He doesn’t care. Did he ever?

“We ain’t no friends.” he states it as the fact it is. “We ain’t nothin’.”

“You’re right…” you nod, giggle even as you wipe your cheeks dry. “Friends don’t sell each other for organ harvesting.”

You never heard the new batch of vials clinking in his coat pocket, didn’t see the freshly stitched scar in the middle of his back, where his kidney used to be. How were you supposed to know when he never told you anything?

So it comes as a surprise when he throws the spare glass and it shatters next to your head and makes you wince. His sudden burst of anger is a mystery and it’s his own fault.

For once he’d been good, for once he’d put someone else before himself and this is what he got.

 “You know what’s really pathetic?” you let go of a bitter laugh, wet and putrid, but it’s shortlived, you return to curling up and mumbling because he doesn’t deserve to know how precious he is to you, but you want to let it all out and be done with this. “The only reason why I’d be sad if you sold me is that I’d be away from you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that…”

A blip of something other than rage or mock, but he’s too late to the party. You’ve already dedicated to demolishing all that he’s poisoned with his touch, all his self-control and stoicism.

“I’d rather die by your hand than be taken away.” you glimpse down at the shards scattered next to your thigh to find your reflection in much the same state - broken. “I’m a coward, I guess. I never wanted this life…but I’m too scared to end it myself.”

Crack

Crack

The glass shatters in his hand, the only reminder left of the paradise from the night before, he’d broken both of them, first yours, then his. The pieces spread, deftly falling to the floor as the bourbon drips from the edge of the table.

 “Good night, Mister.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 10 >>>

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@sgt-barnesveins @alastorsw1f3 @villainofmyownstory @thatcutewerewolf

[whousestypewriters]

i'm here - joey lynch x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

warnings: flufffffff, swearing + a lil angst

a/n: BELLE BELLE BELLE DO YOU SEE ME?? IM WRITING JOEY LYNCH FICS FOR YOU!! LOVE YOU POOKIE <33 (i've kept this surprisingly spoiler free as well!!) also pls ignore my delusional ass over here writing fics late at night-

joey lynch is a protector.

its his way of being. he's been that way all his life. constantly looking after his siblings when their parents couldn't.

so you take it upon yourself to be joey's protector - much to his disgruntlement.

so when you find the space next to you on your bed empty and cold. you know he's having nightmares again.

fighting with your very sleepy brain - which should shut up by the way - you roll out of bed, wrap a discarded blanket from your shrek movie marathon earlier and go in search for joey.

the nightmares aren't a regular thing - not anymore at least, that you are very grateful for - but when they do plague joey he falls into the downward spiral of think he's not good enough for you. which of course is absolute nonsense.

pulling the blanket tighter around you, you slip out through the balcony door and out into the crisp night where a shirtless and haunted looking joe sits with his head in his hands on a half broken chair - curtsey of the hotel you were staying in.

"hey you," you say softly approaching him. you're eyes definitely don't stray down to his bare chest... not at allllll.

joey's head snaps up, noticing you for the first time. "hey, what are you doing out here? go back to bed baby."

shaking your head you determinedly open the blanket and wrap it around him wincing at the coldness of his skin. how long has he been out here?

"nahh, if you're out here so am i."

joey already knowing that there is no point in arguing with you, stands up and picks you up bridal style, blanket and all bringing you back inside and gently places you back on your bed before closing the door again.

he busies himself fixing the duvet cover and pillows on the bed ignoring the knowing looks you're sending him.

"joe."

he looks at you. "y/n."

"do you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"joe."

he's quiet for a bit probably contemplating what he should tell you.

"it was the same one." his voice is quiet, soft. you know joey doesn't like talking about these dreams so you don't push it. "but different this time." he takes a deep breath and looks at you with resigned eyes. "i lost you. cause of the... cause of the...."

"i know," you whisper. unwrapping yourself from the blanket, rounding the bed and coming to stand in front of the broken boy in front of you.

"but hey," your eyes fill with tears as you look at the defeated look in his eyes. he really believes that it could be true. he really believes that you would- could leave him. "i'm here. and i'm not going anywhere. joe- joe look at me." when he refuses you step closer between his legs and cup his face. "joseph lynch, you look at me."

joey's pained eyes meet yours and your heart breaks for him. for the amount of shit he's been through. for all the years he had no one to turn to. now he has you, and you have every intention of making sure that joey lynch is fucking loved and cared for.

"i love you. and it would take a very very very big group of people to take me away from you- even then don't get your hopes up because believe it or not joey there is something in my soul that is connected to yours and in every life time, every life time i will find you." you press a soft kiss to his forehead. "so don't even think for one second that i'm going to leave you. you're my joey. and i don't plan on giving you up. so im sorry but you're kinda stuck with me."

joey's eyes shine with barely restrained love as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, squeezing your waist tightly.

"i love you baby," he whispers against your midriff. "so much."

running your hands through his blonde hair you press a kiss to his head, "love you too baby."

you stay that way for a while, joey wrapped tightly around you and you pressing soft kisses to his head until joey leans back taking you with him.

"joey!" you laugh toppling over on top of him.

"yes?" he hums as he adjusts you both so you're facing each other with your legs intertwined.

"nothing," you smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, his green eyes shining beautifully in the moonlight.

joey grins and pulls you closer by the waist pressing a soft, yearning kiss to your lips.

you both fall asleep to your hushed whispers in the dark, promises and loving kisses.

"love you baby..."

[taglist] @lxvebelle

a/n pt2: THE WAY I NEED ME SOME JOEY LYNCH IS UNFORGIVABLE sleep delusion reaaaally got to me at the end there- hope you liked it babes <33

[stellamancer]

considerate (reader x satoru gojo)

notes: blah blah blah comfort fic. lmaoo. um, i love steamed buns. i bought some frozen pizza buns from my local japanese grocery store during the writing process. they are indeed good. if you have never had them i hope you get to try one day.

contains: f!reader (inferred to be wearing lingerie), tsundere-ish reader, eating food, gojo. part of the infinite loop fic verse

wc: 2k || read on ao3 (account required)

All you want to do is sleep.

It’s been a rough week— three difficult missions back to back with no time to rest in between. By the time you’d finished the last one, you were practically dead on your feet. It’s times like these that you’re glad for the room you have on the campus of Jujutsu High; you think you’ll collapse before you can make it back to your actual apartment.

In fact, you almost do anyway– you’re barely through the door of your room when the exhaustion tries to take you by force. It takes every fiber of your being to at least shed your curse-stained clothes before you become one with the bed.

Your sleep is blissfully empty.

And it ends far too soon.

A loud series of knocks forces you from your slumber. You groan and pull the pillow over your head as if it’ll make the sound stop, but it doesn’t. After a few minutes of constant, incessant banging, you finally give up and crawl out of bed.

There’s only one person you know who would relentlessly pound someone’s door and when you throw your door open you find him— Satoru Gojo on the other side. He’s dressed casually, comfortably in sweats and a hoodie, for a day off, sporting tinted glasses instead of that blindfold he likes so much.

“What?” you demand.

Gojo peers at you over the top of his glasses, lips twitching as if he’s trying not to smile. “You need a minute?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The smile finally makes its way onto his face and you can’t help but feel annoyed. Gojo points at you with a long, slender finger and says. “Matching set, huh?”

It’s then that you realize that you are only wearing your underwear.

Embarrassment surges through your body. You had forgotten that you hadn’t bothered changing into any sort of sleepwear— you’d only taken off your dirty clothes. Mortified, you slam the door in Gojo’s face.

If thoughts could kill, one of you would be dead on the floor right now; you haven’t quite decided who yet.

You shuffle around your room and throw on the first set of comfortable clothes you can find. Just as you’re fitting your head through the sweatshirt you hear him knock again.

“I’m still out here!” he hollers.

“Get lost!” you snap.

“But I brought food!” he whines. “I brought steamed buns!”

His words make you pause. When was the last time you ate? Yesterday morning? You don’t feel particularly hungry, but that could be because you just woke up.

“They’re getting cold!”

You weigh your options. Accepting food from Gojo is far from the worst thing in the world. It also saves you the effort of going to find something; it’s your day off, and the less you have to move the better.

With a heavy sigh, you finish dressing before opening the door again. The second Gojo comes into view, he beams at you and holds up a plastic bag from FamilyMart. You reach for it, but he raises it up, keeping it out of your grasp.

“Now, now,” he tuts as if he is reprimanding an overeager child. “I was thinking we could share. There’s way too many for one person, don’t you think?”

You don’t know how many steamed buns are in there, but you’ve seen Gojo eat: you know he could polish off that whole bag. Honestly, you probably could too. “Wanna bet?”

Gojo grins. “Sure. If you can’t finish them all then you have to spend the entire day with me.”

Not the way you’d want to spend your day off. “And if I can?”

“Then you get to have all the steamed buns I bought!” he says cheerfully. “Awesome prize, right?”

You scowl. “No, that's a shit prize and you know it.”

“Okay then, what kind of prize would you prefer?” There’s something ominous about the way Gojo’s looking at you right now; he’s smiling but you feel almost as if you’re looking at some sort of feral predator. Letting you choose your own prize sounds like some sort of trap and you wouldn't put it past him to twist whatever you choose to suit his own agenda.

“...can I think about it while I eat?” you ask.

“Sure.” Gojo shoots you a knowing smile, fully aware of the fact that you're just trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of whatever he's scheming. He hands you the bag of steamed buns and pushes past you into your room, settling himself against the wall opposite your bed.

You peer into the shopping bag and even though he said he’d brought steamed buns there’s other stuff in the bag. Some other miscellaneous snacks, candy and a few bottles of water and Gojo’s favorite brand of cola. A little excessive, but then again, everything about Gojo is excessive. You fish out the paper bag holding your food and hand the rest to Gojo before plopping back onto your bed. Knowing who bought them, you expect to find only red bean buns and custard buns in the paper bag; after all, his sweet tooth knows no bounds. But, to your surprise, there’s actually a bit of variety. You recognize the smooth tops of what are either red bean buns or custard buns, but also the crimped tops of what are likely pork buns as well as…

“Pizza buns…?” you mutter quietly, fishing one from the bag. Similar to the pork buns, they have a crimped top, but instead of a pale off white of a regular pork bun, the bread is a pale orange color.

Gojo chuckles and you look up at him. There's a cocky grin plastered to his face. “They are your favorite, aren't they?”

You gawk at him, heartbeat stuttering a little in your chest. He’s right; they are your favorite, but you’ve only ever mentioned it a handful of times.

It’s… surprising that he even remembered.

Gojo always manages to catch you off-guard when he remembers the little things like this. It really shouldn’t surprise you; he’s the same way with his students, and yet…

Your heart skips yet another set of beats.

“Did you finally fall in love with me?” he asks, sounding infinitely amused.

His question reminds you that, surprisingly thoughtful or not, Satoru Gojo still remains to be the most annoying man in existence. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, if you say so…” His tone makes it clear that he doesn't believe you and you know better than to try and convince him otherwise; Gojo can be as delusional as he wants. “Better eat up before they get all sad and cold!”

“Yeah, yeah…” You grumble. “Thanks again.”

You shove the pizza bun in your mouth. It's the perfect temperature: hot but not enough to scald your tongue. You finish it in a few bites and grab another. From the looks of it, there's probably a little over a dozen steamed buns in the bag. You think that's doable as you polish off your second bun (a juicy pork bun).

As you start to eat the third (a cheese curry bun), you notice Gojo staring at you over the top of his glasses. His eyes, unnaturally bright and blue as always bore into you; and something about his gaze is almost expectant, waiting— for what you don’t really know. It’s kind of weird, honestly, you would have expected him to play with his phone or whatever, not just… watch you eat. Without averting your gaze, you slowly take a bite into the steamed bun.

Gojo continues to watch you.

Creepy.

You keep staring back at him as you finish the third bun and you don’t break eye contact as you reach in for another one. Gojo continues to watch you, his expression focused. You’re starting to get a little unnerved now. It doesn’t even seem like he’s blinking. You shift a little to the left and his eyes follow the movement.

Halfway through the fourth bun (a custard bun), you decide to finally say something. “Do you have to stare?”

Gojo snickers, mischievous. That never means anything good. “Yeah? I mean, I have to make sure you eat them all, don’t I?”

“...do you think I’m going to shove them in my shirt and hide them or something?”

For a split second, his expression falters, the briefest look of shock crossing his features before he snorts. “You’re welcome to try, but it’s an automatic loss if you do!”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. No way that you’re going to waste perfectly good steamed buns. That just means you’ll have to ignore Gojo’s incessant starting.

Which turns out to be easier said than done.

After your fifth bun, you’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Almost like you’re an animal in a zoo. Not only that, but you’ve noticed that Gojo’s been slowly moving closer. He started over against the wall, but now he’s practically at your feet, staring up at you. HIs pupils are blown wide and it’s almost like he’s staring into your soul.

You stop eating.

You wait for Gojo to say something, some smartass remark or tease you about being full or something.

He says nothing.

Gojo only continues to stare at you, silent as his eyes look impossibly bigger. It doesn’t just look like he’s begging for one of the steamed buns, but for something else. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you try to figure out what it could possibly be. With each second, the thumping grows louder and louder and Gojo seems to be moving closer and closer despite being still firmly planted to the ground.

Is it you that’s inching toward him now?

The realization startles you. Why would you even—? Panicked, you reach into the bag and pull out a bun at random and shove it in Gojo’s face. He makes a surprised sound but it’s muffled by the bun.

“Just take one already!” you exclaim, pressing it to his mouth as hard as you can without smashing it to pieces. It occurs to you that he might gloat about you feeding him by hand but you’ll deal with that later. You need to get him to stop looking at you like that now.

He laughs, triumphant as he removes the bun from your grasp and takes a big, big bite out of it. “Looks like I win. As usual.”

You merely grumble, watching as he polishes off the steamed bun in no time flat. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers and you hand him another. It’s fine. Just because you can finish all these steamed buns doesn’t mean that you should.

As for having to spend the entire day with Gojo… You try to look on the bright side and tell yourself that there are worse fates out there. After all, you could be working.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Gojo asks mid-bite.

“I don’t really wanna do much of anything,” you grouse. You suppose it’s nice of Gojo to ask, when you know the reality is that you’ll be at the mercy of his whims for the rest of the day. Mentally, you brace yourself to be dragged around Tokyo, shopping or whatever it is he likes to do on his time off.

Gojo chuckles softly and the sound of it makes your stomach drop. You don’t like it. Something about it is dangerous. “Okay, let’s just stay here then, play a video game or something.”

You can’t help but stare at him. Then you think of the snacks and drinks he brought along and the fact that he’s dressed more for lounging than going out. You wouldn’t put it past Gojo to intend to occupy your entire day, but could it be that he planned to just hang out in your room the entire time? Playing video games or watching movies because he figured you wouldn’t have the energy to go anywhere.

No.

There’s no way that the most selfish and annoying man you know is that considerate.

Gojo tilts his head to the side and offers you a gentle smile, eyes glimmering behind his glasses. You swallow thickly, nervously, ignoring the odd feeling in your chest. There’s just no way.

No way at all.

after many hours of playing video games with gojo you muster the energy to tell him you want to go out to eat. he pays. it's not a date (it's so totally a date).

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ falling out of love with skz ( first pov version )

✰ pairings: ot8!skz x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, heartbreak

✰ warnings: heartbreak, guilt, falling out of love, sad, unedited ( i wrote this before i go to sleep ), based on real life events.

✰ word count: 1.8k + words

౨₊ৎ chan

falling out of love, but why is it? is it because i don’t read your texts no longer? or is it because that the mere sight of you no longer has been jumping on my feet? like that heart that used to skip a beat, tell me baby, did we not love each other? you were the muse to each of my poetries, you were the lover but i’m still disheartened by the fact that i couldn’t be. i made it out. i removed you from my life, to those little gifts you gave from your clothes that i had— all of them. and maybe, just maybe a part of me did get removed as well. snatched away and lost in the process. but i don’t need your help in getting it back. because i know that if i do, history would repeat itself. i would fall for you over and over. but… you wouldn’t. it’s been a hard month to try not to look at your socials, to see if you’re just as miserable as me or not. it’s been hard to try not to unblock you and keep re-reading our texts all day long. it’s been hard to not think of you. because my love i hate the fact that i still want you after all that happened, but you don’t. but i can’t love you like this, not anymore. i keep picking myself apart and framing together the left fragments of us. but there’s no us anymore, is there? i don’t want to pretend any longer. i missed you. i loved you. but i keep forgetting the fact that maybe i no longer do. or maybe i’m just getting better at pretending? all i do know is, i don’t think i know how to love you anymore.

౨₊ৎ minho

i may have forgotten the reason, but i loved you once. i truly did with all of my heart. falling in love was hard. it felt restricted, constrained and suffocating. but falling out of love? that was even harder. with each sun rise, i feel myself drifting apart from you. it’s like i don’t even know you anymore! i wish i could go back to the time where i asked you about your favourite colours or maybe your favourite movies or your favourite songs, but i can’t. we are no longer lovers. nor are we friends. we are strangers with memories. strangers who once crossed paths. we walk past each other and it’s like i don’t even know you, like i’ve never met you. i’ve seen our pictures on my phone and i question what went wrong? but maybe we were just habits and we thought we’d always have it? guess not. it’s the way i know you’re no longer around, but everything reminds me of you. is it the scent of your lingering perfume on the pillow covers? or maybe it’s your half-empty coffee mix? if promises were meant to be broken, i accomplished them. i am sorry for all the late nights that i whispered to you telling you that i’ll always love you. i’m sorry for all the times i couldn’t be there when you wanted me to. i’m sorry for all the times that i failed to understand you when you were just trying to protect me. i’m sorry for learning how to unlove you. i’m sorry min. i truly am.

౨₊ৎ changbin

remember when you said that we have forever? then why does it feel like our time’s already over? it started not so long ago, then why? was it written in fate already? or did we make it happen? i remember the time we held hands and shared umbrellas. i remember the time where we’d talk for hours. i remember the time when you first kissed me, then why am i still waiting for a proper goodbye? i wish you would break me at once, so i wouldn’t have to feel guilty for loving you a little lesser everyday. i wish you weren’t so perfect that i didn’t have to find excuses to avoid you. i wish you would snap my heart in half, crumble to pieces and throw away the broken fragments, so i don’t have to feel like i’m in the wrong. for once, just let me escape the reality. for once, please don’t love me. for once, please forget me. for once, let me go. for once and for all, forgive me for not trying to love you harder. i don’t know where it all went wrong. i wish i could turn back the time and erase myself from your memories, so you won’t even think of me or the pain that i caused you. i may be the villain of your story, but i too was once the protagonist.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

i wonder if you ever noticed when i stopped telling you my secrets. i wonder if you ever noticed that i stopped bringing home your favourite packet of chips. i wonder if you noticed that i began tensing up whenever you hugged me. i wonder if you ever even noticed the way my soul began detangling from you. and when you tucked my hair behind my ear, it didn’t leave a trail of fire like it did before. my body— it stopped reacting to you the way it did before. and i wonder, why you never said anything. because you noticed it. you noticed every single thing yet you stayed quiet right by my side. it’s the way i began hating you for making me feel guilty. but it always did feel better to blame others, didn’t it? would you mind if i sat next to you but didn’t smile? would you mind if i ask you what you liked once again? because i didn’t want it to end. you were the most beautiful dream that i ever experienced, yet now i can’t even recognise the beat of your heart. i realized that i fell out of love when i could no longer guess what you wanted. or maybe that time when i couldn’t bring myself to even kiss you. baby, where did it go? help me. help me get it back. falling out of love with you is a nightmare and i wish i could wake up.

౨₊ৎ han

i had all that i wanted, and then none. from the perfect life, to a fallen apart one. nothing stays for too long. and i wish i let go of everything a bit sooner. so it would hurt me less whenever i see you. it would hurt me less whenever i hear someone mention you. your letters, they still rest in my drawers. your rings, they still fit on me. except they feel too cold. i no longer wear them for an entire day without feeling the urge to throw it. but i don’t want that to happen, so instead i keep it locked away in a box. but the key, it’s with you. so i can’t bring myself to open it. many people told me that i have changed. but i truly wonder, have i? or is it just the fact they can’t fathom that i no longer love you like i did before? it may be my fault for it all, i’m the one to blame. but i tried my best to stop myself, to stop these unwanted feelings and in the end i broke your heart. i still remember that look on your face when you held me tight for one last time. goodbyes weren’t the best, but i wish it was. so i didn’t have to live everyday thinking that i killed your spark from the inside.

౨₊ৎ felix

i wish i could go back to the time where i didn’t have to think thrice before waking you when you couldn’t sleep. i hoped that i could’ve told it all to you sooner, but how could i have predicted that unfortunate ending? loving you was beautiful, delicate and everlasting. until it wasn’t. falling out of love was harsh but slow. the flowers have begun withering, i noticed. do you not water them? or is it because they remind you of me? i know what you’re trying to do. i’ve tried it as well. but it didn’t work. i tried erasing you and everything related to you. but at the end of the day it’s the way my phone’s lock screen still has your face. your number, it’s untouched. and perhaps if someone were to ask me about my favourite movie, without hesitation i would reply with the texts we sent, the little date vlogs we made. call it guilt or call it lost love. the time spent with you gave me happiness, and i called that love.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

i knew you were hurting. so maybe i should’ve applied bandages to your aching heart. i knew you were hurting when i began replacing our memories. was there something that i could’ve done to make your heart heal faster? but i knew it couldn’t replace the pain i’ve caused you. i used to tell the moon about you, now the stars await to hear my stories. i used to have that stupid grin on my face whenever you called me, now we stopped meeting. and it kills me to know how you’ve been living all this long after knowing that the one who you loved broke your heart. it hurts me too when you agree to everything and anything i say. is that how much you love me? that you’re even willing to be vulnerable in front of me? if given another chance i would fall in love with you over and again till i can’t escape it. i want to trapped, engulfed in your love just like you are in mine.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

my heart breaks at all the possibilities we could have been. it breaks even more every time i remember you wanting to start a family with me in future. i ended it all at once, didn’t i? i wonder how i could be lifeless that now a single tear falls while you cry for me. i wonder how i could be so lifeless that i forgot you’re my other half. i want to experience that spark of sleeping and waking to your texts once more. i want to experience being called ‘my princess’ for the rest of life. but it’s the way that we don’t even talk. we blocked each other from our lives, it was for the good. then why am i having sleepless nights filled with remorse? is this the part of moving on? or is it the part of moving back? because my ship seems to be sailing in the wrong direction. so my love, don’t pray for me anymore. the moon won’t listen.

[wrestletotheground]

settle down - ross macdonald x reader

summary: you and ross are staying in your old house with your family for the weekend, but you find it hard to keep quiet when everyone's asleep...

wc: 1.9k

cw: 18+ minors dni!!! f!reader, angst, fluff, smut, dom!ross, 'good girl', fingering, gagging, slight degradation, choking kink, d word bc i can't help myself, spit, general filth tbh x

'i can't believe i'm actually about to sleep in the bed you grew up in,' ross says, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulls off his tshirt, climbing into bed beside you. 'I can't believe you've spent the day with my insane parents and are willing to stay here for two whole nights', you reply with a giggle.

your parents had been tormenting you to have him over for dinner ever since you moved in together a month ago, claiming you were both in need of a decent meal and a break from dirty dishes.

you'd finally agreed to go back and stay for the weekend. obviously ross got on well with your family as they'd met countless times before, but having him stay over, sleeping in your childhood room, feels daunting. as if it's the final layer he has to go through to know every part of you inside and out.

your parents are well asleep by now, having gone upstairs just before you and ross. with the emptiness in the living room, you'd straddled his lap, grinding into him softly as you littered kisses down his neck.

his heavy breathing was an indicator of how worked up he was getting, although it was less sexual and more passionate, a simple display of your love for each other. shortly after, you'd both gone up to get ready for bed, lovesick and giggly.

~

darkness floods the room with a click as you turn off the old pink lamp beside your bed.

'goodnight baby,' you say to ross as he presses a loving kiss to your temple. 'night sweetheart,' he murmurs, letting his hand fall down to your stomach as he settles his head into the pillow beside you. the warmth of his body is comforting and strong beside you, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

a wave of intense emotion starts to take over as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. the nostalgia of being in the room you grew up in is making your head flood with memories of long sleepless nights spent in this exact place. many a night were filled with tears and hopelessness, going through things no young girl should ever even have to think about. you're doing so much better now, having created a new life and a new home for yourself with your perfect fiancé. your eyes brim with fresh tears as you lie mourning the lost teenager that once sat here. you wish you could give her a hug and tell her that it truly does get better.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before shakily placing your hand over ross's, needing him close to you. the feeling of him beside you relaxes you, it always does. you can't help the flutter of arousal that runs through you at the pressure of his hand weighing down on your lower abdomen.

his eyes open suddenly, flicking up towards you. you didn't even think he was still awake with how sleepy he'd been only moments beforehand. you snap your eyes shut, as if that would trick him.

'baby, are you okay? what's wrong?' he asks sleepily. he props himself up on his elbow and brings a hand to your face to caress your cheek gently.

you turn to face him. 'yeah, I'm just- it's okay, don't worry, I'll be fine. just need you close to me'. 'darling, what's up? talk to me'. his voice is laced with concern and you silently curse his ability to read you like a book at all times.

'I was just.. thinking about how happy I am now, compared to how it was when I was younger. I used to think I was- I don't know, broken. but everything has gotten better since I met you, and not to be too sappy but I'm so glad I get to make happier memories here with the love of my life'.

'god you're making me emotional too, love,' he smiles and kisses you gently. 'I love you, and im so glad we found each other.' you look into his eyes adoringly and smile. 'i love you too', you reply.

you settle down into each other, ross lying on his side with his arm across you. the ache between your legs is still there, but you decide to close your eyes and try get some sleep.

until his hand begins to rub up and down your thigh, inching further and further up with each stroke before he rests it on your hip, fingertips rubbing in light circular motions dangerously close to where you need him.

you need him to fuck you so badly, but the risk of being heard is so high. you know you wouldn't be able to control yourself with the way you melt into him as he worships you.

'mmh ross, we can't, not here', you mumble, instinctively leaning into his touch despite your words. 'why not?' he asks, smirking up at you as he presses light kisses down your neck. 'i want to but my parents are next door, the walls in this house are like paper.'

he lifts his head up, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear. 'well you'll have to be quiet then won't you, love?' he whispers, dipping his hand under the waistband of your underwear. you exhale sharply as his fingers graze over your clit, instantly making you wet. 'fuck,' you breathe, squeezing your thighs in around his hand. 'ah ah, you're gonna take it like a good girl aren't you?' he says softly, grabbing your leg closest to him and pulling it up over his to give him more access.

you writhe under him as his two middle fingers continue to swipe lazily up and down, stopping suddenly. 'aren't you?' he says again, his eyes stern. 'yes- mmh- i'll be good,' you whimper desperately, earning a grunt of approval. 'there we go, relax darling, let me look after you', he replies.

the endless band posters and picture frames that cover the walls seem to be watching on in silent judgement, making you hyper aware of where you are. to be honest, the immorality and risk of it all is just making you more turned on, more desperate for him than ever.

he traces your soaked entrance teasingly before slipping his middle finger in to the knuckle, making you gasp, your back arching into him. 'shh, you said you'd be good,' he mutters, curling his finger inside you and stroking upwards. your eyes roll into your head at the heavenly sensation.

he doesn't waste time before adding another and you can't help the sound that spills from your throat, louder than you expected. he stills inside you, your slick dripping down his fingers. your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his eyes, looking down at you with a heavy gaze.

'if you're not quiet I'll give you something to whine about and we don't want that do we?' he's practically growling at you, making you like putty in his hands. 'n-no, please, daddy' you whine under your breath. the magic word. his breath hitches and his eyes roll back into his head. 'fuck, there's my girl', he whispers, his eyes snapping back to yours instantly.

with that, he starts moving in and out, dipping his fingers in as deep as they can go and drawing them back again in quick, fluid motions. obscene sounds break the silence of the room, barely noticeable above the haze of pleasure taking over your body.

your walls pulse around him, enhancing the feeling even more. he throws his right leg up over yours, holding your legs open for him. he curls his fingers inside you, using his thumb at the same time to press into your clit, hard. you have to hold your breath to suppress the scream that's lingering in the back of your throat, coming out in a pathetic barely audible whimper as you exhale.

his other hand creeps around the back of your head, never slowing his rhythm between your thighs. he reaches your mouth and covers it tightly with his whole palm, muffling any more noises you would've let out. suddenly he shoves three digits into your mouth, making you gag as they hit the back of your throat. you close your lips around them and start sucking, swirling your tongue around and coating him in spit, never breaking eye contact. he groans softly, flashbacks filling his mind of how your mouth feels around his cock.

your mouth hangs open as he hits the deep part inside you and your eyebrows furrow, hips bucking into his hand in time with his movements. he's fucking you hard and fast, pinning you to the mattress.

'ross, I can't - mfh- fuck, i'm -' you start, although it comes out muffled and strained around his fingers that are still deep in your mouth. the vibration of your voice goes straight through his hand, the sensation making him feral.

'one more fucking word from you and you're never going to finish do you hear me?' he whispers aggressively, eyes stern. you nod your head in silent response, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

he takes his fingers out of your mouth, dragging his soaked hand down to your neck and presses in on either side just below your jaw, all the while his fingers are working you to your core. you bite your lip as you gaze up at him, completely at his mercy and loving every second of it.

he reaches a particularly deep spot inside you that makes your stomach coil. your head is spinning, face scrunched up in excruciating pleasure, on the brink of the peak you've been desperately chasing as his strokes get quicker and more precise.

'please...' it's barely a whisper, more of a breathy plea for him to let you come. 'let go. let me fucking feel you all over me. pretty. little. slut.' each word is punctuated by a hard thrust into you, the final one sending you over the edge.

your vision turns to white and you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming, your hips rolling into his hand as you ride out your high. his hand that's now drenched, warm honey dripping down onto his palm.

you exhale sharply as he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up in front of you and spreading the two middle ones that were curling inside you moments ago. a wet string of your arousal connects them at the knuckle and you watch him dazedly. he drags them almost reluctantly towards his mouth, as if he didn't want to stop looking, and runs his tongue up the wide v shape, collecting your juices into his mouth.

it's a filthy sight that leaves you awestruck. he smirks at you as you lie gazing at him, being broken out of your lustful trance when he leans in to kiss you. as soon as your lips part his mouth is hovering above yours as he taps your jaw lightly. you open your mouth wider and he takes his chance to slowly spit into your mouth. the taste of the two of you is warm and feral and addictive.

he whispers again, breath ghosting over your lips. 'good girl'. you're too flustered to respond with words, so you slide your hand up around the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. tongues moving languidly against each other. it's loving and soft, a stark contrast to what he was like moments ago, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

~

[sacredsnape]

Could you do a one shot for Remus please, after a full moon he doesn’t come back home immediately and reader is just worried and when he does come back he snaps at her because he’s tired, she gets hurt, gives him silent treatment but still tend to his wounds then cries and he hears her

I love this request, it has me in my feels 🥲

Genre: angst/fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood

Masterlist

Remus wasn't home yet.

He usually returned home the morning after the full moon, but now it was nearing noon, and you were worried sick.

"Remus?" you called every time you stepped outside, hoping to see him. You and him lived in a cottage near the woods he'd run into to transform, so it only made sense that he'd appear there.

You eventually just sat outside on the front porch to wait, your leg bouncing with nerves. You felt hot tears well up in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks, falling onto your shirt.

Suddenly, the bushes lining the woods rustled. You quickly stood up, grabbing your wand just in case before crying out in relief when Remus stumbled out of the bushes.

"Remus!" you cried, running over to your boyfriend. He was in bad shape; he was more scratched up than usual and had a nasty gash on his arm that was still bleeding heavily.

"Oh, Remus," you sobbed softly as you reached him, opening your arms to hug him, "I thought I'd lost you-"

"Don't fucking touch me," Remus snapped. Your heart dropped. You stood back, staring at him in shock. "Leave me alone, Y/N."

Remus brushed past you, limping towards your cottage. You didn't move, your heart hammering as an icy shock coursed through you.

What did you do wrong? You greeted him the same way you did every time he came home, so why did he snap at you?

More tears filled your eyes, but they weren't tears of relief anymore. You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat as you entered the cottage, following Remus's trail of blood to the bathroom.

You found him already submerged in the bathtub, the water up to his chin. He didn't look at you as you walked in, his eyes trained on the water surrounding him, which had turned dark red.

"Remus," you tried again, a little desperate this time. "Why are you-"

"Stop it," he cut in, his voice gruff as he dragged the sponge across his muddy, bloodstained arms. "Just stop it, okay?"

Remus couldn't bring himself to look at you. He knew that you were crying, judging by your shuddering breaths and sharp inhales, and he felt extremely guilty. He had been in a terrible fight with another werewolf and was far too exhausted to talk to you right now.

Despite your anger and hurt, you huffed, sitting down on the edge of the tub and snatching the sponge from Remus. He still didn't look at you, causing your heart to break even more.

You reached for the bottle of body wash and squirted more of it onto the sponge. You began to wash Remus, being careful with the deep wound on his arm. The two of you sat in stony silence that was only interrupted by the gentle splashing of water and your sniffling.

After the bath, you helped Remus dry off and dress. You cleaned and dried his wounds, bandaging them with care. You then drained the water in the tub and threw the dirty towels into the laundry. Finally, you gave Remus his healing potions. He didn't thank you, simply drinking them and then handing you back the empty vials.

Remus went to bed. You went to the living room and cried your eyes out into the cushions on the sofa. You felt miserable, your mind racing as you wondered what, if anything, you had done wrong.

Maybe he was cheating on you. You'd seen the way other women looked at him whenever you two went out together. You couldn't blame them; Remus was indeed very handsome, but he was yours, unless all that attention from other women was starting to peak his interest.

The cushion you had your face buried in smelled like Remus. Chocolate, coffee, and cinnamon. You let out an angry sob and hurled the pillow across the living room, watching through teary eyes as it knocked down a photo of you and him from the mantelpiece.

The glass frame shattered on the hardwood floor. You winced at the unpleasant noise, standing on wobbly legs to investigate what you had done. The photo was of you and Remus on your first date exactly a year ago today. It sat lopsided in the shards of glass, and you cautiously bent down to pick it up, gasping when a sharp corner nicked your finger.

Cradling your bleeding finger, you looked at the photo. You were sitting on Remus's lap, his big arms secured around your waist. The photo moved, showing you laughing at some corny joke you'd heard, while Remus smiled at you with so much kindness and warmth on his face. You two had been at a friend's party, you having ended up on his lap after a dare made by said friend. You remembered how flustered you had felt in that moment, especially after feeling your now boyfriend's bulge brushing against your bare skin in your skirt.

Remus was your lover. He always had been and always will be, even if you were pissed at him, and he was ignoring you.

You had to fix this. With more sobs leaving you, you impulsively gathered up the broken glass in the air with your wand. They levitated before you, and you were halfway to the kitchen to put the frame back together, when your wand slipped from your trembling hand and the glass fell, shattering further.

Some of it cut you mid-fall, and you gave up, slumping onto the kitchen counter with your face buried in your arms as you wept, your cries echoing around the small kitchen.

You screamed in surprise when you suddenly felt large, warm hands pulling you up. The hands turned you to face their owner, and you saw Remus standing before you, his face and voice etched with genuine concern.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing? There's glass all over the floor. Your hands are all cut up too," Remus spoke softly, cradling your tear-stained face in his bandaged hands.

You struggled to catch your breath, your words slurring slightly as you tearfully asked, "Who is it, Remus? Who are you cheating on me with? Is it Madam Rosmerta?!"

Remus stared at you for a moment before laughing, shaking his head. "Madam Rosmerta? Dove, what are you talking about? I'm not cheating on you with anybody. You're my only love."

"Then why have you been ignoring me ever since you got home?" you sobbed, burying your face in his chest out of habit. The soft fabric of his cardigan nuzzled your cheek, and you whimpered and held onto him tightly.

"Love, I'm so sorry," Remus sighed as he rubbed soothing circles into your back, embracing you. "I'm just tired. I got into a bad fight with another werewolf. I shouldn't have snapped at you or ignored you, though. There's no excuse for my behavior. I'm so very sorry, my baby."

You whimpered again. Remus gently kissed the top of your head, looking around at the glass all over the floor. He noticed the photo and put two and two together, squeezing you.

"How did the photo break?" Remus softly asked you, continuing to rub your back. You shook your head, refusing to answer in fear that he'd get mad at you.

Remus squeezed you again. "It's okay if you broke it," he promised.

You sighed and finally looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. You loved Remus no matter what and he seemed to feel the same, as he kissed you deeply and held you closer.

"It's okay, darling. You're okay. Let me take care of you," Remus soothed. He pulled away to grab bandages from a cabinet, keeping his hand on your hip. You giggled as he cleaned and bandaged the cuts on your hands, his lips grazing your forehead.

"There we go. We're both going to end up looking like mummies with all these bandages if we get any more injuries," Remus chuckled quietly, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, hooking your arms around the back of his neck.

"For what?" Remus mumbled as his lips wandered down to your neck, kissing you there.

"I don't know."

Remus laughed against your neck, the vibration of his voice slightly ticklish. "Then don't say sorry if you don't know what to be sorry for," Remus said lightly. "In fact, you have no reason to be sorry. I'm the only one who should be sorry."

"But I forgive you," you answered meekly, wiping your eyes. "I'm not mad at you anymore."

Remus leaned up to kiss your lips, his lips soft and warm against yours. "That doesn't mean I've forgiven myself. I feel terrible for making my girl cry."

"I'm okay now," you insisted, despite tears continuing to leak from your eyes. Remus wiped your tears away with his thumbs, humming lowly.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hugged you flush to his body.

You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling him smile against your neck.

"Just talk to me next time," you sighed, pecking the side of his head. "You know I'm always here to listen to you and take care of you."

You felt his smile grow. "That I can do, my love," Remus said. "I promise."

[according2thelore]

oh DAMN this au is so insanely good. thank you for blessing us all with your writing.

i think LS sam proposes the foursome during sex and of course LS dean agrees but he thinks it’s just, like, dirty talk. he doesn’t give it a second thought afterwards.

then the next night at dinner sammy just puts down his wine glass like :) so dean and I were talking and we think we should all hook up :) and LS dean just CHOKES

HAHAHA you are so correct!! i am going to add a split for nsft!

dean's going to fucking die.

sammy is beneath him, head pressed to his forearms on the bed and ass in the air, legs spread wide and dangerous, thick cock hanging heavy between his legs.

dean is thrusting into him, and bends over his back so he can bite at the back of sammy's neck--just like the fucker likes. their sweat makes their skin stick, then glide, and dean is going to fucking die.

sam is so hot, so fucking wet. his ass is better than heaven, and dean would fucking know. sam grabs at dean's hair and pulls him even closer so they can tangle their tongues messily, barely catching each other in a kiss. dean has to change his thrusts to a slow grind, little shallow half-circles so deep that sam's eyes roll a little behind heavy-lidded eyes.

"god, i want to do this with them," sam breathes right into dean's open mouth, words hot on dean's tongue. dean doesn't say anything, because words do not exist in his brain. "could you fucking imagine the way younger me would scream when you slam into his ass?"

dean makes a noise, something that sounds like "shit, sam." to his own ears, but he doesn't remember giving his brain permission to speak.

"you're so thick, fuck." sam moans, and dean bites hard on his shoulder in a kind of fucked-out pride. yes, he is. "you just know he's so tight. just fingers up there so far. you'd split him open."

"yeah," dean groans, imagining that. taking sammy at age 23, all spread open and little scrawny arms, concave stomach heaving for breath, and pink nipples that'll make him cry if dean plays with them enough.

"that kid would die on your dick," dean grunts, and sam's wide eyes catch his over his shoulder, as dean leans back so he can get an actual rhythm going again, reaching down to wrap a hand around sam's dick. they both know they're talking about younger dean. "he'd fuck himself on your cock until he died. he'd come before you even got your pants off. at 26, you could've skull-fucked me until i bled and i'd cry of gratitude."

sam cants his hips back in time with dean's next grind in, and dean grabs his hips, controlling the way they move together. dean watches a bead of sweat slide into the divot of sam's spine.

"i want you to fuck him first," sam whines head tilted against the pillow, and dean's hips stutter, thinking about holding his younger self down by the throat and teaching him some fucking manners.

dean's brain melting out of his ears, lost like he always is to sam like this: open and dick leaking and just for dean.

"nah," dean leans down, mouth right against sam's ear. "i'd want him to fuck me first. i gotta make sure he knows what he's doing before i let him take your dick."

sam comes with a wail, spine snapping straight and eyes flying open, like he's shocked by it. dean chases his own pleasure, hips snapping furiously against sam's ass with wet slaps that fill his ears. he bites down on sam's shoulder, hard, and sam's spent dick gives another jerk as dean empties into him.

as soon as they're wiped down, dean falls asleep, completely at peace knowing that sammy'll bitch at him for his come leaking out of him all day tomorrow.

~~~

this is...nice? dean thinks, as he stares around the table.

his younger self is devouring the steak dean made in a truly horrific frenzy. he doesn't even notice that dean very purposefully made sammy a black bean burger, to really drive in his younger self's faux pas from the other day. which in dean's opinion, is super fucking shitty of him.

sam is sitting next to younger dean, and staring at him eating his steak with a sort of pity-disgust-wonder. did they really use to look like that?

dean looks up next to him at sammy, who is calmly chewing his veggie burger like nothing is amiss.

but there have been no blow-ups today--for the first time in maybe a week? he and sam sat in the garage for most of the day while sam watched him fix up an old pontiac. dean was even super charitable and let his younger self blather about whatever he talked about at age 26 to sammy for five whole uninterrupted hours. dean's really feeling like the bigger man today.

and it probably has something to do with the big bruises on sammy's neck, peaking out over the collar of his flannel. dean definitely knows that younger dean saw those this morning. dean can't say for certain that that's why he went so crazy on sammy's neck last night...but he's not not saying that either.

dean reaches for his beer just as sammy next to him finishes taking a sip of his. sammy puts the beer back on the table, and he's suddenly all smiles.

dean raises an eyebrow takes a sip of his beer.

"so." sammy says, and the other two across the table turn to look at him, younger dean's cheeks full of half-masticated meat. "dean and i have been talking."

sammy turns and looks at him, sly smile making dean's dick twitch. he's not a robot, okay? dean swallows. they have? he takes another sip so he doesn't have to finish sammy's sentence, if that's what he's expecting.

sammy looks back at their younger selves. sam has an unimpressed eyebrow raised, and younger dean is trying to swallow his mouth-meat-mountain as quickly as possible.

"dean and i agree that we should all have sex." sammy says.

dean inhales a lungful of beer.

dean's going to fucking die.

~~~

HAHAHA this was so delightful to write. i am kissing you on the forehead for your brilliant brain, anon. sam just being like :D !! so :D what do you think?? :D !! as both deans choke to fucking death on the ground.

and thank you, anon! that's so kind!!!! thank YOU for sending in this lovely prompt!

-lizzy

[plaidbooks]

I just had surgery and recovery isn’t going as best… can you write a little (maybe smutty) blurb with sonny x reader in a hospital room?

Sorry this took so long—I hope you are doing well!!

*************

Sonny groaned as he sat up, his arms feeling weak. You were in the bathroom washing your hands, but as you heard him, you hurried back into his room.

At the look on your face, he gave you a strained smile. “Sorry, doll, I just needed to be upright.”

“You could’ve at least waited for me to get out of the bathroom,” you replied, moving to adjust his pillows so he could lean against them.

He huffed out what could’ve been a laugh, then grimaced. “Aren’t I supposed to be on painkillers?”

You poured him some water and offered him the glass, which he took gratefully. “Babe, you were shot—“

“Only in the meat of my shoulder!”

“—so of course you are sore. I can call for a nurse if it’s too much—“

“Nah,” he sighed, handing the now empty glass back to you. “I’m just feeling whiny.”

Nothing about what happened—what’s currently happening in your lives—was sexy; Sonny had been shot on the job, and though the doctor said that he’ll heal completely, it still left you shaken.

However, Sonny just mentioning being whiny threw your mind back to a night weeks ago. You had tied Sonny’s hands to the bed and teased him all night long. His sounds had become breathy and desperate, and he keened when you ran a fingernail down the inside of his thigh.

His cock had been swollen, red, and leaking, twitching against his belly as he tried to stop himself—you had not ordered him to cum yet. Even so, you were deciding how to torture him next; suck him off until he shoots down your throat? Stroke him and hear his groan of frustration that he wasn’t inside you? Or ride him until he begged you to stop?

“Doll? Ya there?”

Sonny voice snapped you back to the present. The low lighting in the hospital room, your beautiful husband in a sling, eyebrows knit as he looked at you.

“Sorry, sorry. I was lost in thought. What were you saying?”

He looked concerned for a moment before talking about going home in the morning.

[leviathanspain]

if we died tonight, i would die yours

bill weasley x reader

synopsis: the war gives you clarity

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

perhaps you shouldn’t have come. 

but how were you to tell one of the most important figures in the wizarding world that you couldn’t help him fight off lord voldemort?

you, like many others from the order, had been aware of the news that he was back. you had paid closer attention to the newspapers, after having avoided them for years. but now, it seemed like many of the people you knew were in danger, so you knew you had to return home.

but there was more carnage than you had expected. more and more of your fellow classmates and friends were dying, and you were helpless.

you were caught under a crumbling building, having been chased by a group of death eaters just moments before, it seemed like death desired you.

you screamed, feeling a powerful blast hit you, tossing you aside to some crumbled stone.

black spotted your vision, and you blinked, trying to get some sense of what was happening. you blinked again, and realized that the horrifying mask of a death eater was before you. the tip of their wand was pointed at you as well, ready to cast a spell.

you bit back a scream and blinked, head throbbing with the pressure. your vision was still spotty, but what you could see had cleared up.

you looked up at them, eyes narrowed, “do it.” you egged them on, and pushed yourself more into the wand tip, “kill me!” you screamed, anguish from your defeat powered your voice

the death eater didn’t even flinch at your words. they remained with their wand pointing right at you.

if this was how you died, then you would go down fighting.

“expelliarmus!” a shout brought you out of your final thoughts. someone had saved you, from a swift murder. you opened your eyes, and realized that he had saved you.

he struck out, wand pointing at the attacker, but from what you could see, the death eater had vaporized, refusing to fight.

“coward!” you screamed, watching as the black vapor disappeared.

you couldn’t see much as more black spots clouded your vision. all you could see before you lost consciousness was a red shock of hair.

there had been many things bill had wanted to say. he had tried to speak, to his family, to the doctors and nurses surrounding you. but his speech had faltered, and he had reserved himself to a chair in the corner.

it wasn’t until his brother was found dead that bill had left your bedside. he wouldn’t admit that he hesitated to leave, but he knew you wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t.

it had been weeks and you still hadn’t woken up. most of the funerals for the fallen had passed, many had returned to a life of slight normalcy. but bill didn’t.

his hair had grown longer than he’s ever had it, curls just brushing his shoulders. he had grown a beard as well, the idea of shaving hadn’t occurred at all.

his family had begged him to sleep, to eat and to come back to society. they had reiterated what the doctors had said, that nothing in the magical world could bring you back.

they had said that you were nothing, an empty vessel being kept on ice.

but bill had refused that, and rejected any attempts to change his mind.

his family couldn’t know why he was doing this, or else they’d see him as nothing but a monster.

he hadn’t stopped loving you, after all this time he didn’t want to leave you, even in life, and even in death.

there was nothing he felt more than regret. he had known that after that night, you would never forgive him. you swore you wouldn’t forgive him for a lot of things, for he was a good man, and you made sure he stayed it.

yet that night, he had broken his promises.

“if you don’t want me here, just say it!” you snapped, throwing the pillow right at him, “i’ve tried, time and time again to get you to fucking talk to me. like we used to, how couples are supposed to do! yet all you do, is stay in this shitty apartment and mope, all day long!” it was word vomit. all your anger and frustration had finally hit a point with bill, and you couldn’t stop it.

“those scars didn’t change who you are. you’re beautiful, william, you’ve always been and you always will be. i-“

“i dont.” his words rattled over yours and you stopped, blinking with surprise that he had even said anything.

“what?” you blinked, anger subsiding to confusion.

“i don’t want you here.” he admitted, circling back to your words.

you could smell the flowers first. you had smelled all of the flowers, as if the room had been filled to the brim with them.

and it was.

you opened your eyes and feasted upon the bright colors and arrangements of flowers, all circled around you.

groggily, you rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up, but there was a dull ache that stopped you. wincing, you clutched your side and remained on the bed. you sighed, trying to remember the last thing that happened.

and it hit you the moment you saw him.

there he was, practically being swallowed up by the sofa. he was sleeping, strands of his long ginger hair splayed out on his forehead.

he was beautiful.

“bill?” you called out, and watched as he responded to his name, waking up quickly.

you watched as your ex boyfriend rushed over to your bedside, leaning down to grab your hand and check your forehead.

you didn’t say anything as he fussed, calling for the doctor. you stayed silent, watching him move all about the room until he stopped, having noticed your gaze.

“what?” the question seemed playful, almost as if he expected you to be happy, but seeing him made you feel everything but.

“why are you here?” there was a furrow in your brows, and hurt in your voice. it hadn’t even been two months since he kicked you out, since you begged on your knees for him to take you back.

you swore on everything you had, your dignity, your self respect, that you’d never return to him.

yet here he was, shoving himself back into your life.

“wha-“ he scoffed, as if shocked by your question, “i saved you. im the one who fought off the death eater, im the one who brought you here- i-“ his voice was beginning to rise, and you blinked, being taken back to the many many arguments you’ve had.

“stop.” you held up a hand, and bill didn’t say anything. you sighed, collecting your words until you spoke.

“after what you said, why are you here? why did you save me?” you looked up at him, and gave him a challenging glare.

bill faltered, as if he too remembered his behavior towards you just a few months ago.

you couldn’t breathe between the utter panic you felt, and the uncontrollable sobs that shook your body. you had begged him not to make you go, that you loved him and wanted nothing more than to take care of him.

he had thrown you out, along with throwing many things at you.

“bill!” you begged, nails clawing at his door.

ever since his accident, he had so much anger, so much frustration that he took out on you.

“get out! get the hell out and never come back!” he howled, words rumbling the space around you.

you sniffled, hands clutching anxiously at the hospital blankets around you. bill didn’t say anything, not even after you brought up his last words.

he stayed silent, and you nodded, “that’s what i thought.” you cleared your throat, but you were hoarse. bill stared at the floor, and when he looked up, you realized he was crying.

you turned away, realizing that his tears would be your weakness, “just leave. hmm? there’s nothing here for you.” you assured.

bill began to walk slowly, inching towards the door, he only stopped momentarily, “you were dying, in my arms. and i thought-“

you looked at him expectantly and his eyes looked to the floor. “that i would die yours?” you finished for him, “that stopped the moment you broke my heart.”

and as bill weasley walked out, you realized you had lied.

you would always be his, but he was destructive, and you would only burn at his side.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I’m in the mood for angst, so imagine when Adam revives as a sinner he’s just horribly depressed that he doesn’t do anything but lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Doesn’t help that there are people who don’t trust him as much as he trusts them

Adam laid there on his bed in the hotel wrapped up in blankets surrounded by pillows. The rooms that he shared a hallway with were empty save for Lucifer's down at the end, so in the middle of the night Adam swiped all the extra pillows and blankets to make a makeshift nest for himself.

He had taken to staring at the ceiling, he didn't want to be around people who barely tolerated him. The only reason he was even at this third rate hotel was because of the deal he made with Lucifer and his brat taking pity on him.

Adam still remembers the look she gave him, it made him sick.

He missed his home up in heaven, where he could be himself and not worry about anyone judging him. Adam had his own little garden he would go to when he would feel an ounce of stress.

Now all he had was a somewhat decent sized hotel room in Hell to hole up in.

All Adam wanted to do was go home, not just to heaven but to Eden. His true home the one he lost forever ago.

He was forced out of there like he was forced out of heaven. Fuck his life.

He only ever left to eat when all the hotel freaks had gone to bed, even then he'd hoard enough to get him through the next day so he wouldn't have to leave.

It's been six months.

At first Charlie tried knocking on his door trying to coax Adam out, but he didn't even have the energy to yell at her. He just ignored her until she went away.

She eventually stopped trying.

"So, this is what you do all day?"

Adam jumped at the voice and glared at the King who was now standing beside his bed. "What the- Get the fuck out!" He threw a pillow at Lucifer.

Lucifer dodged it with ease. "Charlie has been wondering where those pillows went. Come on, it's time to get your ass out of bed." He made a move to rip the blanket from Adam's bed only to get his hands slapped.

"Fuck off and leave me alone, asshole!!" Adam wrapped the blankets and his wings tighter around himself and turned away from Lucifer.

They remained in silence for so long Adam thought he left.

Until he felt a dip in the bed. "You, I get it. Falling from grace is a traumatic experience, not only that it's painful leaving your home behind."

Adam could feel his eyes get wet. "Like you care."

"I care." Lucifer placed a hand gently on Adam's back, he hoped it was as comforting as he meant it to be. "You can't spend your afterlife in bed, I've been there. Trust me."

The spot where Lucifer's hand was on his back felt hot through the blanket. "I'm fine."

"Yeah you look it." Lucifer commented. "Believe it or not Adam, I do give a shit. But I understand why you don't trust me or anyone here."

"No one trusts me either."

"Can you blame them?"

"Fuck off." Adam snapped, a tear rolled down his cheek. He's not the fucking bad guy here, he's been severely wronged!

Lucifer sighed and removed his hand. "I know you likely won't, but if you ever need someone to talk to my door is always open." He got up from the bed. "Maybe try coming down for a meal once in a while."

"Do you remember that song from Eden?" Adam asked, he wasn't sure what brought in the question but he had to know. "The sung at night?"

Lucifer blinked, yeah he remembered how could he forget? "Yeah, why?"

Adam didn't answer, he was too embarrassed to ask. It was a song that Lucifer would hum or sing to him to help him relax. He felt the weight return to his bed.

Lucifer laid down this time behind Adam leaving enough space between them. He started humming the melody of the song before softly singing the words. He watched as Adam physically relaxed and smiled. Lucifer pulled the blanket back slightly from Adam's head and gently ran his fingers through silky soft dark brown hair.

Adam felt his eyes grow heavy and he smiled small, he closed them and for a moment, just a moment, he could pretend he was back in Eden with his best friend and first love.

They both could pretend.

[samyanggs]

Hello! Can u do headcanons of Buddha having a crush on a bunny!reader? Fellow Singaporean here!

Hihiii! yea I can and a fellow Singaporean? Pleasure to meet you :3 currently writing this after doing my chores so I’m a bit more tired than usual 🥲 have a good weekend btw

I js realized you said headcanons omg. Headcanons are at the very end 😭

“So goddamn hypnotizing..”

Warnings: none that I know of

Idrk how about bunny!reader but I’ll try my best! Thanks for requesting! Hope you have a great rest of your afternoon<3 I’m still having a headache so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is what you’re looking for I’m sorry for that 🙏🏽

Buddha walked through the many hallways to get to the garden. He liked the garden it was always empty and silent, perfect for him to snack or do whatever he needed. He expected it to be as empty and deserted as usual, what he didn’t expect was seeing- a bunny? No that was a person.. a bunny person?

He tilted his head to the side cocking his eyebrow in confusion. He walked up to you, you were looking at the flowers, tending to them making sure that they bloomed and flourished nicely. He walked up behind you, looking down at you, still sucking and licking his lollipop. His teeth bit into the lollipop on accident creating a sound that made your ears twitch. He saw your body tense up, making your ears rigid and straight. He eyed you as you turned around scared.

“How can I help you? Sir.” You said, softly, looking up at the other. Buddha noticed your discomfort and took a few steps back, giving you some space- that you were grateful for. He grunted.

“Nothing just wondering what a person was doing here” he said observing you. Now that he was looking at you from the front.. you were rather cute.. and pretty. You had nicely groomed bunny ears with silky, fluffy hair. He resisted the urge to pet you just to feel what it felt like. It looked extremely soft, so soft that he’d probably think it was a pillow if he was half asleep.

“Just looking at the flowers, they’re rather pretty during this time.. and because it’s quiet here..” you replied looking away and at the flowers, eyeing their beauty, the colours were bright and beautiful. “Don’t you think so?” You said, still looking at the flowers.

He snapped back to reality, he’d gotten lost in his thoughts of your prettiness.. what’s with him? He never acted like this before.. he shook his head. “Yea they are..” he said, watching you smile softly, looking at the flowers. His heart fluttered and he felt heat rising to his cheeks. He blinked. Why was he feeling like this? Why now? Why you? He questioned himself before realizing that you were now looking at him. He looked back at you. You were shocked, blushing and flustered.

“I- uh- I suppose it’s time for me to go. I’ve been here long enough.” You stuttered, avoiding eye contact. He nodded and bid you goodbye waving to you lazily as you walked away, fast and flustered.. he watched your retreating figure before looking at the flowers that you were tending too. They were beautiful.. like you. He smiled to himself. He wouldn’t mind meeting you again.. yea.. he’d enjoy seeing you again..

Headcanons!

Stares at you when he sees you in the garden while you’re tending to the followers because he can’t help but get lost in your beauty

Often goes to the garden just to see and talk to you and treasures all the times you talk to him in his heart

When he sees you cry or when you feel down, he tries his best to calm you down, hugging you, giving you snacks and/or gifting you something new to make you happy

Scared to ask you if he could pet you because you look so goddamn soft and fluffy he can’t help but wonder how it would feel to pet you.

He sometimes start blushing when you do something, he’s just fell that hard for you

He thinks about you a lot, thinking of your smile, the look in your eyes when you look at flowers, your eyes and everything else.

He pets you every now and then to feel the softness and the fluffiness, enjoys your flustered look after

He likes playing with your ears to fluster you and teasing you is his favourite part of his day

He thinks about how soft your ears and hair is a lot

[steveshairychest]

"I miss you." Steve whispers. His voice sounds so loud in the quiet room. He's got his eyes screwed shut, afraid to open them and face a world where he is alone. His arms hug his knees to his chest and the weighted blanket on top of him is nothing compared to the real thing. He misses Eddie's arms around him, misses the weight of his body and his love.

They'd only had a few weeks together. A few blissful weeks filled with soft kisses and gentle touches, both of them wanted to take their time to commit the other to memory. Steve now wishes they had rushed.

The bats had done a number on Eddie but they got him out, they got him to safety, to Steve's. Steve wanted to take him to a hospital to get professional help but Eddie had wheezed out a pained, "No, hospitals are too risky, they'd ask questions."

In those weeks, Steve had tended to Eddie's wounds and ensured him he was getting better, that he would be OK. Eddie would sit on the bathroom sink talking about anything and everything while Steve bandaged his sides with gentle hands, both of them secretly enjoying the intimacy of it all.

Then the infection set in. It came on quickly and wasn't showing any signs of letting up. Eddie insisted that he was fine, that he didn't need to go to the hospital and he just shook his head when Steve begged to take him to get help. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart." He said through clenched teeth, determined to fight the infection on his own.

But he lost. And now Steve is alone.

"I need you." Steve sobs into his pillow and it hurts, it hurts so bad because his body is tired, so tired of crying.

"I'm right here, Stevie." Eddie replies softly, his voice echoes around in Steve's mind and if Steve tries hard enough, he can imagine the soft breeze brushing across his face from the window is Eddie's cold fingers brushing along his cheek. "I'd never leave you."

Steve snaps his eyes open and stares at the empty spot beside him, the spot Eddie used to occupy with his lazy morning smile and messy bed hair.

"But you did."

[mimisempai]

Quiet place

Summary

Crowley wakes up and experiences something new. For the first time he realizes that everything is quiet, everything is in place, and is overwhelmed by this realization.

And he's not the only one.

Notes

I struggled a bit with this prompt and this is the result. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Day 15 : Quiet

On Ao3

Rating G -  881 words

When Crowley woke up, he had a strange feeling.

Strange, but not unpleasant.

Like a realization, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

The moment he felt Aziraphale move next to him, he knew what it was.

Every morning when he woke up, since they'd been living together, he'd had that slight uncertainty for a split second.

Waking up alone.

In his empty apartment.

In his car.

But this morning, all he'd felt was that sweet quietness.

He gently moved his hand forward until he felt the warmth of the body close to his own. Not touching.

He was no longer afraid of waking up alone.

Because now Aziraphale was there every morning and every evening.

Close to him.

In their home.

For a moment, he didn't dare touch the warm body next to him.

He didn't want to disturb the gentle serenity.

He looked at the fluffy hair buried in the pillow next to his. 

He smiled as he remembered their first meeting as angel and demon, destined to be enemies, yet each time they met, they grew closer.

Who would have predicted that one day they would find themselves like this?

Anyone but them.

Aziraphale had gotten under his skin a little more each time, to the point where Crowley couldn't even remember that he'd never been there.

At times, he'd even thought he'd never see him again, but in the end, he'd always kept hope in his heart, the hope the angel had given him back at the Garden of Eden wall.

They'd come close to losing each other, several times.

With that thought, Crowley moved a little closer to Aziraphale.

After all, they hadn't lost each other, and now that the last walls separating them had fallen, they were closer than ever.

Even if it had taken millennia.

Or maybe because it had taken them millennia.

There had been their reconciliation, the first kisses, the first touches, the first hugs, the many heart-to-hearts, untangling their complicated feelings. Healing themselves, healing each other. 

An endless work, but worth it, because their love was worth it.

They were so close now that Crowley couldn't remember a time when they weren't. 

"I can hear you thinking." 

Aziraphale's soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts, so Crowley moved his hand, sliding his fingertips under Aziraphale's until the angel intertwined his fingers with his own. 

Crowley turned all the way to Aziraphale and wrapped his arms around him. Their eyes met and for a long moment they just stared at each other in the warm morning light. 

Then Crowley smiled, closed his eyes in contentment, and murmured, "I was just enjoying the quiet. For the first time, I woke up and my first thought wasn't wondering if I was still in my car. It was just this sense of peace. That everything was in its place. Including you and me. It probably doesn't make any sense, I know..."

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him in turn and replied, "Yes, it does. I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes I catch myself thinking I need to talk to Crowley about this when I see him and realize you're here and I can tell you right away, I don't need any pretext to see you, no need to wait, you're right here. It's amazing, isn't it?"

The demon hummed in response and brought his face close to the angel's before pressing his lips to his.

It was neither a passionate nor a tender kiss.

Filled with the emotions they felt at that moment, it was a kiss that was both new and yet so familiar.

It wasn't like their first kiss where things were unknown and sweet. 

It was a kiss that broke the soul only to put it back together, piece by piece, perfect and in the right place. 

Like an exchanged breath.

As they realized what they had now, what they had achieved, they also realized how close they'd come to losing it.

They held on to each other, as if neither of them wanted to break the embrace. Then Aziraphale's hands moved to Crowley's cheeks and he gently pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against the demon's.

The angel breathed, his voice full of emotion, "Crowley..." and then stopped, his throat tightening as words failed him.

Crowley, feeling the same emotion pass through him, simply replied, "I know, Angel, I know..."

They'd been through a lot and here they were, in the softness of this morning, unscathed.

The realization overwhelmed them both, and the demon as well could only breathe, "Angel..." 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, holding him in a crushing embrace as Crowley buried his face in his neck.

They remained entwined like that for a long time.

In the sweet peace of that morning.

The sweet peace that was now theirs.

For it was really theirs now.

They'd earned it.

Their own quiet place.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)