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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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Late Night Confessional

Relationship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: N/A Summary: (slight) Neighbors!AU - After you come back from yet another bad date, some fluffy romantic confessionals occur between you and your neighbor. (Based off the prompt: Person A: “What would you say if I told you I was in love with you?” Person B: “That you have terrible tastes.”) A/N: Surprise, happy pride month - I write wlw, too, because I am, in fact, consider myself to be sapphic (or wlw or however you’d condier it ) :) p.s. this is an older piece of writing but i still enjoy it and wanna write more of this nature

Masterlist

"Shit," you muttered as your heel got caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Furiously, you pried off the obnoxious heels and decided trucking back home barefoot was the best option. If that was what was going to get rid of any other annoyances tonight, then so be it. You were absolutely over it.

Everything had started out fine — which was what got you — but shit turned south once he opened his mouth. He was a date you had met on one of those dating apps. You couldn’t remember which one since they’ve all just started blending together from the obsessive swiping and small talk.

With him, though, it didn’t seem so bad at first. You two texted for a few weeks and seemed to really vibe with one another. Even when you first sat down at the bar, you thought for a second this could work well.

Then he started to get handsy — drunk and handsy. In your experience, it was never a good combination and you kicked yourself for not seeing how it was going to go once he started throwing back drinks. It happened very quickly and right there in the bar. It made you want to pull your hair out.

You felt you had been so blind. What man strung a girl on for almost a month just to be hunting down a quick lay? This man — and he might as well have just admitted it to you. He liked the chase. He liked the resistance with you, he admitted when his hand began to wander. You had been a hard one to "reel in" and at that comment, you pushed him off the stool and marched out of the bar.

It didn’t make sense, but what could you do about it anymore? All that was left was to march back to your apartment, pour a hefty glass of wine, and indulge in a long bubble bath. Maybe relationships weren’t your thing, maybe love needed to take a back seat, you contemplated.

You let out a sigh of relief once you made it to your apartment building. You were suddenly overly thankful you had set up the date at a bar close to you.

After punching in the entry code, you made your way up the stairs still barefoot. Concentrated on not stepping on any trash or scraps, you didn’t see someone at the top of the landing. Unexpectedly, you collided, both of you fumbling backwards a bit. You heard a basket hit the ground as your shoes landed on the stairs with an unpleasant bang.

"Jesus, I’m so-," you began, fumbling for your shoes, as your eyes registered the person you ran into. It was was your neighbor and, arguably, best friend Natasha. She looked a bit exhausted herself. Her hair was in shambles and she wore pajamas — not something you quite always saw her in. She was usually much more together during the day so this get-up always made you chuckle. "Sorry, Nat, seriously didn’t see you there."

She smiled back, collecting her laundry back into the bin, "You end up going blind tonight, hon?"

You shook your head, playfully rolling your eyes. Scoffing, you said, "That’d be the cherry on top tonight."

Natasha looked back at you with a frown. She took in your appearance — knee-length flowy dress, pantyhose, jean jacket, and barefoot with heels dangling in your hand.

"Date went sour?" She asked, a hint of actual wonder in her voice. That was what you loved about her. Not only was she a good (quiet) neighbor, she was also a… friend. Yeah, a friend. She didn’t make your heart jump or stomach do backflips with the looks she’d shoot you. She certainly didn’t make you blush when she actually took interest in your problems or interests. It was just friendly.

You nodded, "He buttered me up for almost a month just to try to get me in bed. Scores points for dedication, I guess."

Natasha picked up her laundry and motioned for you to follow her. You made your way, shoulder-to-shoulder, suppressing any other thoughts, to her apartment. Unlocking it, you followed her to her living room where you could finally sit and relax your feet. Natasha stood by the side table, folding the laundry.

"Did he at least buy your drinks?" Natasha asked.

You laughed, "Nope."

She rolled her eyes as she threw a folded t-shirt on the coffee table.

"Was there any conversation?"

"At first," you shrugged. "It turned unbearable pretty fast. He was such a great guy in text messages, though, that’s what I cannot get over."

She finished up folding the basic stuff like t-shirts and jeans and abandoned the rest to come sit next to you on the couch. It was such a sudden movement your heart nearly jumped.

"Well," Natasha began, getting situated on the couch. She sat criss-cross with her back to the other couch arm, facing you. You shifted in your seat to copy her stance. "Men can be super weird — hell, anyone can be super weird — but, at least you tried it. You seem very persistent when it comes to dating."

You felt yourself blushing as Natasha gave you her world-famous knowing smirk. She knew you too well. She’d seen you after nearly every date that went down the drain. She sat through the rants and wine nights offering something to you and each time, feelings kept building. But it could never — could it?

You started playing with your fingers and averted your gaze to the leather couch, praying she didn’t pick up any signs even though that was impossible. The woman was trained. She was one hell of a superhero — not to even mention her lengthy past — she knew what you were doing, but didn’t give any notions of it.

"Yeah, well, it may be time I give it up for a bit,"

The words even just leaving your mouth stung. You didn’t want to give it up — you just wanted something that appeared forbidden. No woman you went out with and certainly no man you ever encountered could compare to the red-head staring at you.

"Well," Natasha sighed, her gaze averting to her kitchen. "What would you say if I told you I was in love with you?"

Time froze. Your focus on the couch got more intense. Your heart dropped a hundred floors. You didn’t even know if you could properly move. She didn’t say that — did she? Are you just imagining what you wanted to hear? It was a joke, right? It was a joke. Just a nice little fib, two besties playing around, you decided.

Composing yourself the best you could, with a shaky voice you tried to casually respond, "That you have terrible taste."

You thew in a chuckle at the end, trying to show you knew it was a joke and that you could play along — but Natasha’s look didn’t match that. Her gaze came back to you, jaw slightly dropped. She readjusted herself to sit up straight, taking a much more serious position.

"Y/N, I’m serious," she said, carefully, enunciating every letter it felt like. Her eyes were so strong, it pulled you almost. Her tone was one with her — serious and never shifting.

She… she had. She had done that and it wasn’t a stupid prank or something. Someone actually good and caring in this world was taking an interest in you. Fuck, she loved you and you loved her… but you hadn’t said it yet. Oh shit, you hadn’t said a substantial word yet. Natasha was starting to get uncomfortable with the stunned silence but just as she was about to ask you to leave, your brain found your voice.

"I love you," you blurted out with all the force you could muster. Gosh, you hadn’t even admitted that to yourself but it was true. It felt good to say, good to accept. Of course you loved her. She’d stay up with you gossiping or discussing another crappy man from Tinder. You two had regular Sunday brunches at the pancake house down the street neither of you dared to miss. She’d indulge in your interests, watching the twinkle in your eyes while you’d be there ready to set out for whatever new adventure she wanted to take. Heck, she even managed to drag you camping — you hated camping but you loved her and that was all that mattered. You spent so much time hunting the web for your soulmate when really she just lived across the hall.

"You- you mean that?" Natasha’s voice was suddenly so soft. You had never heard her like this. She seemed… nervous. Soft and nervous. She was just as unsure as you were and that was understandable.

"Yeah," You chuckled, a smile playing at your lips. "I do mean it. I love you. I- I think I have for a while."

Natasha spent a second looking for any hints of lying before quickly placing her lips on yours. The movement came at you so fast, you both nearly fell off the couch, but once your brain registered, your lips moved like they belonged. She gripped your waist as the passion in the kiss drove up. Your arms found their way around her neck, your hands playing with strings of her hair.

She broke away for a second and whispered, very much out of breath, "I love you. I’ve always loved you."

You chuckled and whispered it right back. The passion matched the kiss and you pulled her down, sinking into the couch, hands wandering recklessly.

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crowdedimagines · 4 years

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Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go.

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

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sarahlynnirl · 3 years

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Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

#terf safe #terfs please touch #terfs please interact #radfem #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radical feminism #terf #swerfs please interact #swerf #anti prostitution #addiction #recovery #terfs do touch #sugardadddy

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max-the-d0g · 4 years

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“So like that then...”

Audrey Tindall x reader

Audrey gets the ending she deserves I think

Being Sidney’s assistant is a nightmare, on normal days. But having to go back to the Roanoke house is The nightmare. Being on the set wasn't too bad, nothing too weird happened. You were surprisingly close to the actress, Audrey Tindall. She was sweet and hilarious, and you loved her but would never let her know. You loved being near her, so going back the Roanoke house wouldn't be extremely bad. The only downside is, you won't be in the house with her, you would be in the van with the monitors with Sidney. The schedule you had been given told you that your arrival would be at dawn. So, you couldn’t see the gorgeous blonde or the joyful smiles. Which she sends you whenever you were in the room. she would always greets you with a bear hug during your set hours.

You were driving on the dirt road in the direction of the van that Sidney had sent earlier in the day. In the seat next to you, you acquired some takeout for the guys in the van and some coffee you kept sipping from to keep you awake on the journey, it was Audrey favourite. She told you about it when you went to a cafe with her. Which was the most exciting times of you life. When you arrived at the destination of the van, everything seems off, like someone was telling you to leave. The vibe feels uneasy, making you second guessing coming here.

Hopping out of the car, your eyes zone in on the body on the grass. Scrambling to the body, you see Sidney's covering the grass and a camera beside his head. “What the actual fuck!” You voice raises slightly, gagging at the sight. You look around seeking any sign of what could caused this, blood splats on the van, all over the grass and a few specs on you hand when you rolled the body over. The grass coated in blood.

You fish for your phone in the glove box of the car, “ Shit. Shit Shit. What the actual fuck.” After frantically typing in 911, you get hold of the police. Telling them what you have just encountered. You stay on the phone with them, they inform you not to disturb anything and to stay where you are. You place your hand on your forehead trying to think what evil shit could do this, turning your head slightly to the bushes you see another body. “ Are you shitting me? There's another body? Oh shit, it's Jill.” You say to no one, but the operator replies telling you to keep calm and look for shelter. You look to the van then your car. The van you decided.

Walking in you look around and to see the cameras still on and working fine. Studying one you see Shelby. Dead. “Oh shit,” you mumble. You look at the one in the corner and see Matt in the basement with his head smashed against the concrete floor. “Fuck.”

“Is it safe there, hello Y/N? Is everything okay?” The operator says.“No... I am not fine. Shit, I think they are all gone.”

“Okay, keep where you are. If you hear anything, grab some sort of weapon and hide. I will keep on call until the police arrive. They are 20 minutes away.”

---- After 20 minutes you heard the sirens. A knock is heard after a couple of minutes. “Police! Is anyone in there. Come out now.” “Oh thank god... they are here. Thank you, Dana.” “You are welcome.” she hangs up. “There is a house. There might someone alive.” You mumble to them. Getting into the front of the police car. The rest of the police are already at the scene when you pull up. Some officers near a trap door on the ground and some in the house. Peering towards the house, you see Lee leave. Oh shit, she survived whatever bullshit that has happened. “One survivor.” The officer declares next to you. Where is Audrey? Oh god, She can't be gone. Shit please no, if there's a God up there. Audrey better be alive. “Another one. Two survivors.” You look to the right and see Audrey. You get out of the car and step to Audrey. She doesn't see you, her eyes are zoned onto Lee. “You.” You hear Audrey say. You see Audrey looking at Lee and then the officers gun. No! “Audrey!” You yell, her hand grabs for the gun on the officer, officers around begin to react.“Audrey!” You yell louder. Her eyes find yours and her hands flops at her side. You manage to run to her, gathering her into you. “Oh my god, what the hell happened? Don't answer right away. Ok. Let's get you out of here.” She hugs you back. You capture her soft face looking for any marks and scraps that may litter her face. “That fucking bitch.” She mumbles into your side of your exposed neck, her warm breathe tickling you. After you let go of her face, she pulls you tightly to her. Her body trembles as she steps away from the officers and into a clearing.

An officer gives you a blanket. You wrap her into it, covering her shoulders. “What? Lee... What did she do?”A soft sob leaves Audrey's mouth,“She killed Monet and she tried to kill me.” She mumbles incoherently, her shaky arms tightening around you and a hurt rasp leaves her mouth. “Let's get you away from her and to the ambulance, okay?” Your eyes land on Lee who looks in shock, the police around her try to ask her what allegedly happened. But, she seems not to recall anything.

---

The past couple of days she has been staying at house. Most days she is okay, she is still her bubbly self, making jokes and making you laugh.The night, however, are what hits her worse. She wakes most nights from nightmares, screaming and thrashing around on the bed. The scream are the thing that wakes you up, the gut wrenching screams fills the empty house. You rush to her side to aid her. Always there to comfort her, once she is settled down and calmed you usher her out of the bed to the kitchen for a cup of tea. She snuggles up to you, keeping contact with you. You then, usher her to your room with a warm smile. “Your presence always helps.” She will mutter before she falls to sleep, a content smile gracing her lips.

---

A couple of weeks later, both of you hear that Lee has is been put on trial for murder of at least six people, but she walks free somehow. This issue pisses Audrey off, but also frightens her, knowing a murder is walking free and especially one that tried to kill her and that killed her castmates and friends. She plagued with the though of Lee stalking her and killing her. Lee haunts her thoughts most days, and not leaving when she sleeps. These thoughts keeps the British woman awake, afraid to closer eyes only to open them in a nightmare where she dies brutally. Audrey has began to fear the dark, scared of what lurks there. She's afraid of what lurks in the shadow, most nights she will leave the lights on and try to sleep, only to fail and take a nap whilst you are in the room.

---

Audrey was reading the news of a new court case that Lee has been put on trial for this one being her ex-husband murder. “If she walks free, I'm going freak out. She killed him. It’s apparent.”Audrey mutters,“Her daughter is testifying against her... That is a mum from hell. She witnessed her mother kill her father with a rock.” She adds.“Is she going to prison?”You peer over her shoulder placing your head softly on her shoulder. Audrey looks to your side of your head,“Are you joking me? She blamed her daughters imagination? She walked free again...”Audrey places a soft kiss to your cheek.“She has to be in prison soon.” Looking at her with shock, she looks away and carries on reading. Touching the place, she kissed you feel yourself fall deeper for her. Well, that was unexpected. Lana Winters had asked Lee for an interview after the trials, unbeknownst to the both of you who enjoyed watching her shows. “Y/N, it’s on. Come on, I need to see it. You know I don't miss an episode of Winters.” She yells, you run and sit next to Audrey, her face falls when she sees that Lee is on her screen. “Are you joking me? Her? She's a murderer. Lana could've asked me, Y/N.” She says, a little dramatically. “She might after, who knows maybe you might be her guest next week. Do you wanna keep watching? We could rewatch Billie’s show again if you want?” she ponders for a bit and shakes her head no. Nothing new was heard, other than Lee lying about her encounters and who massacred them. Lana asks her a few questions, “Why did you agree to come to this interview?” Lee believes that they have something in common. Rolling your eyes at the irony, “Yes, killing her son who tried to kill her isn't something you have in common.” Audrey yells at the screen. A question that shocks both you and Audrey is Lana asking Lee, “Where her daughter is.” Lana says she has been missing before the show even started. Audrey looks to you, the shock is written all over her face. She comes closer to you, almost on your lap. “She wouldn't, would she? Kill her daughter? ”You mutter. “If she killed those people and her ex-husband in front of her daughter of course she can.” When she says this, someone bursts through the door on screen.“That's one of them hillbilly incest fuckers, that took me.” She mutters, her voice wavers a bit. Tensing a bit at the mention of it, he knocks Lana out and when he is about to kill Lee he is shot down by an officer. The screen blacks out and text comes up, saying there's a ‘slight problem we will return in a few minutes’. “What the hell just happened?”

You both decided to call it an early night. Walking to your separate rooms you feel Audrey clammy hand around you wrist. “Can you sleep with me tonight?” Freezing a bit, not knowing how to reply. The silence gives Audrey the impression she overstepped, asking too much of you. “Never mind that was foolish. Goodnight, Y/N” “Yes, I will sleep with you.” Relief washes over her after you say it. She grips your hand and ushers you to the bed. “You can take this side. I’ll take the other side.” She points to each side. Both of you are settled in you respected sides, laying there stiff a little stiff. Audrey shuffles closer to you, she rolls onto her side. “You look a bit stiff there y/n. Relax it's just me, we’ve done this before” she whispers. “Sorry, didn't realise.” Rolling over to her, to face the gorgeous woman, you see conflict. A concern expression, almost. “Is there something on your mind, Audrey?” She doesn't look directly into your eyes. “If you didn't shout my name that day, I would have probably either have killed Lee and gone to prison or died,” she mutters. “And I wouldn't be here with you. Someone who makes me content and someone I love dearly. Not like a friend. Knowing you could’ve seen me shot and killed, kills me inside.” Love dearly, not like a friend. Probably like a family member.

“It frightens me that if I didn't have you here. How would I handle anything?” She tears up and chokes on a sob.“Hey, come here,” she scoots into your neck. “Well, you don't have to think about that. I’m here for you that's all that matters. You will get through this whole mess, and you won't be alone. You have me.”You push her closer, your hand rubbing light circles on her back, until her both relaxes.“But I don’t have you.” You frown slightly at this.“What do you m-” You are silenced by a pair of lips, caught off guard at first you don't react. she starts moving away at the lack of reaction, thinking it was rejection. You capture the side of her face pulling her closer to you and kiss back. “So like that then...” You mutter against her lips. She hums in reply deepening the kiss.

#audrey tindall #audrey tindall x reader #ahs roanoke #ahs #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #lana winters #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #cordelia goode x reader #lana winters x reader

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maliby · 4 years

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When The Night Comes | CH. 3

↬ Pairing: Jimin x Reader | Taehyung x Reader

↬ Story Genre: smut, angst, vampire!au

↬ Warnings in this chapter: blood, explicit language, smut

↬ Word count: 4.9K

↬ Summary: Your school has two courses: the day course, and the night course. Rules say that it’s strictly forbidden for both courses to interact but can you really follow the rules when you see the same eyes that have been showing up in your dreams for months on a mysterious hot guy from the night course?

A/N: tag list below, if you want to be tagged feel free to ask <3

“Wake up,” you jolted up from your fortress of blankets to an alluring voice whispering on your left ear.

“Who’s there?” you asked looking around the dark room. Your sleepy eyes were having trouble focusing but nonetheless you were able to see a dark figure right in front of you which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Don’t be scared, it’s just me,” you immediately screamed as your eyes adjusted to the darkness and spotted the red eyes and hair of your intruder.

“Don’t worry love, I’m not going to hurt you.” Taehyung came closer to you, his hand reaching for your cheek to caress it. “I could never hurt you...that is, of course, unless you ask for it.”

His evil smirk made your instincts kick in and make you want to get away from him, but your body wasn’t giving in. It was like it wanted nothing more than to receive his affection and the danger that came along with him.

Suddenly, you remembered your roommate Yujin was sleeping in the same room as you and couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread coming over you at the potential hazard that would arise if she woke up and saw Taehyung.

“Y-yujin,” you pointed out.

“Don’t worry love, I concealed us from her. She won’t hear or see a thing…” And then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking as tiny moans left your mouth.

You should be getting away, you should be screaming, you should be pushing him away, but you wouldn’t. This man had deceived you so you could give him your blood, he had lied to you and tricked you, he was dangerous and yet you couldn’t help but get wet by his touch and you hated yourself for it.

“Why can’t I say no to you? Stop using your supernatural powers on me,” you said, trying to come up with an explanation as to why you couldn’t stop him.

“You think I’m using my powers on you love? I’m offended,” he chuckled. “You better believe that when I have a girl it’s because she wants me to have her, and you…” his hand travelled down your body and entered your pyjama pants and underwear, massaging your lips and clit, “are dying to have me inside you.”

“Fuck,” your hand reached for his arm as a reflex, not really expecting to find such toned biceps underneath his studded leather jacket.

“Am I making you curse now? I love corrupting good girls…” his nose was moving through your neck as he inhaled deeply, probably getting a good whiff off his meal. Soon, his sharp fangs were scrapping through your neck. It seemed like every move of his was made with the intention of luring you into his web of seduction - he started at the nape of your neck, slowly going up, probably leaving red streaks on your neck, as his finger smoothly glided from your entrance all the way up to your clit. It was like it was designed to make you fall, the climax being when he bit your lower lip with one of his fangs and entered you with his 2 long digits.

“Oh my-”

“Scream it louder love, he can’t hear you,” his fingers started pumping into you faster as if encouraging you to let go.

“Fuck yes,” you screamed, your brain not registering what he meant by ‘he’. Was it Jimin?

“I love the way your tight little pussy is clenching around my fingers,” his velvety voice was like fuel to the fire, rilling you up even more. “I can just imagine how good it must feel to have you squeezing around my cock.”

When you thought it couldn’t get any better, Taehyung’s other fingers reached your clit and started rubbing circles on it, making you go completely wild.

“Mmmm,” you moaned through your shut lips, trying hard not to make a noise. Yujin couldn’t hear you, but that didn’t mean the people in the other rooms also couldn’t.

“Scream my name for me love and I’ll let you cum.”

You couldn’t think about what was happening anymore. You couldn’t think about the fact that this vampire was here in your room after he had tricked you. You couldn’t think about all of the dangers. All you could think about was that you wanted to cream his fucking fingers and scream his name. “Taehyung…”

“That’s it love, let them all hear. Let him hear.”

You were in a trance, his smooth voice and long fingers guiding you to your sweet release. You could feel it building up. You could feel your walls clenching tight, ready to let go, but just as you were about to cum you woke up.

You frantically got up and looked around the room - only Yujin was there. You sighed. It was just a dream.

Being aware of your current state of arousal you couldn’t help but hide your face in your hands - the freshly healed cut on your hand throbbing in unison with your pussy. You plonked back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Was this your life now? Dreaming about hot vampire boys? You wouldn’t mind if it was a harmless sex dream, but seeing as the protagonist of that dream had, just the night before, tricked you into giving him your blood just so he could track you things were a little different.

You looked outside the window that stood on the opposite wall of where the beds were and noticed the absence of the silver moon in the sky. You sighed. You hated when it was the new moon. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you felt like it had to do with the fact that everything felt much darker.

Your mind reverted back to Jimin. Why was he so pissed that Taehyung had drunk your blood? You were glad that he was worried about you but the fact was that he barely knows you. Why was a vampire so worried about the fact that another vampire has fed on someone? He didn’t seem to mind the affairs going on in the hangout place of the nightwing, so why was he so worried about you?

Your thoughts started to subside and soon sleep started to take over you. As the leaves of the trees outside danced around in the wind, your eyes started to close shut. You nuzzled your cheek on your pillow and sunk under, oblivious to the pair of silver eyes watching over you in the trees.

------------------ 1 week later -------------------

You read the text your friend Lisa had sent you out loud so your roommate Yujin could hear it.

Lisa McGuire

Get to the cafeteria now!!! You won’t believe what happened!

When it came to getting ready, you and Yujin were one and the same - you were always late. You both liked to take your time doing things, especially in the shower. Since you were getting ready to have breakfast and not to go straight to class you both felt in less of a rush, but your friend’s message surely intrigued both of you.

“What could it be?” Your friend asked as she quickly applied mascara to her already long lashes.

“Knowing Lisa? It’s probably about a boy.” You finished brushing your hair and placed down the brush, now being fully ready.

“You think she’s already over that Chanyeol boy she hooked up with last week or she secretly sneaked into the nightwing to have sex with him?” Yujin placed her mascara back in her little cup and made her way to her bed so she could pick up her bag and join you.

“I truly don’t know…” You hoped it wasn’t the latter. Chanyeol was Taehyung’s friend, and if he helped him pull his little stunt where he ‘made you’ give him his blood then he was just as bad as the vampire with the red hair.

When you and your roommate spotted your group of friends in the cafeteria you felt your whole world shake. They had company, someone that was currently biting Lisa’s earlobe making her giggle. Someone that made your blood freeze over.

“Oh my god-” Yujin interjected.

”Lisa!” You called in a volume way louder than your normal register, getting the attention of everyone around you, including all of your friends.

“Y/N! Yujin! Look, it’s Chanyeol!” She happily pointed at the boy sitting next to her with a huge grin. Just the look on his face was making you physically sick.

“What is he doing here?! Isn’t he from the night course?” You tried not to sound too angry, but you just couldn’t help it.

“A portion of the night course moved to the day course and Chanyeol was picked!” If she noticed the level of aggression in your tone she didn’t let it show, being really excited about the boy with the silver hair’s presence.

After registering her words you looked around the cafeteria and noticed several people wearing the characteristic navy blue uniform of the night course - dread soon took over your whole body. If Chanyeol was here then...was Taehyung also here?

“He didn’t come,” the man with the deep voice said as if reading your mind. You turned your head back to your own group and couldn’t help but feel the creeps at the smirk he had on his face.

“Who’s he? And...you know each other? Y/N you never told me!” Lisa looked between the two of you all confused. She was probably upset that you had pretended like you didn’t know him all the times she gushed about him.

“We met through a mutual friend.” Chanyeol broke eye contact with you to look back at Lisa, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. You needed answers on what the hell was going on and you needed them now.

“Oh my god! Is it the mysterious hot guy?” Lisa interrogated her crush before she turned back to you. “Y/N you didn’t tell us you finally got together with him!”

“Mysterious hot g-”

“Yes!” You interrupted Chanyeol before he could question Lisa further. You couldn’t have them know about Taehyung, it was way too dangerous. “I was with him at the Halloween party.” Technically you weren’t lying, you were with Jimin at the Halloween party.

“Oh my god! And you kept that a secret?! What happened?” Eunbin who was currently spreading strawberry jam on her toast asked.

“I-” You were struggling with what to say, especially because Chanyeol was right in front of you. You looked straight at him and quickly got annoyed - he was enjoying this. He certainly was Taehyung’s friend.

“Good morning,” a voice you recognized perfectly said from behind you, saving you from this embarrassing moment - it was Jimin. Your eyes, that were looking straight at Chanyeol, noticed how he immediately changed demeanour, the smug on his face disappearing and his head hanging low as if he was submitting. Weird, you thought.

You turned around and there he was. His dark hair softly hanging across his features, his (now) brown eyes that you knew oh so well looking straight at you, his soft plump lips making your heart skip a beat, and the way his navy blue uniform hugged his lean and fit body making your thighs squeeze harder. You know he noticed the way you were ogling him up and down because his soft neutral expression quickly turned into a teasing one, a little chuckle leaving his perfect set of lips.

“I’m sorry to take you from your friends but, would you mind having breakfast with me today? I’d really like to talk to you.”

The way all of your friends gasped at his request made you embarrassed beyond belief, but the worst was when Lisa decided to respond instead of you. “Of course she will!”

You turned to your friend to give her a menacing look that failed to intimidate her, a wink being all you got in response. You glanced over at Chanyeol and his eyes were still on his lap, making you question their dynamics. You wondered for a second if you should ask Jimin about it but then you remembered that he was still waiting for your response.

“Sure,” you ignored your friend’s excited faces and joined Jimin, being terrified to look back for just a second.

“Find a table, I’ll just go and get my breakfast and then I’ll join you,” you turned to leave, but the cold hand he placed around your arm stopped you.

“No need, I got it for you,” he lifted up his tray filled with food making your eyes double in size at all the food he had there. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a bit of everything.”

“Oh,” you interjected feeling touched at his gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

“No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

You two stayed silent for a moment, a blush creeping up on your cheeks until Jimin found an empty table and signalled you to sit down.

You were feeling kind of nervous if you were being honest. You hadn’t heard anything from Jimin since the incident at the Halloween party. He had taken you back to your room but had said little to no words, making you think he was somehow angry at you. But the fact that he was being so nice right now kind of calmed you down.

Looking down at the tray of food you noticed your usual Oreos were missing. But, as the number 1 Oreo fan, you always carried a little package with you, so you reached for your bag and picked up the package so you can dip the cookies in your milk.

Jimin chuckled. “I didn’t realize I was having breakfast with a child. I’m sorry, I’ll get your cookies next time,” he joked.

“Hey! It’s really good okay? Don’t judge me,” you stuffed your mouth with the first Oreo dipped in milk and hummed in approval, Jimin finding your behaviour amusing.

He lifted up his hands in defence and apologized. “I’m sorry, I promise not to make fun of the Cookie Monster anymore!”

You laughed, choking up on the Oreo a bit.

The mood between you and Jimin had never been this light before, a form of tension always being present, but you must admit that you really enjoyed it. Then your mind went back to that Halloween party again and the tension grew once more.

“I’m sorry,” you picked up another oreo and dipped it in your glass of milk, avoiding his gaze.

“For what?” You could tell from his tone of voice that he was confused at your sudden apology.

“For giving my blood to Taehyung…”

You weren’t looking at his face but you saw him clench his fists, giving you a strange feeling in your chest.

“It’s not your fault. I should have been there to protect you.” You looked up at him in shock, but he averted your gaze, looking away into nothingness. It was as if he was being transported to that moment, his jaw locked tight. Why was he blaming himself?

“Jimin, you couldn’t have known…” You cleaned your fingers on your napkin and placed your hand on top of his cold one, immediately feeling something similar to a spike of electricity running through the skin that was in contact with him.

He didn’t answer.

Jimin’s eyes locked with yours for an instant, and as much as you tried to decipher his emotions you couldn’t.

“So,” you removed your hand from on top of his and picked up another Oreo, getting ready to dunk it in your glass of milk, “why did people from the night course change to the day course?” You asked, trying to change the subject and lighten up the mood again.

“The director liked how well the Halloween party went and how the students from both courses seemed to get along, so he came up with this little one-way exchange program.”

You didn’t know why but you had a feeling Jimin wasn’t telling you the truth. Not only did his answer seem rehearsed but the university had been structured like this since 2 years ago when you first enlisted and not once had the director showed this much interest in the two courses socializing. Something fishy was going on but you decided not to press Jimin any further on that matter.

“Does the director know that you’re-”

“Vampires?” He whispered with a teasing expression, seeming to poke fun at the way you got embarrassed to say the word. “Yes.”

“And is he...is Taehyung also going to be around here during the day?” You really didn’t want to bring Taehyung back into the conversation but the thought hadn’t left your mind since you first learned some vampires were transferred and for your own peace of mind, you had to ask.

“Don’t worry, I made sure that worthless rat wouldn’t step his feet in here. You’re safe.”

You couldn’t help but release the breath you now realized were holding. Since the incident, your dreams had been filled with what you would describe as pure porn, all of which involved Taehyung. What bothered you most was how realistic the dreams were. Like you woke up and you could still feel his teeth sinking into your skin and his long cold fingers playing with your pussy. At first, you thought your mind was just acting upon you being around sexy men so often, but for the last couple of days, you’ve begun to wonder if it’s some side effect of you giving him your blood. You wanted to ask somebody who could answer you, but there was no way in hell you were about to tell Jimin you’ve been having erotic dreams with Taehyung. He already despised the guy and seemed to hate even you just mentioning him, much less this.

“Have you been sleeping well?” Jimin asked in a soft voice as if reading your thoughts. You now realized you had spaced out on him, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Hum...yes,” you answered in a not so affirmative tone. “Why do you ask? Do I-?” As on a reflex, you let go of your Oreo and touched your eye bags, wondering if your concealer wasn’t doing a good enough job.

He chuckled. “You look great cara mia, don’t worry,” his hand reached for your cheek and you couldn’t help but feel your whole body burning up. How could it not, when a man that looked like he was carved into perfection was complementing you in a foreign language?

The sweet gesture didn’t last long though, him getting his hand back on the table and clearing his throat. “I was just worried because of the events of last week. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” this time his voice was more serious, giving you whiplash. No matter how much time you spent with Jimin, his hot and cold persona was something you found difficult to deal with.

“Don’t worry Jimin,” you reassured him which seemed to ease up his mind.

As you downed your glass of milk - having finished all your Oreos - you noticed your group of friends passing right by you, Lisa holding hands with Chanyeol, and you couldn’t help but worry for her.

“Hey Jimin, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Is he a bad guy?” You pointed to the man with the silver hair currently grabbing your friend’s ass, feeling your chest tighten at their interactions.

“You’re worried about your friend?”

“Yeah…” you trailed off.

“I think that all you need to worry about is that he may be a womanizer. Other than that...he’s not gonna eat her,” his sincere and warm smile ease up your mind.

“I never thought I’d have this response at someone being a womanizer but thank god,” you sighed in relief.

Your response made Jimin laugh and you found that you liked him best like this, his eyes turned into crescent moons and his beautiful smile on display.

“Well then, shall we go to class? I hear Mr Moon is a pain in the ass.”

“You’re in my class?!” Your eyes doubled up in size at the revelation. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility of him being in your class.

“Mhm,” he nodded, his teasing expression back on his face.

Well, if you had trouble paying attention in class before then you really were in trouble now.

Jimin was annoying. Not only did he know the answer to every fucking question the teachers asked him, but he also had the audacity to look like a fucking god sent from up above while doing it.

He sat at the back of the class, probably trying to avoid attention, but the truth of it was that most girls (and even some guys) spent the whole class looking at him. There was just no way you could not when he was sitting there, leaned back, gaze focused on the teacher spinning a pen so effortlessly between his fingers.

The way you spent your time in class went straight from doodling random things on your notebook to drawing full on portraits of Jimin. You just couldn’t help it. You were looking straight at his profile and when you came to it you were already halfway through your drawing.

“Miss Y/N,” professor Moon called, interrupting the shading process of Jimin’s voluptuous lips. “Would you mind paying attention to the class or am I bothering your drawing time of your new colleague Jimin?”

You choked. Everyone was laughing at you and you could swear you’ve never felt more embarrassed before in your life. Then you looked at Jimin and he had an amusing smug on his face. Nope. Scratch that. This was the most embarrassing moment in your life.

“I-I’m sorry,” you looked down and quickly turned the page to a blank one, trying to show him your commitment to the class.

“Don’t let it happen again. Alright everybody, the show’s over. I want everyone doing exercise number 15, you have 5 minutes!” He broke his gaze from you and went to sit back on his desk, waiting for the whole class to finish the exercise.

You sneakingly tried to look at Jimin again and noticed he was still smirking. You quickly turned your head to look for exercise 15, feeling your cheeks burning up. How were you supposed to look at Jimin ever again in your life? You were gonna have to move schools, you simply had no choice.

“Alright class, see you Monday. Don’t forget to do exercises 16 to 20 for homework!” Mr Moon recalled after the bell rang and everyone started to pack up their things.

You were dreading this moment. You hadn’t looked at Jimin ever since the professor had called you out. You had passed a little piece of paper to Lisa begging her to stay with you at the end of the class to save you from further embarrassment, but you felt the evil sting of betrayal as you saw her and your friends promptly leave class with an evil smile on their faces.

They were sooo gonna pay for this, you thought.

“Can I see it?”

You felt his presence behind you even before he spoke u, his teasing voice making you dread the next minutes. Was there a way the whole floor could swallow you right now and save you from this moment?

“Jimin you scared me,” you fake jumped, hoping it would distract him from his original intentions.

You failed.

“I’m sorry. Can I see it?” He repeated, the smug on his face never dissolving. He was onto you.

“S-see what?” You closed your notebook and tried to put it inside your bag, his palm pressing it to the table, making it hard for you to store it.

“The drawing you made of me.” The way he almost sang those words really pissed you off. He was enjoying this.

“It’s...it’s really not good…” you trailed off, half saying what you really thought, half expecting him to not want to see it anymore.

“Don’t doubt yourself like that, I’m sure it’s great.”

You felt warmth spread through your chest. How could you say no to him after that? How dare he be so confident in your skills?

Giving a sigh of defeat you lightly swatted his hand so he could move it out of the way and opened the notebook, quickly flipping through the pages until you reached the object of your embarrassment.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even make a sound. He picked up your notebook and just observed from up close. The expression on his face was unreadable, he seemed to be lost in thought and you were terrified that he didn’t like the drawing. Worse, you were terrified he thought you were a creep.

“See…” you said in a small voice while taking the notebook out of his hands, “I told you it wasn’t good.”

Your words seemed to wake Jimin up from his dazed state, his eyes looking straight at you. “Y/N, that is amazing.”

“R-Really?”

As in most cases, you were your biggest critic. No matter how much your friends told you how good your drawings were, you always found it in yourself to think that they were absolute crap. Usually, your friends’ complements only managed to raise your opinions of your drawings up by a little bit, but something about Jimin made you feel that much more confident in your art. You didn’t know what it was, but you liked the feeling he was giving you.

“Really.”

The way the crescent moons appeared on his eyes as he smiled at you made your heart skip a beat and you were damn sure you were probably blushing again.

“But next time, try to pay attention in class,” he got closer to you and whispered in your ear: “For as much as I love having you stare at me during the whole lecture, I’d hate to be the one responsible for your poor grades.”

You couldn’t move.

Jimin’s cologne and the way his saccharine and enticing voice had delivered that teasing line had completely paralyzed you. All you could do was watch as he winked at you and turned to leave, his perfect ass filling out that navy uniform.

“Come on cara mia, you’re gonna be late for the next class.”

How in the world were you supposed to not stare at him?

“Nice to see you again, love.”

You jumped up from underneath the safety of your blankets and immediately spotted the man with the fire-like hair sitting at the foot of your bed, red silky shirt halfway opened.

You were dreaming again.

This was just what you didn’t need. After spending a lovely day bonding with Jimin and your friends you had, for the first time that week, been able to forget about your sinful dreams with Taehyung. So, when you went to sleep that night you didn’t even dread to close your eyes (like the previous nights) because Jimin was the only thing on your mind. Now, though, that you were seeing Taehyung’s dream form right in front of you you felt weirder than usual; you felt like you were somehow cheating on Jimin, even though you weren’t even dating.

Without saying anything you simply lay back in bed and covered your head with your blankets, hoping he would just vanish.

It took everything in you to deny him right now, especially with that shirt he was wearing, but you had to put your foot down. At the end of the day, he was no good, no matter how hot he looked.

“Are you ignoring me love?” You felt the mattress dip closer to you and soon enough, his hand was running over your leg on top of the layer of blankets. “Mmmh...could it be that lover boy finally made his move?”

Your eyes shot wide open, your head peeking out of the blankets to look at him. Was he talking about Jimin? “What are you talking about?”

“He doesn’t know what you want love,” he continued trailing up his hand until it reached your neck completely ignoring your question. “What you truly need,” he then mounted you, his hand firmly grabbing your neck but not squeezing, completely asserting his dominance over you and you immediately felt your panties getting wet.

You were starting to cave to the sex appeal of the man on top of you. Suddenly your thoughts were fuzzy and your thighs were rubbing up against each other, making Taehyung smirk.

His mouth got near your neck and you felt a chill run up your spine as his breath hit your skin. “I know you can’t resist me,” he licked your neck and by the way his head suddenly moved back and the hand on your neck made you move your head to your right you knew he was about to bite you.

Suddenly a scream coming from the next-door room woke you up - it was Lisa and Eunbin’s room. You turned to your left to look at Yujin and she too had woken up. “Was that screaming?”

“I heard it too, I think it’s coming from Lisa and Eunbin’s room,” Yujin confirmed as she quickly got out of bed and put on her slippers, you following her suit.

You two rapidly made your way to the room next door but immediately stopped as you noticed Eunbin’s figure standing completely still at the entrance of the room.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” You asked as both you and your roommate entered the room walking past a petrified Eunbin.

The sight in front of you completely terrified you - Chanyeol was feeding off of Lisa’s neck, rivers of blood running down her chest.

“V-vampire,” Eunbin stuttered.

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theninjamouse · 4 years

Note

33 for Shore and Gaster maybe? Id say maybe a little off shoot from the Silks versions of them if you're feeling up to it?

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

(Note: This will reference stuff that happens in the fic. It’ll be left intentionally vague but there will be some *minor spoilers* for Lightning and Silks. Also this is a scenario that might possibly show up in the fic itself so...consider this, at the moment, semi-canon)

~~~~

Stupid, you were so stupid. You knew better than you try and make jumps when you couldn’t clearly see the landing area. But it was a path you had taken a dozen times before, you knew the patch of concrete that your feet would meet between the layered boxes that offered a shielding wall from prying eyes like you knew each scrape and scuff on your shoes.

But knowing a place doesn’t mean it won’t ever change.

The fall itself is a bit of a blur. You jumped, you saw that it was not clear ground before you but some kind of large metal equipment and twisted your body to avoid collision with the sharp edges. The burst of pain through your left side, the deep and damning snapping in your ribs, now that you remember. That had left you shoving your fist in your mouth, muffling the shrieks tearing at your throat as you breathed through the pain. Once you caught your breath, you had staggered home, limping and pressing a hand against your bleeding arm. It definitely counted as one of your worst landings, perhaps save for the one where you landed directly onto your current employer.

Cleaning up had revealed harsh red lesions and bruises all over your ribs. Every breath made sharp pain slice through your lungs. Reason tells you that you’ve got a least one broken rib. You shove it down, telling yourself it’s just bruising.

Even if it is broken, it’s not like you can really do anything about it. What are you supposed to do, take time off from work? Tell Cinders ‘Sorry I can’t help you track down the bad guys for a few weeks, I got a boo-boo on my ribs?’

Nah, you’ll grit your teeth and get through it. You’re good at that

So it’s with only a limp very slightly showing and long sleeves on that you show up at the club for your silks show, one of your less see through suits shoved in your bag. Grillby’s nowhere to be seen, thank god so you quickly slip back towards the dressing rooms. You doubt he would’ve outright said something had he seen you but you’re far more concerned about-

“Not even going to say hi?”

You barely bite back the yowl that shoots straight from your ribs as you jump. Teeth grit around a hissing breath, you turn. “Well, I can’t very well say hi if you hide in the shadows like a creep.”

Gaster peels himself off the hallway wall, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks. “For once I wasn’t hiding in the shadows; you just looked like you were too busy planning a murder to notice me.” His red eye lights dance over you. “Little warm for long sleeves, isn’t it?”

“I don’t wanna hear that from you, Mr. Turtleneck.” You turn on your heel and continue down the hallway. Gaster trails after you, silent save for the very slight rustle of fabric.

“You’re limping.”

“Am not.”

“Crash into another dangerous monster on a run did you?”

You snort. “Like I could afford to be in debt to another Grillby.” You’ve reached the door and instinctively move to grab the handle with your bad arm. Ow, nope, bad idea. You switch last minute, awkwardly shifting your bag on your shoulder and reaching out with your left hand. “Anyway, I’ve got to get ready, did you actually need anything?”

The door shuts with a solid thud. You blink at Gaster’s hand just above your head, keeping the door firmly shut. Your heart shoots up into your throat and your skin prickles from the mere presence of him right behind you. “What the hell are you doing?” you ask as calmly as you can, still facing the door.

“I was about to ask you that,” he says just as casually, as if his arm wasn’t trapping you one on side. “Or rather, what the hell did you do?”

“What, the limp? I just took a rough landing earlier, it’s no big deal.”

You can hear the grin in his voice, the smug bastard. “I thought you said you weren’t limping.”

Lip curling into a snarl, you turn around. “Look, you can’t just--”

You’re cut off suddenly. Because Gaster has leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours in a kiss. All annoyance, all pain and all thoughts stutter to a complete and utter halt. Your bag slips from your shoulder and lands on the ground with a muffled thud and still you stand frozen, mouth caught in a shockingly gentle kiss that can barely be called a kiss at all but rather the press of smooth bone against your lips.

What is he....what the hell...?

Then, pain shoots up your arm at a sudden grip and movement and you jerk back, head smacking against the door.

Gaster has already moved his stare away from you, hands deftly pushing your sleeve up your injured arm to reveal a harsh marring of bruises and scraps. “Several lacerations, most appear superficial but clean. Bruising, will probably darken over the next day or so.”

“Hey--“ Your voice is a high croak.

His hands release your arm and instead press very, very lightly against your side. His eye lights flare and you shiver under the press of magic that sets off your senses like a sudden wave of cold. “Two breaks, clean. Aorta is stable but further motion may cause puncturing.”

“G-get off me!” You shove him back, not that it does a single thing to actually move the towering monster. But he does let his hand fall and takes a step back. “What the hell! Why did you do that?”

“I needed to assess your injuries.” His tone is still clinical, though you do catch an undercurrent of some emotion that you can’t quite place. “I didn’t want to just grab you and possibly cause further harm.”

“So you kissed me?!”

“I distracted you.” He’s frowning now, eye lights still boring into you like he can see the extend of your injuries through force of staring alone. “Let’s try this again; what did you do?”

Head still spinning with the force of your racing heart, you don’t bother to gentle the truth. “I nearly got myself sliced by some kind of metal equipment thing, alright? I didn’t though and just landed hard. It’s not that big a deal.”

“You have two broken ribs.”

“It’s none of your business!”

He ignores that, shoulders very slightly loosening out of their tense hold. “You weren’t attacked?”

You blink. “No?”

A long and heavy breath of air leaves Gaster’s mouth at that and he closes his sockets for a moment. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, his phone appears in his hand and he presses it up against his skull. After a moment- “Cinders? You’re going to need another act for tonight.”

A burst of noise from the line has you wincing.

“Stop spitting, she’s fine. Well, no actually she’s not but she’s not dead, which is something.” A pause. “I don’t know, you’re the owner, figure it out! Love you, byeeeee.”

He hangs up, that familiar spark of annoying glee back in his sockets. “Well, you’re cleared for the night. Now come with me; I’ve got the keys to Grillby’s penthouse.”

Excuse- penthouse?! “Why?”

“To get those ribs taken care of of course. You can’t be leaping around rooftops like this.”

“You can’t- look, I’ll be fine okay? Ribs have to just heal on their own, there’s nothing you can do.”

Gaster gives you a flat stare. “There’s nothing you humans can do about it. I am capable of far more than what your measly human doctors could even hope to dream of.” He leans over you, a promising grin on his face.

The sight makes your lips burn with the ghostly echo of his kiss.

“Are you going to make me carry you, or do you want to hold on to what’s left of your dignity and walk?”

You gape up at him for a moment before snapping your jaw shut. “Fine.”

“Good choice.” He pats your cheek, picks up your bag and slings it over his own shoulder and then smoothly walks away, fully expecting you to follow him.

You do so, the fingers of your good hand reaching up gingerly touch your lips.

A distraction. That’s all it was.

Right.

…Right?

#undertale #underfell #gaster #gaster/reader #gaster x reader #Lightning and Silks #kiss prompts #shorester #WELL NOW #a kiss from a skele on this fine night #OoF extra

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

I'll Take Care of You | Peter Parker

summary ↠ you’re a med student who falls into the habit of patching up Spider-Man

wc ↠ 4k

warnings ↠ some descriptions of injury (but nothing very graphic because I am a wimp), light swearing, fluff

a/n ↠ based off a request I had for a doctor/patient fic with Peter. I didn’t want to do that exact dynamic, so I put a spin on it and had some fun with it! I hope you enjoy, anon! any feedback would be gratefully received :’))

It’s 11pm on a chilly October night, and you’re hunched over one of the high wooden benches in your university’s lab. The only light in the room comes from the lamp you’re settled beside, and you’re completely lost in thought as you practice your running stitches on a rather beaten and bruised banana. You can’t quite seem to get it right, and with each failed attempt at securing an even stitch, you find yourself growing more and more frustrated. You’re about to pack it in and call it a night when there’s a loud crash behind you, and you spin around to see the shady figure of someone attempting to break into the lab.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. Your heart rate spikes and your mouth runs dry, fear replacing your irritation as you watch a dark stranger jimmy open the window at the other side of the lab. You freeze, eyes wide in fear, and cower back as the person topples through the window, cursing lowly. They scramble to their feet, brushing themselves down, and when they take a step towards the centre of the room, your eyes light up with terrified recognition. “Spider-Man?!” You exclaim.

It might be dark in the lab, but that doesn’t prevent you from making out the red and blue lines of the familiar spidersuit. You didn’t think it was possible to be even more shocked than you were, but then the figure stumbles towards you and crashes to the ground, and you realise the darker spots on the suit are patches of blood.

“Help me…” Comes a high, quivering voice.

Shaking like a leaf, you tentatively approach the figure. He’s curled up in a ball on the floor, and you grab a handy first-aid kit as you crouch beside him. The darkest patches seem to be around his torso, but you’re not sure how to access that without harming the suit. As if sensing your predicament, the man reaches up and presses a button on his neck. You gasp lightly as the entire torso section of his suit separates itself and dissolves into nothing, leaving you facing the exposed, clammy skin of New York’s favourite hero. Your eyes quickly identify his source of pain, and you find yourself wincing as you see the issue: there are several shards of glass impaled in his side, and they’re preventing his body from regenerating and healing. You know you’ll need to remove them.

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, steeling yourself. You quickly unzip the kit and pull out a pair of tweezers, some disinfectant, and a roll of bandages. You try to keep your voice as level as possible as you speak to the man. “You’ve got some glass stuck in your side,” you say calmly. “I’m going to pull them out and disinfect the wound. It, uh, it’s probably going to hurt, and I’m really sorry, but it could get infected if I leave them in.”

Spider-Man manages a breathless, “okay,” which you take to mean you can start working.

Trying to still your shaking hands, you press one palm to his chest as the fingers of your other hand wrap around the tweezers. You manage to get a grip on the larger shard of glass and slowly pull it from the wound. The hero tenses and curses, but he stays still, allowing you to quickly and safely remove the piece. Once the first one is out, you grow more confident and manage to clear the others within the minute. After inspecting the wound and deciding there’s nothing left in there, you drag a ball of cotton wool soaked in disinfectant over the gash.

“That’s you,” you remark. Your forehead has a line of cool perspiration over it, and you feel a wave of intense relief pass through you as you finish bandaging his side. You sit back and lean against a wooden bench, a deep sigh passing through your lips.

Spider-Man looks down at his side, the erratic movements of his chest slowly calming. It’s for the first time that you’re able to properly look at him, and you find your heart beating a little faster in your chest as your eyes make out the shadowed lines of his abs.

“Thank you, uh…”

“Y/N,” you supply.

You can sense the smile beneath the mask. “Thanks, Y/N,” Spider-Man finishes. He scoots himself back so he’s also leaning against a wooden bench, his body facing you. “I usually have to do that myself.”

A warmth tickles at your cheeks as you push your hair back and away from your face. “You don’t have, like, a team of people to do that for you?”

Spider-Man laughs, his voice light and airy. “Not exactly,” he replies. “I mean, I probably could if I wanted to, but I work better alone.”

Your lips curl into a frown. “Alone?” You echo. “Isn’t that kinda dangerous?”

Spider-Man shrugs. “I guess,” he says, voice drawling. “I’ve made it this far, though, so I must be doing something right.”

You laugh gently. “Yeah, right,” you tease. “If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve passed out and woken up with a nasty infection.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says, raising his hands innocently. He tilts his head to the side. “What are you doing here, anyway? No classes run this late.”

It’s your turn to feel a little embarrassed. “Oh, uh, I’m a first-year med student. Sometimes I stay back late to practice some of my sutures.” You point up to the desk and where a pile of your abused, half-stitched bananas sit. “It’s the only time I can get some peace and quiet.”

He surprises you by nimbly climbing to his feet and walking over to your workstation. As he moves, he presses a button on his neck again, and his suit closes over his chest. You find yourself frowning as the suit hides the rippling muscles of his back, and you quickly clear your throat to suppress that particular thought. You get up and join him, lingering a little behind.

“Not bad,” he compliments. He turns to look at you, and you know from the way the suit’s mask twitches that he’s smiling. “Med student, you say?”

You nod. “Yeah. So far I only know the basics, but it feels good to be able to give back to people.”

Spider-Man nods. “I know what you mean.”

A silence falls between you both, and you lean down to grab a scrap piece of paper. You quickly scribble down your number before passing it to him, the hero accepting it cautiously.

“Take it,” you plead. “Just in case you ever need anything. I live just off campus, and I’m usually awake at night. If you ever decide you need a medical squad, I’m your guy, alright?” Your lips pull into a smile as he pockets the paper.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. He takes a few tentative steps back, looking at the window he entered through. “I should go. City to save, and all that. But… I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me tonight. Thank you.”

You manage a brave smile as you urge him towards the window, pretending it doesn’t shatter your dreams to bid farewell to the hero you know you’ll likely never see again. “See you around, Spider-Man. Stay safe!”

And he raises a hand in a quick wave goodbye before hopping from the window and disappearing into the night sky, leaving you, a messy lab, and a thousand thoughts behind.

You don’t hear from him for three months.

Over those long, twelve weeks, you start your first placement at the local hospital and soon become too busy to feel sad at his lack of contact. But still, occasionally, you’ll catch yourself with a dullness rounding out your heart as you think of the way he’d taken your number and since ignored you. A part of you is grateful he hasn’t needed you, but another is sad you only spent one night with him. Spider-Man has always been a bit of an idol to you, and the realisation that you’ll never see him again is a tough one to come to terms with.

It’s mid-January and 1.32am when your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You groan as you turn over, your body shifting beneath your rustling sheets as you blindly bat at the table before your fingers close around the device. You pull it in close, silently begging you’re not being called in to work a spontaneous night shift, and lazily force your eyes open as you read the texts.

[Unknown] hey where do you live ???

[Unknown] it’s spider-man

[Unknown] I need you

[Unknown] help

Suddenly you’re wide awake, and with trembling fingers, you quickly attach your location and send it off. You jump from your bed and turn on your bedroom light as you pull a hoodie around your torso. Luckily you live alone and have your own comprehensive first aid kit, otherwise, you know you’d be fucked.

You wait for about three minutes before there’s a sudden, loud knock on your bedroom window. Your heart catches in the back of your throat as you squeak loudly, spinning around to see a blurry figure behind the pane. You hurry over and quickly unlock the window, and jump out of the way just in time to avoid the very heavy, and very wet figure of Spider-Man as he rolls into your room, collapsing in a heap in the middle of your carpet. He’s groaning - loudly - and this time, he appears to have dislocated his shoulder.

“Pop it back in,” he whines, voice pulled tight with stress. He manages to sit up, hunched over as his good hand clutches at his shoulder. “Oh my god, I’m gonna pass out.”

“Calm down,” you manage, gulping. Luckily for him, you’ve just finished a rotation in orthopaedics, so you aren’t completely in the dark about how to help him. “Take a deep breath, Spidey.” You push his hand away from his shoulder and replace it with your own. “I’ll count you down. 3, 2, 1-”

He curses, expletives rolling down his tongue as you carefully, but decisively, pop his shoulder back into the socket. A sickening crunch fills the air, but a moment later, his entire body seems to relax. He sighs and slumps back.

“Thank you so much,” he manages, voice sounding a little weak. “I tried to do it myself but apparently that just made it worse.”

Your eyes widen. “Uh, yeah, that’s a terrible idea.” You pull yourself to your feet and quickly help him up, depositing the hero on your bed. “I’ll go get you some water, or something. You look terrible.” You don’t have to see his face to know that beneath the suit, the man is bruised and exhausted. His posture alone speaks volumes as he sits curled over on the edge of your bed, his head falling forward to rest in his hands.

When you return with a glass of water and a bar of chocolate, he lets you sit beside him as he gratefully devours them. To your surprise, the suit parts at his mouth and exposes the thin lines of his pink lips, letting you see his cheesy grin as he smiles at you.

“Always coming to my rescue, Y/N,” he says, voice a little stronger just after a square of chocolate. “Thanks.”

“It’s alright,” you reply. Suddenly you become very aware of the large, sagging bags beneath your eyes and the way you’re sure your hair is sticking up all over the place. “Anything for New York’s best.”

He chuckles slightly. Once he’s done with the water and the chocolate, he places both the glass and the wrapper on your bedside table and collapses back on your bed with a soft thump. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing gradually growing slower. “How’s college?”

You shrug. “Busy,” you explain. “I’m in the hospital most days, learning how to do stuff. Never thought it would be so demanding, but it feels good to be able to make someone feel better.”

“You should get extra credit for helping Spider-Man,” he ponders, voice quiet but sweet.

You laugh. “It’s not exactly been difficult to help you, so far. I can handle a dislocated shoulder and a few bits of glass.”

“Oh, so you want me to be more injured next time I visit you?” You can practically feel the smirk in his voice as your face heats up.

“No! Absolutely not. I don’t mean that at all.”

Spider-Man’s laugh warms your heart. “I know what you meant.” He sits up with a sigh. “Your bed is so comfy, Y/N.”

“Help yourself,” you tease.

He laughs again as he carefully rises to his feet, rolling around his shoulder as if testing its capabilities. “Feels as good as new,” he says. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Any time,” you reply. You stifle a yawn, and Spider-Man crosses his arms over his chest.

“Get some sleep,” he orders sternly. He hops over to your window and wrenches it open easily. “Thanks for the water, and the chocolate, and the life-saving,” he adds, already with a leg swung out of your window.

“Bye, Spiderman,” you say. The smile fades from your lips as he disappears once more, closing the window behind him with a quiet thud. But the grin quickly springs back as you realise he might contact you again, now he knows where you live, and you can’t help but find a little comfort in that thought.

Over the next few months, Spider-Man visits you semi-regularly. He has you text him your rotation schedule so to ensure he never bothers you when you’re busy at the hospital, and that alone causes your heart to warm to him even more. It’s always small things he visits for: bullet wounds, dislocated joints, grotty injuries. Things that would seriously harm any normal human, but since it’s Spider-Man, they only graze him. You fix him up and then send him on his way, and that’s it, simply. A fleeting encounter and then he’s off.

And it goes on like this for a while, until a warm evening in May. You’re sat cross-legged on your bed as darkness falls across the city, curled up with a nice book as you enjoy your day off from college. You feel calm and collected, and you’re about to light a candle and crawl into bed when there’s a loud banging on your window and you startle.

You stare outside, but there’s no one there. It’s dark, so you put your book down and tentatively creep over to the window, confused as to the source of the noise. Curiously, you pull up the window, and that’s when you hear Spider-Man’s familiar groans, and you look down to find him crumpled in a heap on your fire escape. Instantly you’re filled with dread.

It’s very difficult to actually get the hero into your apartment, but you manage to haul through your window eventually. You set him on the floor where he lies motionless, his breaths shallow and pained, and your blood runs cold as you take in the state of him. You crouch down beside him, first aid kit in hand, and find yourself at a loss of where to start. His suit is covered in lacerations and dark, bloody marks, but you don’t have access to him at all.

Just as you’re beginning to despair, you remember the buttons on his neck and carefully reach up. You don’t know which ones to press, and you certainly don’t want to betray him by accidentally removing his face mask, but when he releases another pained groan, you just push at a few random buttons. The suit deflates and retracts from his chest and lower half, leaving him in his gloves, face mask and underwear, but luckily exposing all the areas you need access to.

You survey the damage and feel despondent. He’s been very badly injured, and you’re terrified you won’t be able to help him. But that fear is quickly replaced by a determination as your brain shifts into doctor mode, and your hands start working before your mind can even process what you’re doing. You start by applying pressure to some of the larger gashes on his chest, stemming the steady flow of deep crimson blood until it’s a weaker trickle, and you feel confident bandaging them in a tight white wrap. Then you clean out some of the smaller wounds and stick a few smaller plasters there. Once you’ve cleaned him up a bit, the damage doesn’t look so bad, and though his pale skin has the beginnings of some deep, yellowy-blue bruises forming, you don’t think he’s got any internal injuries.

“How are you doing, Spidey?” You manage, voice croaking hoarsely.

Spider-Man groans softly. “I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore,” he quips, “But I still feel horrendous.” He pauses for a moment before grabbing at your hand. He’s still got gloves on, but you feel the tenderness in his touch as he squeezes your fingers gently. “Call me Peter,” he requests.

You nod as surprise settles across you. “You’ve lost a lot of blood but I think you’ll be okay, Peter. I don’t really understand how your body heals so quickly, but you’re looking stronger already. I think you just need to rest.” You glance out at the dark night sky. “You should stay here overnight.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t disagree. “Okay,” he says instead. His grip on your hand tightens as he slowly tries to get up. You help him out as much as you can and quickly settle him on your bed.

“I’ve got some clothes you can wear, wait.” You turn around and go to rummage through your dresser, pulling out a spare t-shirt. You toss it to the bed, and when you’re back by his side, he’s slid it over his chest. He looks very odd, sitting on your bed, your t-shirt on his upper half, his boxers on his lower, and a mask on his face, but at this point, you just accept it. “I’ll go crash on the couch. Yell if you need-”

“No, no. That’s not right,” Peter interrupts. You can tell he’s frowning. “You can, um, stay here, if you want. With me. In here.”

Your face shifts into a surprised o. “Oh, no, really, I… You should have space to spread out,” you say. You can’t ignore the way your heart beats deeply against your ribcage at the idea of cosying up against the hero.

“Please?” He asks, voice sweet. “What if I suddenly crash in the night? Or start bleeding out? How will I live if my doctor isn’t here to help me?”

You roll your eyes. “Dramatic, aren’t you?” But you walk over to him anyway and help him settle into your bed. You flick off your light and shut your window, and then you tentatively climb into the other side of your bed, slipping down until you’re beneath the covers, the warm figure of Spider-Man beside you. You’re tense, and for a moment you just lay there, breathing unevenly, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the fuck you ended up in this position.

“I’m, um… I’m gonna take off my mask,” comes Peter voice, quiet, but still loud enough for you to hear.

“What?!” You exclaim. You turn over on your side so you face him, your eyebrows pulling towards your forehead. “Why would you want to do that?”

He shrugs, his slim fingers knocking up against his neck. “It’s dark,” he reasons. “I trust you. And honestly, I’m feeling kinda delirious and this thing can be a bit hard to breathe through.”

You swallow deeply and watch carefully as Peter slowly pulls the mask up, up, up. It rolls up over his chin, his mouth, his nose, and his eyes, and with each feature it reveals, you find yourself holding your breath even more. Because it’s dark, in your room, but it’s not dark enough to hide his face, and you realise in a terrifying moment that he trusts you - Spider-Man trusts you - with his most hidden secret: his identity. And that makes you feel incredibly special.

“Peter…” You whisper, voice escaping into the air. Your eyes trace all over his face as he flings the mask aside. He’s got lovely dark, wispy hair, that stands up madly in all directions, and deep, caring brown eyes that watch your face intently. Your gaze shifts to his nose, and you smile as you notice it sits a little wonkily to the side, and then you find the air being pulled from your lungs as your eyes settle on his perfect, parted lips.

He’s beautiful. Utterly, completely, beautiful, and you really wish he’d kept the mask on, because he’s made it very hard for you to lie there as your lips quirk into a smile and your heart races in your chest, and just do nothing.

But then he does something.

With a shaky hand, Peter reaches up to cup your cheek. He shuffles closer, his musky cedar-wood scent filling your nostrils as he places his head on your pillow. His long, roughened fingertips move over your cheekbones, scattering trails of warmth over your skin as he gently caresses your face, his eyes gentle and loving. “Thank you for always looking after me, Y/N.” His breath fans out across your features, drawing a warmth to your face.

You swallow deeply, subconsciously nuzzling your cheek into his hand. You stretch out your legs and they tangle with his, and excitement rushes through your veins as his other hand finds your waist and he pulls you closer. Your foreheads are practically pressed together now, the warmth of his body heat surging through you as you gaze into his eyes. “I’ll always look after you, Peter,” you promise, voice soft and sweet. “I care about you.”

The tip of his nose brushes against yours softly. “I care about you too, Y/N. So much.” His eyes flicker shut, his long, feathery eyelashes falling to a soft rest at the top of his cheeks. You follow suit, and with your eyes closed, it’s as if everything else is amplified: his tender touch on your cheek, his warm hand wrapped around your waist, his legs tangled with yours. You find yourself straining closer, desperate for more.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, finally.

“Of course.”

And then his lips are on yours, moving softly against your mouth. It’s tender at first, barely even a touch, but as you push back against him, it grows stronger, like a small fire gradually building heat. You reach for his figure and gently wrap your hands around his waist as you kiss him deeply, clinging to him, longing for him, enjoying the feeling of coming home as your lips move together. It’s soft, and warm, and perfect, and it seems to span an infinity as you kiss him in the dark, bundled up beneath the blankets together.

He pulls back after a few perfect minutes, his forehead pressed flush against yours as he pants for breath. “I love kissing you,” he murmurs. “I love being with you, Y/N.”

You drag a hand up through his soft brown curls, a permanent smile hanging from your lips. “Feel free to kiss me as much as you’d like,” you mumble.

He presses another sweet kiss to your lips and holds you close. “Oh, I fully intend to,” he promises. Then he drags his mouth to your forehead and leaves a scattering of light kisses to your hairline, and you relax back into his arms, a sense of fulfilment blossoming through your chest. He’s warm, and soft, and you know there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here, bundled up in Spider-Man’s arms, drifting off into a gentle slumber. And as he presses a final kiss to the back of your head, you know he feels the same way, too.

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

taglist ↠ see this post to be added :D

@behind-my-hazeleyes27 @stiles-o-dylan24 @stilinskiswritings @stealth-spiderr @youngblood199456 @flyingburrito123 @kiwijulia @theraggedwerewolf @stixnstripesworld @mischiefandi @penguinchick100 @hcomet28 @aftrrglo @scottish-sim @cosmicholland @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @sweet-baby-cakes @apatheticanvas67482 @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @panadolle @rhapsodyparker @xxxxdelenaxxxx @blairscott @quaksonhehe

#Peter parker #Peter Parker oneshot #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker fluff #woohoo #I wrote this all this evening so if it's bad I apologise but ? I think it turned out kinda sweet n fluffy #any thoughts would be appreciated!#am still getting into the swing of writing #so any feedback welcomed #thanks for reading <3 #my writing #self-insert #y/n #y/n use #wahey #college!peter

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springsteenicious · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Fez/Buddy have been dating two years after a semester of friendship. Takes place season 4 (remember Point Place Time™). Kelso and Fez's friendship is close now. Kelso goes to Fez for advice about Jackie because Fez's relationship with Buddy has been the most stable out of all their friends (E/D are broken up; Hyde's never had a long-term g/f). Kelso asks Fez how he and Buddy never have any relationship troubles. Fez corrects the record but explains why their relationship is stable.

"All right, well, I have to get going. My parents are holding some weird dinner party thing that I have to go to," Buddy said. He pecked Fez quickly on the lips.

"Good luck at your dinner party. I love you," Fez said.

"I love you too. See you tomorrow." Buddy kissed him one more time, then grabbed his coat and left the basement.

"Man, how do you do it?" Kelso asked. He moved from the lawn chair and took Buddy's previously occupied spot on the couch.

"How do I what? Be sexy and charming all the time? That just comes naturally." Fez grinned.

"No, I mean, how do you and Buddy have a perfect relationship? You've never had a fight and you've never cheated on each other. How do you do it? And how do you keep Buddy from cheating on you like Jackie cheated on me? Is it because you're both dudes?"

Fez gave him a concerned look. "No, it is not because we are both guys. Kelso, we have fights. We are not perfect. But we talk about things. You are so, so, so bad at talking about things with Jackie. So bad."

Kelso looked offended. "Hey, we did talk and she told me she cheated on me. So talking doesn't work for us."

"Then you are not talking the right way. Listen, when Buddy and I have issues, we tell each other. If I am mad because he forgot to tell me about a meeting for the school newspaper and he left me waiting outside in the rain near his car for half an hour, I tell him. Then we talk about it and he gives me a calendar with all the days marked that he stays after school."

"Well, I have never heard of that. Eric and Donna don't do that," Kelso said. "See, I was gonna go to Eric for advice after I found out Jackie cheated on me, then I remembered he dumped a girl that was way out of his league and I scrapped that idea. Then I was gonna talk to Hyde, but Hyde's never had feelings for anyone."

"I wouldn't say that. But Hyde is stupid and could have had a relationship but screwed it up." Of course, Fez was referring to Hyde's one date with Jackie, which Hyde had told him and Buddy all about in a circle. Jackie had also told Fez and Buddy about this date while out to lunch with them, about a week after it happened.

"You mean with that chick Melissa from the radio station?" Kelso asked.

"Um... Yes." Fez waved his hand, as if he could clear the thought away. "Look, you just need to talk about this with Jackie. She kissed one freaking guy while you had sex with several other women. You are not equal by a long shot. So you should talk to her."

"All right, fine. I'll go talk to her." Kelso stood up. "If we break up, that's on you." He left the basement.

Fez didn't necessarily want his friends to breakup, but he- and Buddy- felt that they would be better off without each other. Perhaps the two of them having a serious conversation would lead to a civil breakup.

Fez laughed at his own thoughts. A civil breakup between Jackie and Kelso? Yeah, right.

---

From there, Kelso and Jackie have a verbal fight and end up breaking up. Their breakup occurs earlier than the engagement on the show, so Kelso does not run away to California. Instead, he lurks around the basement complaining about how Jackie cheated on him and was mean to him. Hyde defends her under the claim that he's sick of Kelso's complaining. Buddy and Fez attempt to set Jackie and Hyde up together, which fails. Hyde confronts the couple and they tell him to just make a move already. He does, and he starts a fling with Jackie. Buddy forgets to mark a newspaper meeting on the calendar he gave Fez, leading to another 'abandoned-in-the-rain' afternoon for Fez. Buddy makes up for it with cuddling at his house. All is well.

#ficlet #buddy morgan #fez #fez x buddy #michael kelso #jackie burkhart #steven hyde

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putas-in-suffering · 4 years

Text

Take Me To The Moon

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Latina!OC (Original Character)

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 18+ older

Warnings: Language, lap dancing, grinding on EZ’s massive body, vague descriptions of sex, the real warning here is that EZ is getting a lap dance with a full on erection and he can’t do anything about it (the horror! 🤭)

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: We’re taking a peek into the private room that Luna led EZ to. Did sparks fly? Or did EZ just end up getting exactly what he paid for?

A/N: Our sucias asked and we delivered! We got front row seats to the show Luna decided to put on for EZ. It’s got us jealous and ready to secure some clear heels for that stage because we want a man like EZ in our private room all day 😜! Annnnnnd, your putas have been feeling this Stripper-verse we created so guess who also gets more time to shine? Angel and his dancer girlfriend. We’ve got another part written and all we gotta say is: it goes down in the champagne room 🥂😏. We’ll be posting that within the next week. If you aren’t caught up on the newest gentlemen’s club of Santo Padre 🍒🍒, read here to see what all the fuss is about. And any music by The Weeknd has become the soundtrack for these fellas and their ladies, so indulge. Alright, you guys know the drill...enjoy and share with your fellow sucias! Feedback is the preferred drug for our addiction and greatly appreciated 💖💖

A/N part dos: Angel’s dancer girlfriend is reader insert, but to make it easier we’ve nicknamed her Candy/Dulce for story flow purposes.

Luna perked up at the sight of EZ in the booth, silently thanking Candy for the introduction. He was all thick muscle and soft eyes. A deadly combination in her opinion. It’d make her job easier. And it’d been a long time since she’d danced for someone she found remotely attractive.

She’d been ready to make her way to the politician’s corner, the section riddled with old white men with dirty pockets and even dirtier hands. They were a rowdy bunch, but they always gave cash away, sometimes five hundred dollars at a time. Santo Padre’s civil servants were hard at work spending taxpayers’ money at The Cherry Stem Gentlemen’s Club.

Candy had been dating Angel for a while now, a fact well-known amongst the girls. They all vied for the bikers’ attention, yearning to be in the spot Candy had carved out for herself. It was a nice setup and Luna had thought about asking her to introduce her to some of the guys, but she didn’t want to step on any toes. The women could be territorial and she wasn’t about to make an enemy out of Candy.

Thankfully, Candy had reached out and practically laid EZ in her palm. Luna had a sneaking suspicion it was more than a business proposition, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Candy was a veteran and knew her way around the club, both with its customers and the dancers. Luna would take all the help she could get, especially since the other girls seemed dead-set on excluding her.

“Hi, EZ,” She’d greeted upon seeing him, her faux lashes batting seductively down at him.

He straightened, a cute smile on his face as he shifted in his seat. “Hi.”

She moved to sit in his lap, grateful that Angel and Candy were no longer watching. She admitted to herself that she was slightly nervous, wanting to make a good impression, both for profit and personal interests.

EZ opened his arms, letting her settle onto his firm thigh as he held her in place. He kept a hold of his beer in his other hand, taking a long pull when she crossed her legs.

The short sheer skirt she wore rode up, offering up more flesh for his viewing pleasure. Her breasts were pushed up and together in the slinky black bra she wore. The lingerie was decorated with fine flakes of silver crystals, giving off the illusion of a starry night sky. She preferred to wear black at the club. In an array of vibrant colors and neons, she stood out in the sleek ensembles she chose.

His eyes tried hard to stay on her face, but they predictably went to her cleavage every time her lungs expanded with a breath. She let her arm curve around his shoulders and scratch at the nape of his neck with her long nude nails.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, her glossed lips pulling into a warm smile.

He nodded, his touch radiating throughout her body as he began running a finger up and down her hip. “Yeah, you?”

Luna couldn’t help it…she giggled. She was amused by his concern, enamored with the careful way he held her. It was a far cry from most of the riffraff that made its way into the club.

“Very.” She replied, brushing her nails over the back of his head. She was pleased to feel him shudder in response, his body telling a story entirely on its own.

“So,” She started, her free hand playing with the lapel of his kutte. “How long have you been a bad boy?”

He chuckled, licking his lips before he spoke. The action pulled an instant response from her body, her thighs clenching against each other as blood rushed to her lower half.

“Is that what I am?”

“You seem like it. Member of an MC. Doesn’t seem so innocent to me.” She explained as she fingered the patches on his leather, outlining the embroidered words with her nail.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“What’d you do before the MC then?” She challenged, arching a brow as she waited for him to answer. She had a feeling there was more to his story...more she wanted to know.

He repeated the action that had made her pussy come to life, licking his full lips. He shook his head and laughed, understanding he’d been caught.

“Inmate at Stockton State Prison.”

Luna couldn’t control the way her body responded. It was if he’d said the most romantic thing possible. Her nipples hardened while her hips shifted, her ass seeking out some form of friction. She was practically preening for him, a primal urge suddenly wild within her.

EZ noticed too. Because his eyes caught every movement, every subtle action that said she was more than interested in his rap sheet.

“You like that?” He asked, voice low and dangerously close. His breath fanned across her skin, making her nipples pebble further against the fabric of her bra.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“I’ve got a taste for bad boys.” She replied, just as low and just as close.

His fingers tangled in the ends of her long hair, his eyes watching her face closely as he took in her words. The moment was electric with tension and unexplored chemistry. It was a taste of what could be.

A moan permeated the air, both of them realizing simultaneously that the sound hadn’t come from either of their lips. They turned, seeing Angel and Candy in a heated embrace. Hands and lips clashed as the couple ignored everyone around them.

“Are they always like this?” Luna asked, eyes taking in the blatant display of affection.

“Yeah...in a few seconds they’ll probably start fucking.” EZ quipped.

She laughed at his joke, though the seriousness was apparent in his eyes. She decided to grasp at the moment, confident that he’d follow her wherever she led him.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” She whispered into his ear, letting her lips touch his flesh.

He turned and stared at her for a long moment. Long enough that she doubted her ability to persuade him. But soon enough he was nodding.

“Yeah.”

She smiled, standing with his help and leading him out of the section. They maneuvered through the winding path of tables and chairs to the dark purple hallway of the private rooms. There were black doors on each side, some open, some closed to indicate occupancy. She led him to the very last door on the right, seeing it was vacant.

He followed her closely, letting her pull him into the darkened room and shutting the door behind him. Music already echoed through the speakers. The haunting melody a perfect choice for the performance she had in mind.

She took his hand once again and directed him to the black leather couch, indicating she wanted him to sit. He did so, legs spreading wide as she stood between them.

“Are you nervous?” She asked, noticing the way he smoothed his hands over his denim-clad thighs.

“Nah...are you?” He joked, smiling when she laughed.

“Nope.” She said with a shake of her head.

She started off slow, her hands traveling over her body and syncing with the sensual beat of the song. She kept her eyes on him, though she found the task difficult. He was looking at her so intensely that she felt herself wanting to blush and cower. It was a rarity for her to be nervous with the patrons. He was an exception...in many ways.

She turned around and bent her upper body forward, dragging her skirt down to fully reveal the black thong she wore underneath. The skirt cleared her thighs and fell to the floor, her foot kicking the material away. She looked over her shoulder, flipping her hair so that she could see him. His gaze was centered on her ass, until he noticed her staring. She took the opportunity to bend nearly in half at the waist, almost revealing all of what the thin scrap of material barely concealed.

She took note of the way his hips shifted, the muscle in his jaw tightening. It turned her on to know the kind of effect she had on him. It was exhilarating...a rush like nothing she’d ever remembered feeling before.

Luna played with the waistband of her panties as she straightened, teasingly pulling them down to reveal bare flesh before she pulled them back up again. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, feel it searing her skin with every touch of her hands and swivel of her hips. She reached for the clasp of her bra as she lowered her ass into his lap and brushed against his crotch, wanting to feel a hardness push back. He remained still though, unmoving as she circled her hips in an erotic rhythm.

She released the claps of her bra and let the material fall down her arms as she pressed into his chest, feeling the deep measured breaths against her back. She looked up at him, catching his eye as she drew her bra away and discarded it on the floor. She cupped her breasts and threw her head back. And for once she envisioned a customer’s hands on her...EZ’s hands on her.

“You okay?” She asked, biting her lip as she stood and turned to face him.

“Yeah.” He replied simply, clearly caught up in the moment.

Her hands traveled the same path they often did when she danced. They brushed her breasts, then trailed over her stomach and hips to graze against her clothed sex. This time though, she felt a burst of pleasure with every tantalizing action, let the desire reflecting in EZ’s eyes lead her.

She knelt down and made herself level with his lap, her eyes focused solely on his. Her nails ran up the length of his thighs, skimming the muscle and tracing the metal teeth of his zipper. His hips jerked slightly, caught off guard by the intimate touch.

“What’s EZ short for?” She asked, wanting to engage him in more than just the grinding of two bodies.

He licked his lips, watching her with hooded eyes as he widened his legs further.

“Ezekiel.” He supplied, humoring her sudden curiosity.

“I like it.”

She ran her hands up his chest, still propped between his knees in an explicit display of sexual innuendo. She moved her mouth to hover over his crotch, her lips barely touching the denim.

“How long were you locked up for, Ezekiel?”

“Eight years.”

“That’s a long time to go without a woman’s touch.” She mused, pressing her bare breasts into his lap.

“It is.”

“We’ve gotta get you reacquainted.” Luna teased, using his own tactic against him as she licked her lips.

He smirked, following the motion of her tongue. “I already have.”

She pouted, standing once again.

“You trying to make me jealous, baby?” She teased, reaching for his shoulders to steady herself as she straddled him. She felt dwarfed by his size, his sturdy form practically buzzing with power beneath her. The veins in his forearms called to her as she rubbed her body along his, feeling the gathering wetness pooling in her panties.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Maybe.” She said with a playful lilt, leaning in close to the amused smirk he wore. She pressed her naked chest against his clothed one, taking satisfaction in the way he bit his lip.

“Don’t be. I’m here.” He said, the conviction in his tone demanding she believe him.

She did.

Her hips brushed against the zipper of his jeans again and this time she felt a distinct firmness that hadn’t been there before. She noticed the way he clenched his fists at his sides, as if he was using every ounce of strength he possessed to not reach out and touch her. She respected his restraint, but she didn’t necessarily want it.

“You wanna touch me, don’t you baby?” She purred into his ear, hands running up the length of his arms and down to the tightened fists at his sides.

“Thought we weren’t supposed to.” He replied, voice now heavy with lust.

“You aren’t.” She pulled back to look him in the eye, letting him take in all of her as she sat astride him. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to.” She confessed, continuing to rock her hips along his.

EZ’s eyes shifted, her words triggering him in the most delicious way. He caught on to her hints, realizing she was doing more than performing for a customer. She was letting him experience her in a way no other client had before.

He seized on the moment.

“How do you want me to touch you? Show me.” He commanded roughly, using his chin to gesture to her body.

Luna smiled, excitement running through her veins as she lifted a hand to her neck and gripped it softly, showing him just what she wanted.

“Your hand here.”

“You like that?” He questioned, eyes zeroed in on the way her hand held her throat. It was as if he got lost in the picture she painted, already envisioning his calloused hands around her delicate neck, squeezing.

“Mmmm…” She hummed in response, closing her eyes as she applied pressure.

“What else?”

She released her throat and trailed her hands down and over her breasts, cupping them together as she encouraged her nipples into peaks.

“Just like that?” He asked, noticing the way she tugged at the sensitive flesh.

“Yes…” She moaned, feeling his hips rising for the first time to meet hers.

“Keep going.”

“Then I want you to touch me...” She trailed off, skimming her palms down her stomach, aiming for the juncture between her thighs. She stopped at the last minute, meeting his stare as she switched course. “Here.” She finished, reaching around and grabbing her ass.

The vein in his neck throbbed as she continued to provoke him. He swallowed when she played with the waistband of her panties again, pushing the fabric down just far enough that he could see bare skin along her pubic bone. She let the elastic snap back into place, her hands now cupping her pussy.

“This is where I want you to touch me the most.” She revealed, locking her dark eyes with his.

He bit his lip and she swore she could hear a growl reverberate through his chest.

“When?” He asked, testing the boundaries.

Instead of answering, she raised herself onto her knees and maneuvered herself so that she was now on all fours, his body beneath her. She angled her ass, arching her back and lowering her upper body onto the couch at his right. He was entranced by her motions, eyes transfixed on her ass as she wiggled her hips, causing the flesh to bounce.

“Whenever you want.” She purred, letting her ankles cross in the air. Her six-inch heels dangled from her feet, a show of hyper femininity and a weapon of seduction. The glossy black material reflected the purple and pink lights of the room, the thick heel a heavy weight on her feet.

Luna moved onto her back, draping herself across EZ’s lap. He looked down at her, her head propped on one thigh while the rest of her body was spread out across the other. She stretched like a feline as she nuzzled into his warmth, angling her breasts up and wordlessly pleading with him to look. And he did.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asked, hips still swaying in time to the sultry tune that wafted through the air.

He nodded, signaling for her to continue.

“You’re pretty cute.”

He snickered.

“Thanks.” He said with a chuckle and he had the decency to look somewhat bashful. “You aren’t too bad yourself.”

She laughed, her hands running the length of her body as she soaked up the unadulterated yearning he rained down on her. She felt desired, beyond sexy at the way he visually devoured her. Not just lusted after, but wanted, in every way. It felt intoxicating. He made her want to break all the rules, some of which she already had. And there wasn’t a single ounce of regret to be found.

“I should hope so. Unless it’s not me that’s got you hard.” She teased, pushing against the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“It’s definitely you.”

“Good to know.” She quipped, easing herself up. She straddled him once again, addicted to the way he made her feel in that position. She could smell his cologne, the scent now stuck to her skin like errant specks of glitter. She hoped it never washed off.

“Time’s up?” He guessed, meeting her gaze.

She nodded, not wanting the moment to end, but she knew if she didn’t they’d end up crossing a line. One she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to cross. At least not so soon.

It was one thing to admit she wanted him. It was another to act on it. And while she’d let him know he could have her at any time, he didn’t seem ready to cash in on her words just yet either. They both seemed content to let the sexual tension of their private moment simmer, giving it a chance to boil over into carnal passion.

He reached into his back pocket, but she held a hand out to stop him.

“It’s on the house. Think of it as a gift for your newfound freedom.”

“I can’t let you do that.” He said with a shake of his head, pulling his wallet out anyway.

“It’s done.”

He pulled a crisp hundred from a wad of cash and handed it over to her, forcing it into her hand.

“Tip.”

She shook her head, shocked by the gesture. “It’s too much.”

“It’s done.” He stated, throwing her own words back at her. He wore a proud smile, pleased with himself as he stuffed his wallet back in his pocket.

“You’re not such a bad boy after all.” She teased with a wink as she got up and found her skirt and bra.

He stood, standing back while she slipped the clothing back on. She reached behind her to clasp the bra back in place, but he beat her to it, his touch gentle as he fastened it.

“Thanks.” She said over her shoulder, catching his eye.

“No problem.”

“Do you-,” She started, gesturing to his crotch. “You need a minute?”

He laughed, looking down as he shook his head. “Nah, I just gotta think about Gilly in a dress and I’m good.”

Luna joined in on the laughter as she reached for his hand and began to lead him out of the room. They took the same path they’d taken earlier to reach the section of outlaw bikers. Another dancer was on stage, her music upbeat and pulsing as she swung around the pole effortlessly. It was a captivating sight. The men seated around the stage took it in with both awe-struck faces and hard dicks.

They made it to the thin veil of curtains and Luna was just about to pull the fabric back when EZ tugged at her hand, halting her. She turned towards him, hand still clutched in his.

“Thanks, Luna,” He started, licking his lips once again and sealing her date with her vibrator that night. “For the dance.”

“You’re welcome, Ezekiel.” She beamed, shying under his praise.

“Is that your real name?” He asked, letting his own curiosity show.

“My middle name. Yessenia...that’s my real name.” She admitted, feeling his thumb begin to brush over the back of her hand.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you always make strippers blush?” She challenged with a grin, narrowing her eyes up at him playfully.

“Only the pretty ones.” He retorted with a wink.

“Charmer.”

“I’ve gotta be if I wanna see you again.”

Luna watched his face carefully, seeing nothing but truth as he flashed a boyish grin down at her. He towered over her, even with the heels. He surrounded her in every way possible and she was surprised by how much she liked that.

“Is that what you want?” She dared to ask.

“Yeah, it is.” He answered, a relaxed grin making its way onto his bearded lips. “And you? Is that what you want?” He repeated to her, stepping a fraction of an inch closer.

She waited a long moment before responding, enjoying watching him squirm as he anticipated her reply. She reached up and brushed a finger over his lips, feeling his breath hit her skin.

“Yeah, EZ...come and see me again.”

Sucia Tag List:

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@visintaes

@otomefromtheheart

@aquarius-smr-writing

@glimmerglittergirl

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@fangirlingaesthetics

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@brattyfics

@starrynite7114

@losolvidad0s

#ez reyes #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes x oc #ez reyes x female oc #ez reyes x latina!oc #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fx

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robotslenderman · 3 years

Note

Sascha! :3

:DDD

SPECIAL INTEREST TIME, BITCHES

How I feel about this character

I used to not give a shit but then you sucked me into them how dare you

They are baby

Mass murdering horrible torturer baby

They've... been through a hell of a lot of trauma and have to process it. They were stuck in that trauma for centuries. Now Ilias is apparently back but he died in their arms, they saw him turn to ash and they have to be dealing with the trauma of that, too.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Ilias cel Frumos, Beckett (but like in a snarky enemies to lovers kind of way), and ofc my own OCs Rose and Nastasya. Wasn't sure about Nastasya/Sascha for a while but suddenly something seemed to click the other night and I think they'd actually work very well together -- their personalities complement each other, I think. Ilias is warm to Sascha's cold, extroverted to Sascha's introvert, but Nastasya is playful to Sascha's seriousness, joyful to their solemnity, vibrant to their reserved nature.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Even before Rose became a romantic partner I shipped the two of them nonromantically too.

Also I like the idea of Sascha being a tsundere Vitriolic Best Buds with Beckett.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think that they would have responded far, far worse to the appearance of Elias Athanasios than I see fandom talk about (sorry, Ry XD). Like, not even as bad as I've mentioned before -- way worse.

(SORRY RY I'M HAVING A SPECIAL INTEREST MOMENT)

To start: there is no way in hell they're not dealing with hella trauma after the Dracon. That everyone agrees on, but lemme go into detail:

Like imagine not just seeing your lover die in your arms but being unable to really process it because your consciousness just got smooshed with someone else's, with someone who's mourning his own lovers and didn't really care about yours. Oh, and that person's a suicidal but also sadistic psychopath.

So you spend a few centuries torturing people, shit you wouldn't have done before except in extreme circumstances (if at all) and quite enjoying it, and then --

And then you get separated from the part of you that was okay with it because oh, it was actually the other guy who was cool with that stuff, and you were trapped with the brain of the guy who enjoyed everything you did and you felt everything he did as you did it and thought you wanted it, thought you enjoyed it, thought it was you who decided it, but because you were so enmeshed you don't know that you DIDN'T, maybe it WAS you, can you really blame the Dracon?

And maybe it was really you who made those decisions, because after that long fused together... sure, you're separated physically.

But are you really?

You've been together for centuries. After that long you can't have known where one of you began and the other ended, and it must have influenced your true personality. I mean, stick people in a room of people different to them and they adapt their personality and beliefs pretty quickly, like weeks to months, without outside influence.

Like, how much fucking worse would that be if you were actually stuck inside their head, for CENTURIES???

You're apart now, but in a sense you'll always be together.

Stick the both of you in a room and you'd probably talk like a pair of Creepy Twins. You'll finish each other's sentences because you'll both be on the same wavelength, you'll have the same idiosyncratic habits -- scratching your nose with the same finger of the same hand, tilting your head the same way when you think somebody's being annoyingly obtuse, tapping your fingers the same way on the desk when you're thinking.

You've been intertwined for so long that you probably have the same impulses now, the same thoughts, with only the most foundational aspects to the both of you separating you -- the Dracon's still got his sadism, and Sascha is still introverted, so that'll influence subtle differences.

But it'll be buried under seven hundred years of habits you developed together, opinions and thoughts and aversions and passions you developed together, working in sync for every second of existence, dreaming the same dreams, moving the same hands and fingers, doing the same deeds.

You were a gestalt. Are you no longer one just because you're apart? Are you really separated when you were one for so long? Are you even two people any more, or are you just one person with two bodies, now?

It's going to take decades to bring yourself back to a functional level after the identity crisis that causes, and that's not even counting the trauma of the Eldest, or the Dracon's trauma that you remember just as vividly as if it were your own, or the trauma of what Symeon did to you.

You will probably never, ever recover.

There's traumatic events people went through that follow them for decades that only happened over a few hours at most.

How can you come back from seven hundred years?

In a way, it would have been emotionally better for them to have stayed fused to the Dracon forever. At least they would have thought they were themself, then. At least they were used to it. At least they didn't have a conscience. At least they didn't feel as used because half of them was doing the using, if initially unwillingly. They were one; there was no conflict, just two people so in sync they may as well have been one.

Then to add insult to injury, right after the Dracon's pulled from you, a guy identical to the lover you witnessed die in your arms shows up trying to get your attention. That timing is suspicious AF, and any hope Sascha might have had of coming to terms with Ilias's death on their own time comes crashing down as this redhead just casually waltzes on in and just mashes Sascha's trauma buttons by existing, by looking just like him and acting like him and sounding like him and having the same interests as him and and and --

And now half of them is gone. But also -- not gone, never going, never leaving, who are they now? They're missing half of themself but also probably feeling like they'll never be their real self again. Were they ever really Sascha, when that was a name they took on side by side with the Dracon? But how can they be Myca when Myca is seven hundred years away, when he died the moment Ilias did?

Maybe it was Myca who died in his lover's arms, not the other way around.

I think on the outside Sascha would pretend to be furious at Elias Athanasios for posing as their lover, for having the gall to pose as someone they saw turn to ash, but deep down?

I think they're fucking terrified of him.

Because of the traumatic memories he brings back. Because he knows so much about Ilias and Sascha can't figure out who he "really" is and what his true motivations are.

Because after everything Symeon did, after everything the Dracon and the Eldest did, after the evidence in front of Sascha's eyes that Ilias was dead, dead, dead, how can they not be terrified that this isn't another attempt to manipulate them and put them at the complete and utter mercy of another Methuselah or Elder or worse for another few centuries, when they were only JUST set free?

Their nights as the Angel of Caine are done. They've been manipulated so long and now there's someone else using the person that they loved the most as bait to draw them out. Someone they know for certain did not survive. For their own survival, they can't do anything but disappear because given the forces that has had power over them before, they can't take any risks with this one. Sascha keeps trying to find out who he really is and if he's working for someone, what his angle is, but this time their brilliance is getting them nowhere and they cannot find a single scrap of a clue who Elias Athanasios really is, because all evidence points to him being the real thing but he can't be because THEY SAW HIM DIE.

And here Athanasios is, continuing to try to lure them out.

He's convinced Beckett, one of the smartest people Sascha knows, that he's the real deal.

He's convinced Rose that he's the real deal.

He's convinced Sascha's dumbass Vykosovich descendants that he's the real deal -- particularly the descendant that's their biographer, the descendant whose made it her life's work to know everything there is to know about Sascha Vykos. And Athanasios has direct access to her.

He's getting closer and closer to Sascha.

The walls are closing in again.

So, my unpopular opinion?

Sascha Vykos is the most terrified they've ever been in their existence.

(Second opinion, which I don't know if it's unpopular or not, but -- since they used their deadname for centuries before changing it I reckon they'd actually be pretty fine with Ilias still calling them Myca. But, you know, only Ilias, and anyone else gets turned inside out. Not even Rose would get that privilege.)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Not exactly answering the question but I am dreading the release of the V5 Sabbat book because I'm so scared they're going to completely ignore what BJD did with Sascha and go back to making them a villain.

Also worried that Sascha's canonically followed the Beckoning. I reckon they'd nope the fuck out of it after what happened in BJD. Something strange trying to manipulate them again? Fuck no.

#VTM #Sascha Vykos #headcanon #Ilias cel Frumos

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op-sheepy · 3 years

Note

6. dark law, 19. Davy Back, 36. the whimsical captain trafalgar law, 55. marine pet AU!

Oh, good eye. Those are some of my favorites.. Here is another long one under the cut. Also sorry for the late response. :D

---------------------------------o

6. Dark Law

Essentially my take (one of them at least) on what would have happened had Corazon not taken Law from the Donquixote pirates but left anyway when he thought Law had ratted him out.

Some details regarding this:

Rocinante returns to the marines and was able to submit the intelligence he'd gathered. This doesn't do much except inconvenience Doflamingo, as already acknowledged during Law and Doffy's fight.

Vergo gets discovered so he just goes back to the family.

Law does not eat the Ope Ope no mi since Doflamingo never intended for him to. At least, initially.

Because, I'm assuming, not everyone can perform the "Perennial Youth Operation," as it was stated they needed to be 'wise' or 'knowledgeable' and being a doctor does not really automatically equal that, Doflamingo had to kill the users he had chosen when none of them could do it so the fruit could go back to the circulation and he could feed it to the next potentially qualified person he could find.

Law's Amber Lead Syndrome got healed by one of these users though it was only because Law, himself, taught them how to (being familiar with the disease through his father's research as well being a good doctor)

Eventually, everyone realizes that Law is actually the most suited to wield the fruit (all the other smart doctors either having a fruit already or are simply inaccessible), certain that Law would be able to figure out how to do the ultimate technique. So, reluctantly, because he does care in his twisted conditional way, Doflamingo gives the Ope Ope no Mi to Law.

Law at this point had been raised as Doffy's right hand, all according to his plan. While he truly considers Law family and might genuinely regret making him give up his life, Doffy would still ask it from him because there is nothing more important than Doflamingo and his goals. A sentiment that almost everyone in his family considers true.

And Law... well...

Doflamingo rested both hands on Law's shoulders. His tinted glasses peering down, voice heavy with regret, "I wish there was another way."

Law's face remained impassive only broken by a small wistful twitch of his lips. It almost looked like a smile. He grasped Doflamingo's arm and directed him towards the operating table.

"You have taught me many lessons one of which was the futility of wishing for better circumstances." Law seated him and prepared his equipment.

"You taught me to take advantage of any situation by using whatever it is at my disposal." Carefully, he opened a package of sterile gloves. It wasn't really needed but the ritual of opening the pack and putting the gloves on one hand at a time always helped settle his nerves.

"I had expected you to do the same so I'd been prepared for this even before you gave me the fruit." Law lifted his eyes as he slid the first glove in place. "Don't feel too bad. I really am grateful for everything you've done for me. This is just me returning the favor."

He slid the other glove and stretched it over his hand. Softly, almost a whisper, without taking his eyes off his would-be patient, "I wish there was another way too." The snap that followed the release of the glove was too loud in the small operating room.

---------------------------------o

19. Davy Back

Early Heart Pirates stuff. And another workaround for writing with at least one of the nameless Heart Pirates.

A Davy Back Fight is initiated for an abused crew member of the opposing crew because Penguin couldn't help himself. The rules are a work in progress, hence this fic's state in limbo.

I really like writing about how these guys were when starting out. They probably looked too adorable, to be honest, so in the harsh North Blue they must have had a hard time getting treated seriously. Not that that would have bothered them (I honestly think they exploited it a lot.)

The enemy captain stared intently at each Heart Pirate then at the list of members given to him. The man didn't bother controlling the upward curl of his mouth.

"No powers. No weapons. Sumo wrestling with your navigator and hand-to-hand combat with your doctor."

Shachi choked and struggled a little bit to get his breathing back to normal. He waved away Penguin's hands patting his back. The pats were a little too harsh, clearly an admonishment if the accompanying glare was anything to go by.

Penguin almost felt sorry for whoever it was being matched against Law. Bepo, while just as incensed by the other crew, was way too conscious of controlling his strength to ever really hurt anyone too badly. The captain, on the other hand, could turn someone into a useless writhing lump of agony by systematically dislocating joints Penguin hadn't even known could be dislocated. Gruesome as severed body parts looked, the powers could at least make it painless.

---------------------------------o

36. The Whimsical Captain Trafalgar Law

More Heart Pirates stuff though would feature some of the allied crews as well. This is actually a series/multi-chaptered (or would be).

A Heart Pirates adventure fic where they all go along with their captain's whims all while trying to figure him out. His crew is so used to it they barely even flinch anymore.

Not to say they understand him because who knows what goes inside their captain's head. In fact, they debate that sometimes (a lot of times) the crew being divided among those who think Law has got a plan and those who think he's winging it (often switching really).

"You can't possibly tell me there's some sort of plan behind this."

More than half of the crew looked a bit skeptical, the rest looked defensive.

Clione held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll follow the captain wherever same as you. But you gotta admit that there isn't always a method to his madness. He really does do things on a whim."

"I disagree. The captain's just saying that but he knows what he's doing. Pretty sure there's a reason behind all his actions..." Protests started, so Penguin amended, "...that isn't just him being a bastard on purpose because he hates someone. Which is a pretty valid reason since we are pirates."

"How about that time we raided the flour factory?" Ikkaku asked.

Penguin's reply came immediately. "Discreet incendiary." A beat. "...also he hates bread."

Before they could celebrate, Shachi interrupted, "His dislike of bread counts as a reason and since it's incidental it doesn't count as a whim."

With narrowed eyes, Clione tried again. "The monastery? Dressing up as monks."

"Medicinal plant in the courtyard bred by this one priest."

"Marineford?"

"Allowed us to get intel and allies."

"And the emergency operations without anesthesia?"

"Possible drug interaction. Emporio Ivankov and their hormone powers."

So continued their back and forth. By the end of it, Penguin and Shachi looked way too smug. Truthfully, they both agreed Law was more impulsive than he let on, often unaware of it himself. But they knew the man they chose to follow always had a plan and purpose (though not necessarily present at the start, but semantics)

---------------------------------o

55. Marine Pet AU

Haha... Another one of those difficult to explain ones. Starring the Marines (particularly the original three admirals and Sengoku), and the Shichibukai.

Uhm... So everything's the same except the Shichibukai aren't pirates. They're animals. That's it.

It starts with a wayward flamingo wearing eyewear harassing officers near one of their HQs. Also the Marines need to improve their public image. For some reason, the best they came up with is to get a mascot. Hitting two birds with one stone. (Except they can't really hit the bird. They tried)

So the Marines build a zoo or a habitat. Here are the only types of pirates the World Government can tolerate. Aren't they cute and fluffy?

The public eat it all up. It's popular so now they have to commit. And really, these animals become so important their safety and wellbeing become the higher-ups' problem.

Kizaru is having fun. Aokiji is resigned. Akainu tries (he doesn't quite know what but he'll do what's best for the Marines even if that's getting that damn flamingo away from the reptile enclosure for the tenth time that week on a Tuesday.)

Will feature other marines as well as all of the Shichibukai. All of them.

He checked the schedule and sighed deeply.

Boa, Doflamingo, Mihawk.

He had the most troublesome ones. Briefly, he contemplated just letting his subordinates handle them but quickly scrapped the idea.

He wouldn't say these animals were attached to him and the other admirals but they got more difficult to handle the lower the rank as though these creatures' egos get ruffled. It wasn't a matter of ability. It was perhaps more accurate to say that they had respect. A modicum of it.

It should be Boa's feeding time. Another sigh escaped him as he headed towards the grooming room, a room specifically made to groom Boa's food.

It took them a while to figure out the snake's preferred diet but they found it out when a stray kitten had snuck in and Boa swooped in to swallow it whole. From there they determined that she would only eat cute animals--any less adorable and she doesn't even look at it. So puppies and kittens. And maybe bunny rabbits. Which was bad from a PR perspective so they've taken to grooming rats. Put a nice lovely ribbon and brushed them so they're all fluffy.

He entered the grooming room and one of the officers assigned there took a quick look at him, glanced down the rat they were grooming, then burst to tears (they tended to get attached.) He pressed his hand to his head letting the ice cool down his budding headache. Why couldn't he have gotten Jinbe?

Thank you for playing. :)

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bisluthq · 3 years

Note

It’s your kaylor historian here who still can’t remember my log in details to my KH account 🤦‍♀️ (so please make sure this anon just in case it isn’t... I fear them 👀)

Karlie’s tea post before masters heist:

Ok so I can’t remember who posted first and don’t feel like looking, but taylor posted a selfie and captioned it “Friday calmness” and we (kaylor fandom) had been speculating taylor was going to come out as bi on the last day of June / 🌈pride month🌈 since she’d been doing so much stuff that could be seen (and was) as queer coded. We celebrated the “Friday calmness” thinking it was like a ‘calm before the storm’ with the storm being her coming out.

I think Karlie posted after taylor, but am not 100% sure. Karlie posted a selfie with a cup with a caption like “what’s the tea” and the fandom, thinking they were still together, collectively lost our shit. It looked to us like Karlie was playing off Taylor’s post. (I’ll admit, I didn’t think kaylor were still together, but that weekend I was thinking ‘I can’t believe I doubted them!’ Lol)

*there were also rumours that the YNTCD video and single were delayed a couple of times and meant to be released sooner and serve as a soft coming out, but that taylor kept changing her mind about it and is also why she kept the tracklist length under wraps, because she wasn’t sure if she’d go through with it. She was way more vague than ever before. There were also rumours she had a rolling stone cover planned that she was going to come out in but it was scrapped —— I can’t even remember where these “she’s actually coming out” rumours originated anymore and I can’t remember if people had legit sources and gossip or if it was fan fiction planning, but it was mentioned outside the kaylordom too, so take that as you wish.

Then came the masters heist.

Now, to understand the thought process of Kaylors at the time, you have to remember that we thought Karlie & Taylor had a secret romance, Joe was a beard, Josh was a beard - but since he comes from a crime family who have done a lot of bad things (to put it lightly) and are stupidly rich, Josh had Karlie trapped in such a tight contract and has so much blackmail material that Karlie was forced to fake marry him against her will - remember, it was only meant to be a photo shoot for a Vogue wedding spread showing what wedding fashion was available, it wasn’t meant to be a wedding! But josh had his team leak the photos and instead of saying it was all for a photo shoot, Karlie had to say she was now married. <- that was the narrative and thought process within the fandom.

So the fandom thought 🛴 and Josh conspired to announce the purchase of big machine/ taylor’s masters which would derail her coming out plans. The fandom thought Karlie had no idea it was happening. Scooter and Josh were worried Taylor was going to come out, which would ultimately out Karlie since there were so many rumours about Kaylor already, and it would then out Josh and ruin Josh’s image, making it look obvious to everyone that Josh and Karlie were just beards, but kaylor was real. To avoid tarnishing Josh’s hetero card, scooter waited until the end of June to announce he bought taylor’s music for maximum impact.

(Never mind that someone spent $300M to keep a client in the closet) that was how we interpreted the situation (kept writing the fan fiction) and that it was a blow to taylor and a huge betrayal from scooter to Karlie because now they had extra leverage / ways to hurt Karlie.

So yeah. It was a very sad time. This also is why some kaylors think hoax lyrics point to their everlasting love “my best laid plans” = tay ready to come out end of June “your sleight of hand” = scooter tricking Karlie when he bought the masters and any information about taylor that Karlie mentioned innocently was used against them, “my barren land” = taken on a new meaning since Karlie announced her pregnancy, but initially it was seen as the land that was meant to be blooming with love was left barren and empty because of the masters incident delaying her coming out.

It sounds absolutely ludicrous, but the only way to understand how it was easy to rationalise is to understand how adamant the fandom was/ is that Josh and joe are just beards, Karlie is locked in a contract, and taylor is trying to free the both of them. If there were any truth to this at all, it is nothing short of ghastly situation for Karlie and paints taylor as a Nobel warrior trying to save her princess from the tower 🦸🏼‍♀️👸🏼 ....

Karlie had what I think was a scheduled post cause it was ad content , but otherwise was unusually silent on social media for a week + after the announcement. We thought they were grieving together.

——-

Now for Emily Poe. Ok so I really didn’t do my research - I thought Emily was only one or two years older than Taylor, so it never even occurred to me that the idea of that relationship would’ve been extremely predatory and badbadbadbad. I regret not doing my due dillihence when I was part of a fandom that consumed this theory. So Emily theories have been around since Taylor first had gay speculation. Part of this was because of some funny photos like that one where taylor is standing next to a truck that says “...gay Texan” and emily and a guy in the band I can’t think of his name were pointing to taylor and smirking. It’s a funny photo. I can see my dumb teenage self making similar jokes long before I knew my sexuality because LOOOOL GAY was a thing back then. There’s the video taylor made for Emily where she held up the “we love you emily” sign and she went to everyone she toured with including brad paisley to hold up the sign and make heart hands and just be extremely cute - platonic or romantic - both seem plausible - and cute as hell! The video was set to the dashboard confessional song ‘stolen’ which is basically just the lyric “you have stolen my heart” over and over again. This video got renewed interest when people went back and looked back at the you belong with me video. The idea of taylor and her make love interest holding these a4 sheets of paper with “I love you” written on them seemed familiar. The story of how YBWM came about was that Taylor heard her guitarist on the phone with his girlfriend and his gf was yelling at him for something seemingly insignificant/ the gf was painted out as high drama and her guitarist seemed miserable every time he spoke to her for a while. So Taylor had the idea of a song about a girl thinking her friends girlfriend is horrible, but turn it into a love story where the two friends get together - classic romantic comedy trope - she took the idea to Liz Rose and it was one of the last songs written for Fearless and specifically made to be upbeat and preppy because taylor thought the album was lacking that vibe. If you take the story Taylor said inspired the song and swap it from her male guitarist (who she also said she had no feelings for), and change it to her female fiddle player, the story behind the song can be the same, just tweaked to be hetwashed. Emily was a cheerleader and had a boyfriend when she toured with taylor, so it’s easy enough to take those things at surface value and think there was some truth to Emily. Also the two biggest gaylor rumours pre swiftgron came from comments on a gossip site/ forum. One was that ‘Emily was fired after she was caught relieving taylor of stress’ and how ‘emily was interested in law, but this incident cemented she had to leave the band but the swift team gave her money so emily wouldn’t sue for being fired on a sexual harassment issue’ (of course, knowing the age difference, we know this would NOT be the case at all) and it is speculated it inspired taylor to write breathe because she was so sorry for how things ended. They were inseparable and then after her birthday, never seen together or mentioned each other on MySpace again.

The other comment was that taylor ‘was a pillow princess in high school’ and that she was happy to receive but not give because she wanted to maintain her virgin status and thought if she reciprocated it would make her gay — the comment was something like that.

Of course it would’ve been incredibly easy for idk, some random on the internet who has never even met taylor to say those things.... but it was taken as gospel by the gaylor truthers.

People who looked further found a girl they believed was Taylor’s high school gf, her name started with L... but I never really believed it so I don’t have the greatest knowledge of that one. It seemed ridiculous to me she had a 3 year gf as a teenager and not a single person from her high school - or anyone who knew her alleged gf - ever spoke about it publicly??? That would be a lot of NDAs and payouts to keep silent, but a lot of other people believed NDAs and hush money was spent, so yeah... 🤷‍♀️

She also had some fruity MySpace posts which seemed to help the case for gaylor, but imo, it also falls under the ‘teenagers on the internet are dumb especially when social media was brand new and thank god myspace doesn’t exist cause I don’t want to see my old one ever again’ category.

Sorry for the essay, I felt I had been summoned and wanted to give background on the fandom. When I log back in I think I need to change my bio, I’m not really here to talk kaylor , but the fandom. Cause it’s really sad what that narrative within the fandom has become and heartbreaking what that narrative has done to fans, especially queer kids trying to figure themselves out. I couldn’t see how toxic it was for a long time, I’m happy I’m out of there now. but I think it helps to understand how the fandom thought and saw things as to how easy it was for things to spiral to the state it’s in now.

As old T used to sign off, - lovelovelove 💜

Brilliant post thanks KH!

#nat talks the konspiracy

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Text

For my Gracie dear. What would I do without you in my life? Merry Christmas darling. @vaguekiwi

"Well, you wouldn't really be in this position if you had accepted my proposal, baby cheeks. In fact, I'm practically drooling over the thought of you saying fuck it and coming to visit with a few surprises beneath that second skin you're rocking." Two sentences, two very different tones of voice, both trying to coax him in. Reprimand and flirt, the only possible courses of action for Wade when it came to them.

"So I guess it's true what they say; chivalry died when you were born, Wade. Every single conversation between us is proof and the world knows it." He grinned as soon as he heard the exaggerated gasps over the landline, always loved these tennis matches with his partner in crime.

Sure, the 'red devil' of Cliffwood often threaded barely subtle, often outlandish innuendos into their interactions and never denied the neighborhood a chance of seeing him draped over Peter, but it was, God forgive him, fun. Exciting and a little thrilling.

And also past their bedtime. So to speak. "I gotta go and I know Wanda likes to cook late. Go help her in the kitchen, Mr Gifted Hands. Vision might give me an A in the next exam if I told him I encouraged you to make his favorite lasagna." It won't happen, obviously. The Maximoffs, because Vision had adopted the name on his second date with Wanda long before their wedding, were usually chaotic neutrals that tried sticking to the right side of the law. Hopefully, Mr Maximoffs' morality would at least allow the man to add a five point bonus on Peter's next physics test.

"Oh, you finally admit my hands are gifted, Mr Parker? How forward of you." If there was one thing that he loved about being friends with the incorrigible Wade Wilson, it was how the man oozed sex like it was nothing. His surety in it, in flirting, in courting and joking made Peter feel at ease. Most people, even those like Mr Rogers with his slightly conservative views, enjoyed Wade's antics because they were harmless.

Most of the time. The guy had slept with two thirds of the town, after all.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Wade. What would Vanessa say of-"

"Please, the woman basically throws me at people in the hopes of watching me sleep with them."

"you being with me before her?"

"..."

Peter squinted at a shiny red nail, worried he'd somehow messed up Morgan's job of decorating him in the Christmas spirit. The lamp next to the couch is a tad dimmer than usual, right, he has to swap the bulbs. He'd completely forgotten in the midst of playing with Morgan and Rocky, baking them brownies, battling the upstairs shower mold, decluttering the toy boxes and throwing something semi appealing for dinner. There was a spare light in the, was it the garage? No, his memory had been reduced to physics laws and the kids' allergies, but Peter's sure he would have noticed. Maybe Morgan had hidden them in the office, Rocky liked chewing on light bulbs so it's not too unlikely

"Shit, Parker, now I'm thinking about that, Jesus. Christ on a bicycle! Hmm? It's nothing, Wanda, just Peter being a brat and a tease."

"Hey, I'm not a brat!"

"Says you. I bet a certain member of the awesome facial hair club could evidence the opposite. Actually, I'll go right over and ask, hey!" The sound of Wade distinctly face planting onto the Maximoffs couch sent Peter into enough hysterics he could barely make out what Wanda was saying.

"I sincerely apologize for the little devil-"

"I'm almost two heads taller than you!"

"that can't seem to mind his manners no matter how many times we try to teach him how to be human."

"It's," God, he's wheezing like a freshman first day of gym with Coulson, "perfectly alright, Miss. I'm the one that should say sorry for keeping him up so late, I know he has chores to do around the house. Lovely Christmas lights, by the way. I think you guys might win the competition again this year."

There's a tiny worm of guilt crawling up his throat; how could he distract Wade when Wanda had her hands full with an energetic baby ready to sprint out of the house at any moment?

"Oh sweet Peter," she drawls out the vowels, like they're honey and she's trying her best to stretch them out, savour them, "you really think so? I thought the yard looked perfect, but Vision insisted on decorating the roof to 'ensure our win against my dear brother in law'. And please, a happy Wade that's finished his teasing for the day is wonderful for us. He cleans faster and doesn't kiss my cheeks as much."

"Wait, you did the roof?" He knew the Maximoff siblings were intense, had witnessed Pietro stabbing flamingos into Clint's lawn just to add some color to his already bright remodeling a weeks ago.

"You haven't seen it? Tell Morguna's father to take you outside to see it while the kids are watching television. That way you can go back with an excuse if you get too nervous with him."

Peter spluttered, ignored the fact his cheeks were flaming, pretended he couldn't hear Wade's howling through the phone. "I don't, I wouldn't, it's not like, I mean. The, the kids will probably sleep early tonight."

"Perfect, you won't have an excuse and he'll finally kiss you. Oh, Vision. Hello, dear, I'm saying goodbye to Peter. That idiot might kiss him tonight."

"Hello? Hello, Peter. I'm very happy for you both; but may I request you kiss after midnight? I'm afraid I made a substantial bet regarding that kiss and was hoping to get Clint back over Banner and Natasha."

Great, he'd died and entered a hell where the only thing he could do was stutter and flush crimson. Typical Parker luck, really.

"SurebyeMrandMrsMaximofflaterWade."

He slammed the phone back on its pedestal, dove into the leather couch and screamed until his throat ached.

--------

"Daddy? Peter, daddy's here! Don't let him go to our room until we're done with the Christmas card, please!" He yanked his head from under the cushions, scrambled to the door, tripped over Morgan's race car, narrowly avoided the destruction of Rocky's Lego chop shop, hastily stashed a pink apron in the drawers by the door, failed to straighten his sweater (a gift from the kids' grandmother) and took all of ten seconds to fix his hair before opening the door. In the exact moment the owner of the house leaned against it to enter.

There's a second where realization kicked in, worry is splashed over both their faces, he darted forward to help so the man's heart didn't shut down on them right then, said man wanted to preserve such a young, healthy body; they tried to control the damage.

They failed. Spectacularly. Crashed into each other, somehow elbows and knees sunk into bad spots, bone snapped, ligaments wept in pain, a chest became winded, one of them got a black eye and the other a constricted throat. This was, of course, before it started raining and two idiots got drenched while piled up on the front door.

Peter gasped, wasn't sure whether it was better to lie under his dream, his wet fantasy, his goal in life or allow his brain some oxygen.

To be fair, this would only happen the once. He could breathe for the rest of his lonely life.

"Uh, welcome home, Mr Stark. How was work to, today, sir, that's not my thigh." Wade would know. Jesus, Wade would find out Mr Stark touched his dick for the first time and it wasn't even on purpose.

"Kid, I'm so sorry. Here I was wondering if I could give you your Christmas gift without ruining the box and now look at me. Peter, you don't have to come back to work if you don't want to-"

"Wait, you got me a gift, Mr Stark?"

"I will pay you for this whole month, obviously." The man shuffled back, attempted to shakily stand up like a foal and immediately slid down onto the sleek young man.

"Not come back to? Mr, ow, Tony, I'm not going anywhere. Not on Christmas, not ever. Look at me." Don't look at what's between my legs, Peter prayed, don't look at how you are between my legs, don't look.

Tony Stark glanced down, inhaled sharply and snapped his gaze to the au pair's. He may have leaned against what he hoped was his Christmas gift. Maybe.

"I'm not leaving, Mr Stark." The rain kept drizzling into the house, his throat continued to ache, the distance between their two bodies remained the same. But there was something in Mr Stark's eyes now, yes indeed, something Peter had resolutely ignored for the past six months while working with the sweetest family he'd ever known. It was the same something Wade yelled about when talking about his best friend's employer's face as it regarded the au pair.

"I think Wade might kill me if -"

"Rhode's is gonna choke me out if-"

"Are you two gonna kiss or not?"

They risked whiplash to peer right at, or, in Peter's position, upside down at Morgan and Rocky who unflinchingly stared at the ridiculous site their fathers made. Rocky even shook his head the way Tony did when he was disappointed. Little Morgan criss crossed her arms and Peter thought he'd sob because that's just how he taught her.

"We were going to put mistletoe on the door when you came in; we finished the holiday card months ago so that was the one thing left on the to do list."

"Months ago? I helped you two make one last week!"

"Oh yeah, how were you going to hang up mistletoe, daughter mine? There's no nail." A soft thwump over the doorway. It seemed Clint had given Morgan her own bow. And she knew how to use it.

They collected their courage, scraps of reduced pride, some drool and a tiny drop of sweat before turning to the man they'd been waiting for for so long.

"Mr Parker, will you do me the honor of bestowing a kiss upon an old man with creaking bones and heating hair?"

Oh. Oh, this was happening.

"I love your hair and I'll get you a walker that has a cup holder for water and a few pain pills. Mr Stark, will you kiss a kid from Queens who's so into you the red devil of Cliffwood himself doesn't dare sleep with either of us and get in the way?"

"Well, first of all. A walker, really, am I that old. Second, nice call on the pain pills, very good save on the hair. And please. He'd never get in the way of us two-"

"Great, are you gonna kiss me?"

"Why, Mr Parker. Don't mind if I do." It was a soft statement he would otherwise confuse as a plea.

"Fucking finally." That was a bit more of a pained gasp instead of a sigh of relief, but Morgan and Rocky were doing enough sighing for the both of them afterwards.

Afterwards though, when the blood is finally distributed to the right places

"Yeah, I think I broke my wrist and you should get that throat checked. I'll get the car."

"Tony, it's the fifties. I can get the car while you call Bucky to look over the kids. Anyone talks to me and they'll think you had something to do with my throat."

"That is a fantastic idea, sweetheart. Save it for later, maybe raincheck?"

"Get the car, Tony."

"Yep. Come on, you rascals. Help an old man out."

----------

Wade can't look at Tony without howling, mutters something about a limp wrist while Vanessa sighs and apologizes, compliments Peter on surviving life with a ridiculous best friend by his side. He says it's ok. Wade's his go to guy for whenever Peter has to get his head in the game and his lips on Tony's.

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mazzy-moon · 3 years

Text

A Lone Butterfly - Chapter 8

Title of Chapter: An Eye For An Eye

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Tags: Death, Blood, Violence, Swearing, Grief, Non-gratuitous descriptions of gore, references to kidnapping

Pairing: Javier Peña (Narcos) x Isabel Cotrille (OFC)

Summary: A year has passed since Isabel was kidnapped and rescued by Javier. Despite establishing her new life thousands of miles away from Columbia, her past follows her.

Notes: This is a rough one, but I promise things will get warm, fuzzy, and sexy in the not too distant future. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my story. Love you. x

Find this chapter on ao3

ONE YEAR LATER

The sand squishes between my toes as I take my daily run along Cannon Beach. It's cold today. I wonder what the weather is like in Columbia right now. Warm as always, I'm sure. I pass the huge coastal rock jutting out from the water, my signal that I'm nearly back to my condo.

I throw the door open once I get there. Despite the cold I'm drenched in sweat. I reach my desk and read Javier's letter for the millionth time. He asks me about my life here, and how it's treating me. He tells me Columbia misses me, and that he does too. My heart warms. Before I jump in the shower, I decide to quickly write him a response. At the bottom, I include an inside joke from a conversation that seems decades ago now.

'P.S. - Don't go punching any strangers while I'm gone. Love, Isabel.'

I miss Javier. Miss him so much it hurts. Our brief time together forged a bond between us I can't comprehend. I've spent many nights thinking of the kiss we shared. How his hands roamed over my body. It still gives me chills.

Even though he's not here, the memories continue to help me heal from the pain of my past.

It's been nearly a year since I boarded the plane from Columbia. Javier had been right. Moving back here was the best thing for me. I've felt more myself than I have in a long time.

My best friend, Melody, has been great. She's put her social life on hold to be there for me in any way she can. We've spent countless nights making hit or miss dinners and watching tooth rotting rom coms. She also referred me to a counselor the first week I got here, which has helped me in immeasurable ways. It's made me face my trauma, but also helped me cope with it.

Slowly, but surely, the empty piece of myself is filling back up. I still get nightmares, though, and I hate walking the streets by myself, especially at night. I'm wary of strange men, and I never go anywhere without pepper spray. I still miss my mother terribly. And my father. Remembering Columbia brings joy and pain.

There are good days and bad days, but I now have a hope for my future that wasn't there a year ago.

I wrap up a mug to send to Javier along with my letter. I've taken up pottery in the past months and it has been one of the many things to help me cope. I wonder what he'll think of the blue and gold painted creation.

The phone rings. It's Melody.

"Are you down for grabbing some Mexican tonight? There's a new place that just opened up downtown I've been wanting to try. Maybe we could catch a late movie afterwards?"

It was a Friday and I had no plans for the evening.

"Sounds fun, let's do it."

"Awesome! There is one thing though. I just put my car in the shop, is there anyway you could swing my place before?"

"Yeah, that should work. I'll pick you up around six."

"You're the best. See you then. Love ya."

"You too."

We say goodbye.

Later, I get ready for the night. Pulling a powder blue blouse over my head, I glance down at my bedside clock. I have a few minutes before I go to pick up Melody. I grab my keys, purse, and phone before heading out. I run back in, having forgotten Melody's gift. She went out of town for her birthday last week so I never had a chance to give her the gift I made. The intricate cake stand took hours, but I know she'll enjoy using it at her bakery. There's no bag, but it's too late to worry about now. I place it in the passenger seat and head out.

It's nearly dark when I get there. I hate driving to her place. It's cradled in between dense woods on either side and completely devoid of neighbors. I groan as my car reaches the dirt road leading up to her cabin. The looming trees extinguish most of the sun's fading light. As I reach the end of the drive way, I pull out my phone to tell her I'm here. I wait a few minutes but no answer. I'll just go up to the door.

I grab her present from the front seat and step out of my car. The damp earth cakes the bottom of my shoe as I tread up to the entrance of Melody's house. I knock, but she doesn't come. The lights are on, and I can hear music coming from inside. She must not hear me.

I twist the knob. It's unlocked. The minute I step inside I know something is off. Nothing seems to be out of place, but the atmosphere settles around me in a disquieting way.

"Melody, I'm here!" I yell towards the towards the top of the stairs.

Still nothing.

Something is wrong. I'm scared to go upstairs, but I do it anyway. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. The panicky feeling I haven't had in a while creeps back in.

I hear the cake stand fall from my arms and shatter to a million pieces when I reach the top.

The lower half of Melody's body lies in front of me. The rest is hidden by the half closed bedroom door. I rush towards her, praying she's alive.

She's bleeding. It's everywhere.

"Melody! Melody!" My heart threatens to burst out of my chest. "Can you hear me, Melody? Answer me!"

She lies still. Somewhere deep down I know my friend is gone. As soon as my gaze shifts to her face I involuntarily fling myself from her.

A shard of glass sticks out from one eye. Everything is such a mess I didn't notice it at first. I sob loudly, barely recognizing my own voice. Slowly, I shift onto my knees towards her. I reach out for her hand, noticing the scrap of paper clutched in its grasp. I unfold the scrap between sobs.

Ojo por ojo.

An eye for an eye. The phrase has been written in blood.

I run down the stairs and back to my car as fast as my body will allow me. I yank my phone from my purse and dial the police.

It doesn't all set in until after the police have rolled her body away, pronouncing her dead at the scene. They ask me all the normal questions and I robotically answer. I'm a million miles away. They ask me about the note then. I tell them I knew it's meaning the moment I read it. I explain to them everything that happened in Columbia. Their next step is to contact Officer Santiago to fill him in on the situation and decide on how to proceed.

I don't go home that night. They assign me to the Witness Protection Program and place me under guard in a remote location an hour away.

As I'm sitting at the tiny home's kitchen table, my phone buzzes. I recognize the number and pick up on the first ring.

"Javi," my voice is shaky and barely there.

"Isabel, I just heard what happened. Are you safe?"

"I'm f- fine. I'm in the middle of nowhere, but there's guards with me."

He pauses and I hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

"Fuck, Isabel. I'm- I'm sorry this is happening."

"It's not your fault."

"It is. We should've caught these guys by now. The fact that they left the country and weren't even on our radar- this is a fucking mess."

I try to hide my cries but he must sense it anyway. Something about hearing his voice after everything that's happened makes me finally let go.

"Shh. Don't cry. Listen, I'm gonna come up there. I can get on a plane within a couple days."

"No, Javier, you can't do that."

"They traveled countries to get to you, Isabel. I have to-"

"No, you can't do anything from here. The police are taking care of me, Javi. I'll be okay. I can't keep you from doing what you can to catch them."

We go back and forth but he finally decides to stay in Columbia as long as I update him each day. We say our goodbyes, and I almost beg him to come to me. I crave his arms. But I can't bring myself to be that selfish.

Being cooped up in the hide out cabin reminds me of my boredom back at the hospital in Columbia. I'm not allowed to leave and there's little to do here. I have endless amounts of books though. I skip the murder mysteries, preferring to drown myself in the pile of vintage romance novels tucked away in a rusty cabinet. Melody would have loved these books. She was a sucker for this stuff.

I've had to stop myself from picking up the phone to call her more times than I can count. It may not be medically possible, but I swear my heart physically aches at the thought of my best friend. I'd known her my entire life. I couldn't imagine life without her. I couldn't have imagined life without my mother and father either, but here I am. Life was cruel thing, hungry for peace and stealing it when you least expect.

After several days spent in solitude at the hide out, one of my guards informs me we are taking a trip back to the station. I ask what for, but am given no answer.

Once there, I'm informed I am to go back to Columbia. Javier's task force has caught Matías. I am the only one that can positively identify him.

I grip the seat beneath me.

It seems Columbia is not done with me yet.

#javier pena #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fic #a lone butterfly series #javier peña

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