#any drain is dangerous and hot...

[thedamesdrains]

does your drain kink apply to other appliances? like, kitchen sink?

Ooh, for sure!

Kitchen sink is very fun... little kobold helping with dishes when suddenly the plug is pulled... @w@

Really, any drain can be a danger for me... even a dishwasher or washing machine could ever improbably send me into the pipes... its my lot in life >////<

[fake-ascension]

brain bad but im listening to the narzissenkreuz questline ost and. man i want to play the quests again and i WOULD but i have such a hard time reading non-voiced world quests which SUCKS bc this quest series like. the fucking best and i would argue better than some of the archon quests

[izanacore]

“this love (will be your downfall)” | ran haitani x reader

one-shot 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: at her lavish birthday party, y/n meets the mysterious ran haitani. their night takes a dangerous turn, leading to an unexpected connection. but what y/n doesn’t know is that ran has his own hidden agenda involving her powerful father, setting the stage for a game of control and manipulation.

characters: ran haitani, fem! reader

warnings: smut (18+), explicit sexual content, dubcon, blackmail, coercion, power imbalance, age gap, manipulation, drug use, smoking, non-consensual recording, degradation, threats, criminal activities, abusive dynamics, revenge plot, creampie, face-fucking, tongue-fucking, slapping, cumplay, hair pulling, overstimulation, unprotected sex

notes: y/n just turned 20 (consenting adult), and ran is 35. mdni. y/n is also gullible like?? but it’s ran haitani, so we cannot blame her! if there’s any content warnings i missed, feel free to reach me.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the bass thumped through the club, loud enough to shake the floors, loud enough to make her forget just how many bodies were pressed together, dancing under the dim, neon lights. y/n’s birthday party was in full swing—private, extravagant, packed. she had booked the entire place for the night, and of course, almost everyone from her university was here. she was famous for this—for throwing the kind of parties people talked about for weeks.

“happy birthday, y/n!!!” someone shouted, and the room erupted in cheers.

she was at the center of it all—the mayor’s daughter, draped in a short red dress that left little to the imagination, a bottle of whiskey in hand, lips curling around the rim as she took a deep gulp. the alcohol burned down her throat, but the heat of the room, the energy in the air, drowned it out. she swayed to the music, hips rolling, body moving, tempting.

and then there was him.

sitting at the bar, watching. much older than anyone else in the room. the kind of man who didn’t belong here, yet owned every space he stepped into. long, lazy limbs, one hand wrapped around his glass, purple eyes locked onto her. studying her.

y/n drained the rest of her whiskey and stumbled toward the bar, pressing her palms onto the cool counter. “uh… excuse me, can i get another one of this? thank youuuu!” her voice was light, airy—drunk.

“nice party you have here, miss.”

she blinked, turning her head. a man, leaning against the bar beside her. tall, striking, his voice smooth like honey and just as dangerous.

her brows furrowed slightly. “uh…? do i know you?”

“my apologies.” a lazy smirk curled his lips as he extended a hand. “ran haitani.”

y/n’s gaze flickered to it before she turned away, ignoring the gesture entirely. instead, she reached for the fresh bottle the bartender slid toward her.

“well, mr. haitani, i hope you have fun tonight,” she said, voice playful as she tipped the bottle up, already prepared to walk away.

but she didn’t get far.

a firm grip circled her wrist, and suddenly, she was pulled in. too close. her breath hitched as she found herself inches from him, the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey clouding her senses.

“as the host of the party,” ran murmured, eyes dark, “don’t you think you should entertain your guests, hm?”

y/n tilted her head, lips twitching into a smirk. she was easy to persuade, and he knew it. “what do you have in mind?”

ran’s hand slid down to her waist, fingers pressing in as he tugged her even closer—as if they weren’t already pressed together. her free hand landed on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt.

“is the private lounge available?” his voice was smooth, teasing.

she nodded.

his smirk deepened, wicked and knowing. he leaned in, breath hot against her skin, lips brushing her neck in the lightest of kisses.

“you smell so nice…” he murmured. “shall i meet you there?”

excitement curled low in her stomach. she had just turned twenty. she wanted to try something new, something thrilling, something… mature. and she had a feeling this man could give her exactly what she craved.

she pulled back, handing her bottle off to one of her friends, mumbling a half-hearted excuse. they whined, but she barely heard them. her mind was already elsewhere.

ran was already walking away, heading up the stairs to the private lounge.

and y/n?

she followed.

the private lounge was dimly lit, quieter than the chaos downstairs. y/n pushed the door open, heart still thrumming from the alcohol and the anticipation twisting in her gut. but as her gaze landed on the man inside, her breath caught.

ran was standing by the nightstand, casually tipping a small packet of white powder onto the surface.

he noticed her lingering by the doorway and smirked. “wanna try?”

she hesitated. she’d never gone beyond alcohol before. never dared to. but tonight was about new experiences. about feeling something different. something… thrilling.

so she nodded.

with a quiet click, she locked the door behind her and stepped closer, dropping to her knees by the nightstand. but now that she was here, staring at the fine white powder, she realized—she had no idea what to do.

ran watched her closely, reading the hesitation in her fingers as she hovered uncertainly. “haven’t tried before?” his voice was low, amused.

she shook her head, lips parting slightly in innocence.

ran’s smirk deepened.

“stick out your tongue for me, baby.”

she obeyed instantly, mouth opening, tongue flicking out just as he reached for her. long fingers gripped her jaw, pressing into her cheeks just enough to keep her still.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he scooped up some of the powder onto his thumb and dragged it across her tongue.

“suck.”

her lips wrapped around his finger, warm and soft, and ran groaned quietly. she barely noticed, too focused on the bitter taste dissolving on her tongue.

“good girl.”

heat curled in her stomach at those words. she didn’t understand why, but the way he said it—low, rough, approving—made something inside her stir.

“wanna try more?”

she nodded obediently.

ran inhaled a line himself, tilting his head back slightly as he exhaled, eyes flickering to her. “try it like that.”

she copied him, the rush hitting her instantly. her body felt lighter, her head dizzy with an intoxicating mix of alcohol, drugs, and the heavy presence of the man before her.

soon, the powder on the table was nearly gone, and y/n was sinking onto the floor, high, weightless, consumed.

and then—she watched as ran shrugged off his coat, fingers leisurely unbuttoning his polo.

her breath hitched.

his gaze dropped to her.

“fuck.” ran exhaled, tilting his head, watching her like prey. “look at you… you’re begging to be fucked, aren’t ya?”

before she could even process his words, he was kneeling in front of her, fingers tangling in her hair, forcing her to look up at him.

“i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

his voice was dangerous, dripping with wicked promise.

and she let him.

ran yanked her hair, guiding her toward the bed before spreading her legs apart with his hands. his gaze stayed on her as he kissed along her inner thighs, lips trailing over her soft skin before marking her with bites. he licked over the fresh marks, savoring the way she shivered beneath him.

without hesitation, he tore her panties, exposing her completely. his eyes darkened as he spit onto her core, then used two fingers to spread her apart. before she could react, his tongue was on her, flicking against her heat. her hand shot to his hair, fingers tugging as a gasp left her lips, but ran easily pinned her wrists down. he ate her out mercilessly, tongue fucking into her before moving to her clit, making her a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

“fucking slut, your legs are shaking,” he chuckled before diving back in.

“your tongue feels so fucking good inside me—oh god!” she moaned, voice breathy and desperate.

ran glanced up at her, amusement flickering in his gaze. “boys your age don’t eat you out like this?”

she shook her head, barely able to form words. “no—no one’s as good as you.”

a few more strokes of his tongue, and she came suddenly, body tensing as pleasure crashed over her. her thighs twitched in his hold, breath catching as she rode out the high.

ran didn’t waste a second. he dragged his fingers through the wetness still dripping from her, collecting her release before slipping them into his mouth. his tongue swirled around them as he sucked, letting out a pleased hum while keeping his gaze locked on hers.

she could only watch, dazed, her body still trembling from overstimulation.

but he wasn’t done. his hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he gave a slow, deliberate lick from her bottom to her clit, making her jolt beneath him.

“fuck—” she gasped, body twitching from the aftershocks.

her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, overwhelmed. he smirked at the sight before moving up, caressing her cheek before landing a light slap.

“let’s put that filthy mouth to use, hm?”

she nodded.

he stepped away from the bed, fingers working to unbuckle his belt.

y/n slid off the mattress, dropping to her knees in front of him without hesitation. but the moment she saw him fully, she froze—it was bigger than she expected. she had never taken someone this size before.

“don’t keep me waiting,” ran warned, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

she wrapped her fingers around him, giving the tip a few slow, teasing licks before taking him into her mouth. her pace was careful at first, but ran was growing impatient. “tsk,” he clicked his tongue, watching her with narrowed eyes.

without warning, he placed both hands on either side of her head to steady her as he fucked her mouth. a muffled moan escaped her as he took control, his cock pushing deeper past her lips. ran let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of her wide eyes and the way she struggled to take him in.

tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she worked to keep up, but the way she looked at him—completely wrecked with pleasure—sent a new wave of heat through him. ran didn’t want anything else in this moment. this was heaven.

after all, her father was nothing but a corrupt politician—pulling strings, making backdoor deals with bonten, yet never paying what he owed. promises stacked on top of lies, and ran had grown tired of the excuses. the stress of it all weighed on him, and now, looking at her, he figured—if her father wasn’t going to settle his debts, then ran would take his payment in another way—by fucking his daughter’s mouth to release some stress. it was his fault anyway.

pleasure coursed through him, his grip tightening as he let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut. the sight alone had y/n growing wetter—his unbuttoned shirt exposing defined abs, his parted lips drawing in uneven breaths. it didn’t matter anymore if ran used her. all the pain and pleasure were worth it. she wanted to etch this moment into her memory forever.

ran pulled back after a few more thrusts, watching as y/n cupped her own breasts through her clothes, tilting her head back with her tongue out—wordlessly asking for it. he smirked. “what a fucking slut,” he muttered, stroking himself a few more times before spilling across her tongue.

some of it dripped down, staining her dress, and he shuddered slightly at the sight. it was filthy. intoxicating. watching her swallow without hesitation only made his smirk widen.

were all girls her age this wild? this reckless, yet still carrying that underlying innocence? it was a perfect combination. perfect for someone like him.

ran leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair, looking effortlessly gorgeous. y/n sat there, stunned. how had she ended up here—with a man like him? no one her age could compare. they were all immature, clueless, and terrible in bed. but ran? he had experience, and she could feel every bit of it. she had always wanted someone older, someone who knew what they were doing—and god, was she loving it.

“come here,” ran murmured, his voice low and commanding. she hesitated for only a second before moving onto his lap. his sharp eyes traced over her like he was sizing her up, and then he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“what do you think about being my girlfriend?” he asked, so casually it almost felt unreal.

“w-what?” her breath hitched. it wasn’t like she didn’t want to. hell, she did—badly. he was exactly her type. older, confident, devastatingly attractive. but she never thought someone like him would want her. surely, he was better suited for someone more refined, someone who had her life together, not a girl still figuring things out.

“i said, be my girlfriend.” ran repeated, watching her reaction closely.

“w-we just met today… shouldn’t we go on a few dates first?” she asked, trying to be rational.

ran chuckled, his fingers tracing slow patterns on her back as he found the zipper of her dress. “does it matter, baby? i can take you on as many dates as you want once you’re mine.” his voice was smooth, confident, leaving no room for argument. as he dragged the zipper down, his lips followed, pressing soft kisses along her shoulders, down her arms, between the valley of her breasts. when he looked up at her again, his eyes were dark, unreadable.

for y/n, this was exactly what she wanted. the moment she laid eyes on ran downstairs, she knew—she had to have him. but for ran? that was more than just desire. it was the perfect way to get under her father’s skin.

ran pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed his lips to her neck. his touch was firm yet careful, guiding her as she rocked against him, the slickness between them making every movement easier. his hands slid down to her ass, helping her grind against him as he let out a low groan.

“shit… you’re making me hard again,” he muttered, tilting his head back, eyes dark with hunger.

the heat between them was unbearable now. ran cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for a deep, messy kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a filthy rhythm. his lips traveled lower, latching onto one of her breasts while his hand kneaded the other. “fuck, ran…” she moaned, her body arching into his touch.

he pulled away slightly, smirking as he brushed a thumb over her swollen lips. “call me daddy, hm?”

her breath hitched, but she nodded, eager to please. ran chuckled, clearly entertained by her willingness. “such a good girl,” he murmured, his large hands roaming her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“gonna stretch this little pussy out by daddy, do you like that?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with promise.

she whimpered, still grinding against him, too lost in pleasure to form a coherent response. ran grabbed her chin, making her look at him. “answer me when i ask you a question.”

“y-yes… yes, daddy,” she gasped, her body trembling against him.

his palm came down on her ass, the sharp sting making her whimper. “good girl.”

she bit her lip before whispering, “do you have a condom?”

ran exhaled, brushing his fingers along her jaw. “not on me, baby. but we don’t need it, right? i’ll just pull out.”

“you promise?”

“i promise.”

but ran was never one to play fair.

he motioned for her to lift her hips slightly, his hands gripping her thighs as he guided his cock through her slick folds. “fuck, you’re dripping for me,” he murmured, watching the way her body responded to him.

how could she not? the sight of him alone—his tattoos on full display, his toned body beneath her—was enough to drive her crazy. his thick cock pressing against her entrance only made her needier.

“daddy, it’s unfair… you’re still clothed. wanna take this off,” she pouted, tugging lightly at his waistband in a silent request.

ran paused his movements as his gaze darkened. “who said you could demand shit from me?”

“just don’t want you getting uncomfortable…” she admitted, ran grinned at the sight. that sweet, innocent expression—ran could never get enough of it.

ran kissed her again, this time guiding her onto her back until she was lying beneath him. he pulled off his polo shirt in front of her, revealing his tattoos, then discarded his pants. before y/n could even process the sight, ran was already pressing inside her, stretching her out in a way that had her moaning loudly. he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, angling deeper.

the way she clenched around him had his breath hitching. she was gripping him so perfectly, it was addictive—too good. he was getting lost in the feeling, in the way her body wrapped around him. it had him groaning low in his throat.

“fuck, your pussy’s so tight—won’t even let me go, huh?”

y/n felt overwhelmed, every sensation making her dizzy. was it just because of him? was it the drugs affecting her system? or was she just too horny? regardless, she loved everything ran was giving her.

but then, ran suddenly stopped.

“ran—daddy—please!” she whined, already a mess beneath him.

he chuckled at her desperation, amusement flickering in his gaze. “what does my baby want?” his voice was thick with pleasure, just as affected as she was.

“want—you! want more of you.”

“say you’re my girlfriend first, then i’ll move.”

“w-what?”

ran chuckled, tilting his head. “already dumbfucked, baby? i said, tell me you wanna be my girlfriend, and i’ll give you what you want.”

“i am! i’m your girlfriend now—please! please, i want more!”

“you mean that?”

“y-yes! just—please—”

ran pushed back inside her, this time moving faster and deeper. y/n couldn't think straight anymore, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. she felt like she was drowning in it.

meanwhile, in ran's mind, everything was going exactly as he wanted. his plan was set in motion, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. the way she responded to him was just a bonus.

"daddy, i'm gonna-" y/n gasped, her body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.

with a few more thrusts, she came undone again, her body trembling. tears pricked at the corners of her eyes on how intense it all felt.

but ran wasn't finished yet. instead, he pulled out and leaned back against the headboard, grabbing y/n's arms to guide her into position. her back pressed against his chest, her legs spread as he helped her settle over him.

easily sliding back inside her, ran held her thighs, keeping her steady as he moved again. y/n buried her face in his neck, breathy moans spilling from her lips. her lips brushed against his skin before she captured his mouth in a desperate kiss, and ran, amused, let her take what she wanted.

her tongue slipping into his mouth in a messy kiss. ran didn’t pull away—in fact, he enjoyed how needy she was for him.

“fuck, i’m getting addicted to this pussy,” he groaned, his pace becoming rougher, faster. the pleasure was too much, building inside y/n again until she was teetering on the edge, “only mine to fuck.”

“shit, baby, i’m close,” ran gritted out, his grip tightening on her thighs.

“daddy… pull out…” y/n managed to whisper between her moans, her body trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

but her words fell on deaf ears as he kept fucking her.

“ran, please—” she was in a position where she couldn’t move, her legs held together by ran.

shit, she thought. ran wasn’t pulling out—but with how good it felt, she didn’t want him to, either.

“fuck! fuck!!!” ran cursed, gripping her tighter as he reached his peak, his movements growing more intense as he pushed deeper. he came inside her, wanting to bury himself as far as possible.

the sensation overwhelmed y/n, sending her over the edge right after him. her mind went blank, lost in the pleasure that consumed her.

all her overthinking disappeared the moment she felt his warm release. it was the first time someone had come inside her, and the feeling was different—so much better than pulling out or using a condom. she’d just take a pill later. for now, she wanted to feel the sensation of ran’s cum filling her.

her body trembled in his hold, breaths uneven as she tried to steady herself. ran didn’t pull away immediately, rolling his hips slowly drawing out every last drop of his release, making sure he filled her completely. silence filled the room, broken only by their heavy breathing.

ran carefully lowered her leg before slowly pulling out, a low sigh escaping him at the loss of warmth. he couldn’t believe it—out of all the women he’d been with, this was the most intense sex he’d ever had. and it was with her. the daughter of the bastard he was supposed to be after. fifteen years younger than him. fuck.

he let her rest against his chest, both of them catching their breaths, bodies still buzzing from the high. his fingers absentmindedly brushed strands of hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. reaching over to the nightstand, ran grabbed a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced ease before taking a slow drag, the smoke curling lazily in the dimly lit room.

after a few moments, y/n tilted her head up, looking at him with a sweet, dazed smile. god, he was gorgeous. she still couldn’t believe someone like him was finally hers. her father always dismissed her past boyfriends, calling them lowlifes, immature, unworthy of her. but maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. ran was older, mature, and carried himself with a sense of class. he wasn’t like the boys her age. surely, her father would approve of him.

even if they had just met.

but, well… the dates could come after, just like ran said. right?

but for ran… well, he had other plans.

her phone buzzed on the nightstand, drawing her attention. she reached for it, settling back against ran’s chest as she read the message.

it was from her father, asking what time she’d be home since it was already late—and reminding her that he had only booked the venue until 1 a.m.

he took a slow drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he peeked at her screen. almost immediately, a wicked idea took root in his mind.

“let me take you home,” he offered, his voice sweet, innocent—completely masking the real intentions brewing beneath.

“okay!” she beamed, excitement lacing her tone. “oh! i’ll introduce you to my dad too, if that’s okay? i’m sure he’ll love you!”

ran took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl past his lips as he watched her with amusement. he simply nodded, playing along. things were unfolding far smoother than he could have hoped. he could already picture the bastard’s face when she introduced him as her boyfriend. after everything her father had done to bonten—after the headache he’d caused by stirring conflict between him and koko over an unpaid debt—ran was going to enjoy every second of this.

once they were dressed, they headed out to ran’s car.

the ride to her house was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of ran’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. his other hand, however, rested on her inner thigh, his touch light yet possessive. and the craziest part? y/n didn’t mind. at all. despite the fact that she’d just met him tonight—and he was already her boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.

out of nowhere, she broke the silence. “how do you even know me, by the way?”

ran smirked, eyes still on the road. “you’re the mayor’s precious daughter. how could i not?”

“oh,” she muttered. “i just figured you wouldn’t care. y’know, since you’re older, probably busy with your adult life. honestly, i thought you might’ve been married or something…”

ran let out a low chuckle. “nah. well, thank god i’m not married, or i wouldn’t have been able to meet (fuck) you.” he shot her a wink, and just like that, her face burned.

smooth talker. how gullible of her.

soon, they pulled up in front of her house. big, grand—exactly what you’d expect from the mayor’s residence.

“wait, give me a sec.” she fished through her bag, pulling out a compact mirror. the moment she caught sight of the marks blooming along her collarbone and chest, her stomach dropped. “shit. my dad’s gonna kill me.”

ran only chuckled, shrugging off his coat and draping it over her shoulders. “there.”

she looked up at him, touched by the gesture. “thank you,” she said softly, slipping her arms into the sleeves.

ran leaned against the car door, tilting his head. “ready?”

before she could even answer, he stepped out and made his way to her side, opening the door for her.

what a gentleman. she felt warmth spread through her chest. funny, how even the bare minimum had her blushing. but could she blame herself? no guy had ever treated her like this before. they only ever saw her as the mayor’s daughter—an accomplishment to claim, someone to fuck just to say they did.

she approached the guard at the front door, her fingers laced with ran’s. “uh, where’s my dad?”

“he’s in the patio, ma’am.”

“okay, thank you.”

without hesitation, she stepped inside, pulling ran along with her. the house was as grand as ever. when she spotted her father outside, she slid open the glass door and called out, “dad! i’m home!”

her father turned, his face softening as he pulled her into a warm embrace. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

they pulled away, and she smiled up at him. “dad, i want you to meet someone.”

he raised an eyebrow, curious. she turned slightly and signaled for ran to come over. he did, leisurely making his way toward them.

the moment her father saw him, all color drained from his face.

“dad, this is my boyfriend, ran haitani.”

ran bowed slightly, his smirk never faltering. “pleasure to meet you, sir.”

her father stood frozen, staring up at the tall man before him like he’d seen a ghost.

“dad?” she frowned. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, honey. i’m okay.” his voice wavered, though. his hands trembled slightly at his sides.

because this—this was a nightmare.

ran haitani. the very man he had been running from. the man who had been threatening his life over the debts he couldn’t pay. the same debts that stemmed from his desperation, from his greed. he had gone to bonten himself, requested their help to get rid of his political opponent when it seemed like he was going to lose the election. and bonten did their job well—flawlessly, in fact. but the price? far more than he ever imagined. higher than his assets, higher than anything he could afford.

and the longer he didn’t pay, the higher the debt climbed.

and now—now that debt had walked right through his front door, holding his daughter’s hand.

“dad, i just need to fix something in my room. can you keep ran company for a bit? he’s staying over tonight,” y/n said casually.

“but, y/n—” her father started, but she was already hurrying upstairs, leaving him alone with ran.

the moment she was out of sight, his expression darkened. “what the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

ran only smirked, “just here to collect what you owe me.”

“leave my daughter out of this! she’s only twenty!” his voice was low but seething, trying to keep his anger contained.

ran exhaled a quiet chuckle, his amusement barely hidden. “even better. never had a girl that young before.”

rage flared in the mayor’s eyes, and his fists clenched. he took a step forward, ready to throw a punch, but ran barely moved. “i wouldn’t do that if i were you,” he warned, his tone light but laced with something dangerous.

ran pulled out his phone, showing y/n’s father a video of him and his daughter from earlier. apparently, ran had placed a camera in the room, recording everything they did—from y/n doing drugs to them having sex.

ran smirked, watching the mayor’s face drain of color. he tilted his phone just enough for him to see before pulling it away. “relax,” he drawled, slipping the device back into his pocket. “i’m not that cruel. yet.”

the mayor swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with unease.

“one wrong move, and this goes public,” ran continued, voice smooth yet deadly. “your sweet little girl? ruined. and you? well, you’ll go down with her.” he let out a low chuckle. “wouldn’t want the city’s beloved mayor to have a scandal like this, huh? your precious daughter exposed?”

ran took a step closer, lowering his voice. “but let’s be real, that’s not even the worst of it.” his smirk widened. “see, i could just expose what you did. how you crawled to bonten, begged us to get rid of your opponent because you were too much of a coward to lose.”

the mayor’s face twisted in pure panic. “please, don’t!” he hissed, voice barely above a whisper. “and leave her out of this. i swear i’ll pay you. just give me time. i’ll give you whatever you want!”

“nah,” ran scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “the only good thing i got from all your bullshit is your daughter’s body. i’m keeping her.”

her father’s jaw clenched, but ran only chuckled, clearly entertained by his reaction.

before he could respond, y/n’s voice called from upstairs. “ran, come up here!!”

“that’s my cue,” ran grinned. “time for round two.”

he laughed as he walked away, leaving the mayor standing there, frozen in place. he’s done for sure…

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Ease it all up!

Sevika x Female Reader (Fluff)

Thinking about having Sevika laid ontop of you as you give her a massage. ��

A/N: I missed fluff sm, ughh it feels good to be back! Short + i didn’t know how to end it LMAO

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

As dangerous as her job was, your girlfriend didn’t back down. Her loyalty towards Zaun was unshakable, for she’d risk her own life to protect it.

Her job as Silco’s second was what slowly drained her. Leaving early in the morning and returning late at night, that was her schedule. One you hated. She’d return exhausted and too lazy to do anything but sleep. You’d barely see her throughout the day, and she’d made sure you stayed as far away as you could from her job. Your girlfriend knew you’d probably show up to wherever she was just to see her.

But, the rare occasions where she’d latch onto you and force you to help ease her tense muscles was what made everything worth it.

That was where you currently were.

Sevika laid ontop of you, face nuzzled into your neck with her arms wrapped around you, the two of you relaxed on the couch. Your fingers entangled themselves into your girlfriend’s dark hair, massaging away any tension. Your job was easy; to support your muscular, hot, gorgeous, pretty, smart, and stunning girlfriend.

Her breathing had slowed in the past few minutes and that meant she was finally getting the ease she, clearly, needed. Her body going limp against yours, you peck her shoulders up with kisses. “Just like that..” She lazily gruffed out, enjoying herself.

With a smile, you begin working on her shoulders. Kneading her flesh and reeling out all of the remaining stress from her weary body. “You push yourself too hard, Vika.” You felt her scoff and nuzzle deeper into your neck, pressing heavy kisses on your flesh. “Don’t stop.” Was her smirked out response. She didn’t want to have a proper conversation when all she could really focus on was your fingers.

Without another word, you work your way to the back of her neck and continue there. Your fingers pressed soothing motions on her stiff muscles; which she had a lot of. All you needed— and wanted— to do was help your girlfriend unwind after the many restless weeks she’d had.

One thing was certain: you had an affect on her, making her relax with a few minutes of gentle massages. With Sevika being latched onto you, talking for hours wouldn’t work to get her off of you. Instead, she’d only humm in acknowledgment to let you know she was still listening. Your voice was something she could never get enough of. Your girlfriend wasn’t one to back down easily, not when it came to you.

Lucky for her, you didn’t mind how clingy she could get— when she wanted to, at least.

[the-winter-spider]

I Cant Lose You | One Shot

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: Angst, happy ending

A/N: So i decided not to post the next part to invisible buuut i found this in my docs so ENJOY! Next part to invisible will be tomorroooooow 🫶🏻

------

The mission had been tense from the start, the kind where every breath feels weighted, every sound sharper and more hostile. You were deep in the enemy’s territory, with Bucky and Steve moving in coordinated silence beside you. The plan was simple, clean: get in, retrieve the intel, and get out without raising an alarm. But simplicity has a way of unraveling in the field.

It happened as you were crossing a narrow bridge suspended over a steep drop in the facility. Bucky was a few steps ahead, his steps purposeful and focused, eyes scanning for movement in the dimly lit corridors. You were behind him, keeping an eye on your surroundings, and that’s when you saw it—the faint red dot creeping along Bucky’s shoulder, inching its way toward his head.

In a split-second, adrenaline took over. You didn’t have time to shout or warn him; instinct propelled you forward, reaching out to shove him out of the path of the sniper’s aim. Your hands collided with Bucky’s shoulder, and he stumbled to the side, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the laser at the last moment.

The bullet whizzed past, so close that you felt the heat of it graze the top of your head, ruffling your hair and leaving your skin tingling. Everything blurred into chaos after that.

“Sniper!” Steve’s voice rang out, his shield already up, glancing off another shot that was fired from a different direction. Bucky, having steadied himself, immediately spun back toward you, his face stricken with shock and anger.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice raw with a mixture of fear, panic and fury. But there was no time for a response.

You, Steve, and Bucky sprang into action, Steve moving to cover you both as more gunfire erupted. Bucky’s eyes kept darting back to you, though, his brows knitted in frustration and worry, even as he returned fire at the enemy agents now pouring in.

After a series of quick movements—ducking, dodging, and retaliating against your attackers—you finally managed to escape the sniper’s line of sight, though the firefight was far from over. Bucky was on edge, barely speaking, his glances sharp and laced with anger, even as he fought to keep you both alive.

The three of you pressed forward, securing the intel and making your way back toward the extraction point with the enemies hot on your heels. When you finally boarded the jet and the door sealed shut behind you, the adrenaline drained, leaving silence and the weight of what had just happened between you and Bucky.

As soon as you sat down, Bucky whirled around to face you, his eyes dark with a storm of emotions he’d kept at bay during the fight.

“What the hell was that?” he snapped. “You could’ve been killed! Do you even understand that?”

His voice was loud, filled with a mix of anger and hurt, and all you could do was stare back, breathless, still reeling from everything that had happened. You wanted to tell him you’d do it again in a heartbeat, that protecting him was worth any risk to yourself. But your words fell silent, swallowed by the guilt and fear lingering between you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but he cut you off. “Do you know how reckless that was? Running headfirst into a line of fire? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

You flinched, both from his tone and from the truth in his words, but all you could think about was the image of him out there, narrowly avoiding enemy fire, and the fact that you would have done anything to make sure he was safe—even if it meant putting yourself in danger. The silence that followed throughout the jet, the rest of the way home was antagonizing. Bucky steered clear of you the entire time, keeping myself stationed at the front of the jet while you were at the back. Steve made is way over to you, handing you a water before double checking you werent injured and the top of tour head really was okay, he sighed "You got lucky" before he stepped away taking a seat by Bucky. 

Your mind was blank the rest of the flight till you landed and he got up, surely the 3 hour flight of pure silence was enough for him to have calmed down, right? “Bucky, I—”

“No!" He shot back instantly whipping around "You don’t get to justify it, We’re a team, and you don’t get to put yourself at risk like that. Not for me, not for anyone!” He screamed

“Enough,” Steve interjected, his tone sharp but even. He glanced between the two of you, then fixed his gaze on Bucky. “You need to cool off.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, fists clenching as he looked away, clearly fighting to hold back words he’d regret. Without another word, he stormed off the jet, the sound of his boots heavy against the metal floor.

You sat back, the sting of his words lingering. Steve watched Bucky disappear down the ramp, then sighed, glancing back at you. “Give him some time. He’s… he’s not wrong, though. What you did was reckless, it was stupid…Bucky could have taken that bullet, you couldn't have. Were going to have to talk about it in the morning”

The knot in your stomach tightened, a mixture of anger and guilt settling there. “Are you telling me this as a friend or as my captain?” you asked, looking at Steve with a heavy heart.

His shoulders fell slightly, and he let out a long sigh. “As both.”

You nodded, the weight of his words hitting you hard. Steve gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he exited, leaving you alone in the silence of the jet.

The reality of what happened started to replay in your mind, each moment sharper than the last. The risks you took, the decisions you made—they all came rushing back with a clarity that made your heart pound faster.

You weren’t reckless, you told yourself. You’d do it all over again if it meant protecting Bucky. His life, his safety… it felt like they mattered more than your own. And yet, you couldn’t shake the memory of the anger in his eyes, the frustration in his voice.

The thoughts spiralled, it had to be you, it could never be him. You couldn't possibly live your life without him, he could hate you all he wanted but as long as he was still breathing you would do it again Oh god what if he hated you? What if he requested for you to no longer be on missions with you? What if….your chest tightened as the weight of everything sank in. Your breathing hitched as the fear you’d pushed aside for the mission came crashing down on you all at once. It was too much, too fast. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t escape the feeling that you’d done something irreparably wrong.

Your hands began to tremble, and the walls of the jet seemed to close in around you. Panic clawed its way up your throat, your heart hammering as you struggled to ground yourself, to calm down, but the storm in your mind only grew louder.

It was as if all the emotions you’d held back—fear, guilt, anger—were suffocating you. The jet felt smaller and smaller, and you pressed a hand to your chest, desperate to find some relief, some way to breathe again.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there, caught in the throes of panic, your mind racing in an endless loop of fear and self-doubt. But the thought that kept resurfacing, the one that hurt the most, was that maybe Bucky was right.

Maybe you had been reckless. And maybe, just maybe, you deserved the anger he’d shown.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out the quiet hum of the jet. The silence around you felt thick, pressing down, wrapping around you like a weight you couldn’t shake. You stood up, needing movement, air, something to break through the crushing feeling in your chest.

As soon as you were on your feet, your legs felt unsteady, but you started pacing, hoping the movement would help you breathe. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart pounding faster with every loop around the narrow space. Your breaths came quicker, shorter, until you could barely catch them at all.

A cold sweat broke out across your skin as the room seemed to close in, the walls shifting, blurring at the edges. You tried to take a deep breath, but it was like swallowing glass. Your chest tightened, clenching inwards with each failed attempt to fill your lungs. Panic clawed up your throat, relentless and raw, choking you with every passing second.

Your hands began to shake, fingers tingling with numbness. You pressed them to your sides, hoping the pressure would help, but it only made the sensation sharper, like a warning that something inside was breaking.

You leaned against the wall, your forehead pressed to the cool metal as you fought to ground yourself. But every thought spun out of control, everything a mess in your mind. Bucky’s anger, Steve’s disappointment, the mission replaying in fragments—each one tearing through you, louder and more chaotic.

A small sound escaped your lips, half a gasp, half a whimper, and you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle it, but it only made you feel more trapped. You couldn’t stop the spiral, the way every breath was too shallow, too desperate, your vision tunnelling as the edges went dark.

Your legs gave out, and you slumped down to the floor, your back against the cold wall. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rocking slightly, trying to find something steady to hold on to. The air in your lungs felt thin, useless, and every inhale felt like it barely reached your throat.

You were unravelling, losing control, and you couldn’t stop it. The realisation made the panic surge all over again, until you could barely see, barely hear, barely feel anything but the racing of your own heart and the suffocating silence surrounding you.

Each passing second seemed to stretch out, leaving you alone with your spiralling thoughts and the overwhelming weight pressing down on your chest. You’d never felt so trapped in your own body, fighting for breath, for calm, for anything that felt real.

-------

Bucky paced furiously across his room, the soles of his boots nearly grinding into the floor as he replayed the mission in his mind. He was still in his tactical gear, smeared with dust and the faint marks of their close call. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he thought of you—sweet, kind, beautiful you—throwing yourself in harm’s way to shield him, risking everything in an instant. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would you do that? Why would you ever take that risk for him?

A knock at the door broke him from his spiraling thoughts. It was Steve, fresh out of the shower, no longer in his gear, looking calm and collected—everything Bucky wasn’t. Steve’s eyes flicked to Bucky’s uniform. “You’re still in your gear?”

Bucky shrugged, jaw tightening. He wasn’t ready to let it go, still too on edge, too frustrated. Steve watched him with a steady gaze. “You didn’t have to yell at her.”

Bucky turned, exasperation clear in his expression. “You were there, Steve. You saw what she did. She pushed me out of the goddamn way when that sniper had his sight on me!”

Steve sighed, leaning against the doorway. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor pacing like that. And you know, you would’ve done the same for her.”

“Yes, so?” Bucky snapped, his voice sharp and defensive.

“Come on, pal,” Steve said, his voice softening as he looked at Bucky knowingly. “You would’ve done the same for her.” His eyes lingered on Bucky, an unspoken understanding passing between them, the implication of his words sinking in.

Bucky’s eyes glistened “Stevie it barely missed her head” Bucky took in a shaky breath “She was almost gone, I almost lost her, that bullet would have hit me in the shoulder i could have taken it, but one hair lower it would have….”

Steve uncrossed his arms, sighing he reached out squeezing Bucky’s shoulder “I know”

Bucky faltered, his chest tightening, his anger softening for a moment as both hope and doubt flickered across his mind. His voice was barely a whisper. “Where is she?”

Steve’s face softened further. “Probably in her room. She was the last one off the jet.” Steve turned his head up slightly to speak to the A.I. “Friday? Where’s Y/N?”

The AI’s calm voice filled the room. “Agent Y/N is still aboard the jet.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a confused look. It had been over an hour since they’d returned. Without a word, they both headed toward the hangar, quickening their pace as unease filled the air.

“She didn’t get hurt, did she?” Bucky asked, worry clear in his voice.

“No,” Steve assured him, “I checked her over myself.” He paused, noticing Bucky’s skeptical look. “Thoroughly.”

They picked up the pace, concern edging into panic as they approached the jet. When they entered, they found you there, huddled in the corner of the seating area, arms wrapped around yourself, breathing fast and shallow, eyes unfocused and filled with panic. Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight.

“Doll?,” he called softly, rushing to your side, dropping down to his knees in front of you. His hands found their way to your face, cupping it gently, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Your eyes met his, wide and tearful, and a soft, choked gasp escaped your lips as you gripped onto his shirt, holding on like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Steve’s voice broke through the silence. “Friday, what’s going on?”

Friday’s response was calm, but the words made Bucky’s stomach drop. “It appears Agent Y/N is experiencing a panic attack.”

Bucky’s face softened with worry, his hands steady as he stroked your cheeks, trying to draw you back to him. “It’s okay. I’m here. Breathe with me, alright?” His voice was soft, a gentle anchor in the chaos of your mind.

He inhaled deeply, exaggerating each breath, trying to guide you with him. His fingers ran through your hair, his touch steady, comforting. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re here with me. Just breathe.”

Your fingers curled tighter into his shirt as you tried to match his breaths, each one a struggle, but his presence steadied you, grounding you little by little. He held you close, whispering soft reassurances, repeating, “I got you…..you’re safe….I’m right here.”

Slowly, the panic began to ebb, your breaths evening out, the warmth of his voice and touch anchoring you in the present.

When you finally manage to catch your breath, it’s still jagged, still shaky, but enough to force words out.

“I can’t lose you,” you say, voice barely a whisper, each word choked and strained. “I couldn’t lose you. I can’t live without you.” Your hand clenches tighter in Bucky’s shirt as you stammer, “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry.”

Steve glances between you two, understanding dawning on his face. With a quiet nod, he steps back, offering you both a moment of privacy. “I’m gonna get you some water,” he murmurs, but you barely register his voice. All your focus is on Bucky, who’s still kneeling in front of you, his gaze locked on yours.

“You’ll never lose me,” he says softly, his hands holding your face with a gentleness that tugs at your heart. His voice is steady, but there’s an underlying tremor, his eyes dark with something that goes deeper than fear, deeper than anger.

“I almost did, I could have” you murmur, and his face shifts, guilt flashing across his features.

Bucky’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. “I can’t lose you either, i could have lost you, I -I, You… you can’t be doing that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His voice cracks, his own vulnerability laid bare. “I know that’s not saying a lot, but my life… it’s been hell. And you—you’re everything to me.”

Your heart pounds as his words sink in, the warmth of his hands on your face grounding you, drawing you closer. You reach for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket, pulling him in until there’s barely any space between you.

And then, as if pulled by an unbreakable force, his lips find yours, a soft, tender kiss that feels like the culmination of everything unsaid between you. His hands slide from your cheeks to cradle you closer, his touch delicate, reverent, as if you’re something precious—something he’s finally allowed to hold.

When you part, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. He looks at you with a softness that makes you ache, his voice barely above a whisper as he says, “I love you.”

In that moment, nothing else exists. Just you and him, finally admitting the truth you’ve both known all along.

[ki-yomii]

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.4k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; fwb, angst w/ a happy ending, teasing, finger fucking, squirting, praise kink, frottage, dirty talk, pet names, commitment issues, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, dom!jk, idiots in love, misunderstandings ➥ summary | after being stood up one too many times, you realize you're in love with jungkook. and that just won't do. ➥ notes | istg i've re-written this more times than i care to count 💀 enjoy!

🖤 masterlist | inbox | AO3 🖤

cnt make it 2nite

The text is blunt - biting. No explanation offered, and certainly no false platitudes found in the lifeless string of black letters. Rather simple and straight to the point.

As you should have expected from Jungkook. He wasn’t known for his verbosity, and even less so for his love of texting.

But as you chew the fat of your cheek, reading it over and over again in an attempt to glean some hidden meaning that isn’t there, you admit to yourself - at least privately - there’s no more avoiding the truth.

One that’s been hovering over your shoulder for weeks like a shroud; an unwelcome guest you can’t ignore anymore: Jungkook’s been avoiding you.

It shouldn’t be surprising.

Moreover, it shouldn’t hurt.

There shouldn’t be an ache in your chest every time you see his contact or the plummet of your stomach when that inevitable excuse comes through.

In the end, he owes you nothing. The arrangement between you is casual, just a little fun between good friends.

It still fucking sucks though, you think, sucking your teeth.

Night thoroughly ruined before it’s begun, it’s only a matter of deciding how to respond now. In the past you’ve used a plethora of options, but you’re stumped. Unsure how to correlate the level of hurt to the nature of your not-relationship.

Should you be petty, passive-aggressive, indifferent - or worst of all: honest?

Hah, no way. I’d rather die.

Beside you, the bartender politely averts his gaze and busies himself with polishing a stack of pint glasses. It’s a slow night, and that’s saying something as this bar’s a little hole in the wall.

It’s never overly busy, which is one of the reason’s it’s a favorite meeting spot of yours. The floors might be sticky, but the music’s decent, the strobe lights they kick on after 10 PM aren’t offensive enough to induce a migraine, and the drinks are cheap with a heavy pour.

Watching him work is impressive - and almost distracting enough for you to ignore the needle sharp ache taking root beneath your ribs, the churn of your stomach.

Humiliation burns hot, creeps up your neck to settle into the apples of your cheeks as you’re stood up.

Again.

It isn’t the first time - it won’t be the last.

But it cuts deeper than all the rest combined, harder to shake off. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. The growing distance between you throbs like an open wound, as if Jungkook himself plunged a hand into your chest.

Scooped out any tender, soft thing he could find and left you hollowed out. Drained.

Not taking his flakiness personally used to be so easy. And now… well.

Goddamnit. A palm scrubs over your decolletage roughly to soothe the throb of your heart. What the hell did you expect to happen, getting involved with Jeon Jungkook, huh?

Everything from his stupidly pretty eyes to the dangerous curl of his mouth, the thick soles of his boots to the lapels of his leather jacket scream walking red flag.

Never mind the fact his proclivities are an open secret among the group. He’s never tried to hide his distaste for commitment. Finds it too monotonous. Predictable.

An eternally free soul much preferring to flit from one experience to the next, never shackled down for long. The Icarus of myth made flesh.

He runs through women like he runs through shoes, and you witnessed enough of the ensuing heartbreak and tears to be wary.

But knowing and feeling something are two very different things.

The dichotomy throws you off-kilter and finds you abandoned in a bar, once again, to choke on a regret so bitter you swear it’ll burn a hole through your throat.

What’s going on with me, you think, this is nothing new. He does this all the time.

You used to get on so well.

Any initial misgivings faded away in the face of Jungkook’s blinding attention, his unfaltering kindness lurking just beneath that surface of grit and gravel.

Even after you fuck, he never acts any differently, as casual between the sheets as he is lounging on your couch.

It's been great, it's been enough - until now.

Just the thought of going back to your empty apartment, alone, only to wake up and fall back into Jungkook’s orbit tomorrow when he swings by with a half-assed apology on his lips, and your favorite drink in hand is enough to make your skin crawl.

Stomach twisting itself into knots, everything in you rebels against the sudden cold realization: nothing will change - least of all Jungkook.

He’ll continue to take-take-take.

You'll continue to give-give-give.

On and on you'll go; a distant star orbiting a black hole, losing little bits of itself until there's nothing left.

Then he’ll leave your life as quickly as he entered it, a blurry after-image there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Fuck, I - I can’t do this anymore, you think, a shiver rattling down your spine, Because I…

An errant thought gains teeth, sinks them deep. Refuses to budge as an awful truth - one buried so deep you forgot it was there, ever lurking in the shadows - rises to the forefront of your mind.

And then --

Oh.

It’s because I love him - because I’m in love with him.

Suddenly it hurts to breathe, your lungs burning as you drown on the air itself. The steel band cinching around your ribs threatens to crack you open.

Your heart lurches in your chest, despair following swiftly to settle over your shoulders. Moreover, there is no one to blame except yourself.

Even if you want it to, it will never work out because loving Jungkook is to love the ghost of a long-forgotten memory.

And there are too many hurts to soothe, too many disappointments to name.

I can’t believe I actually -- shit. You swipe a shaky hand over your forehead. When you swallow, a sour taste clings to the back of your tongue. Should’ve known better.

You glance at your phone, the cursor blinking back at you mockingly. Should’ve done a lot of things, I guess.

Now, you're in too deep.

Waiting without ever realizing you began to do so in the first place; a life on pause, surviving off scraps of half-measures and maybe's, what-ifs, and if only's.

Now, it's clear the only way out is through.

The time to let go is here.

You need to muster up some semblance of self, and work to untangle the threads of connection binding you together. You need space to rediscover the pieces of your heart you left with him.

How to live without the taste of his kiss, the clench of his muscles, the thrust of his cock.

A new life sans Jungkook which begins with a simple reply in place of everything you really want to say: ok.

Then you wave the bartender over.

He does you a kindness once more, pretending not to notice the tears brimming along your lower lash line. “You ready to order?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah - sorry, I was…”

His mouth twitches. You waver.

Then the screen of your phone lights up with a notification.

Refusing to look lest you cave, emotions too fresh -  scraped raw and tender, you switch on DND and turn it face down where it will remain until you go home.

You're far too fragile (and sober) to think about reading Jungkook’s reply, let alone engage with him in any meaningful way.

“I’ll take a double vodka cranberry.”

Maybe if you get drunk enough, you'll forget about the home he carved in your bones.

Bottoms up, bitch.

w8 nvm guys cnt make it

y/n?

i cn b ovr in 10

???

gn ttyt

hey, sorry. called it early.

wyd?

nothing much. you?

nm running some mtchs

cool, cool. you able to swing by today?

yeh b there in 30 :)

In hindsight, trying to have this conversation with Jungkook face to face isn’t the brightest idea. But if anything, last night showed you every choice you’ve made lately is a disaster waiting to happen.

Your life’s already a mess - and you’re hopelessly in love with a man that’ll never love you back - so what’s another mistake added to a long string of misfortune.

So what if your hands tremble and your stomach churns as you unlock the door to let him in.

So what if he leans in for a kiss and you duck to the side, his lips brushing the slope of your cheek.

So what if he pauses and gives you a long, searching look before toeing off his shoes and offering you the drink he picked up on the way.

It can’t get any worse, right?

Only the hungry, molten mixture of rage and rebellion fueling you thus far fizzles away the minute you see him head towards your bedroom with a wink.

Anguish and despair follows in its wake, nipping at your heels.

This is all you’ll ever be to him, you remind yourself as you step into the room. A fun time. Nothing serious. You have to break it off.

You shoot him a tight smile. “Did you have a good night?”

Jungkook shrugs, glancing around at the decorations littering your dresser. “Nah, not really.” His gaze slides to you, traveling from your head to your bare toes in a slow once over. “I definitely would’ve had a better time with you.”

Swallowing roughly, you rub your hands over your arms and suddenly feel far too naked - exposed in your light summer dress. “Hah,” you intone without humor, awkward and stilted. “Probably not. I was out by 11:30.”

“Mm, that’s not like you.” Jungkook hums, moving forward until he’s right in front of you. His hands reach for you, grabbing your wrists gently. His thumb strokes over your pulse point. “You’re acting weird. Is there something you want to talk about, baby?”

Of course he’d notice.

It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing. Jungkook always pays attention to the details, makes leaps of logic based on little more than quiet observations.

You stitch together a chuckle. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins, his lip ring dimpling the swell of his bottom lip. Your chests brush with every inhale, sharing space and breath. 

“Nothing,” he agrees.

It’s torture. It’s too intimate.

The glow of your overhead lamp highlights the sweep of his cheekbones, the curl of his lashes as he blinks slow and happy. The barely there impression of his body is too much.

You shrink back, clearing your throat.

“No, don’t do that. Where are you going?”

His eyes, shimmering with warmth, plead with you to stay, his shoulders curving towards you. A large palm settles over your shoulder, sparks igniting wherever he touches.

“Stop hiding. You can talk to me about anything. Come on, I want to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Steeling your resolve, you inhale and exhale with a shudder. His expression is open, soft. You know it won’t last, and take a few seconds to commit how he looks in this moment to memory.

For all you know, this will be one of the last times you’ll be this close to him again. At least until you can beat your feelings into submission.

And then you can’t put it off anymore, unable to take the ginger strokes of his fingers. The calming caresses as if he thinks you’re something precious. Quick like ripping off a band-aid, otherwise the words will never get past the bend of your throat.

“I want to stop.”

You catch the way his eyes darken, sharpen in the dim overhead light. He knows exactly what you’re talking about, but his half-smile never falters.

Of course, he refuses to make this easy on you. To acknowledge this is happening. He’s always been a greedy man; wants what he can’t have, and destroys what he does.

“Stop what?” Jungkook says. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, baby.”

“Kook,” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “You know what I mean. I just - I can’t do,” your voice cracks, a hand motioning to the space between you, “this anymore.”

A vein throbs on the side of his neck, his jaw working in response. Muscles tense and release with every grit of his teeth. He asks, “You gonna tell me why, huh? Or are you just going to ditch me and act like it didn’t mean something?”

“Kook…”

There’s a certain grief that can’t be spoken, gnarled roots burrowing deep in your chest. A sense of loss so keenly felt it almost steals your breath.

You wish this wasn’t happening, you wish you could take it all back but this pantomime of a relationship isn’t fair to you. Not anymore. And you knew this conversation wouldn’t be fun, but Jungkook’s staunch denial still manages to surprise you.

“It didn’t mean anything though,” you say.

At least, not to you, you think. To me, it meant the world.

-- And that’s the problem.

You need to stop whatever this is between you from building. He’s already shown he doesn’t share your desire for more in a multitude of ways. He’s been avoiding you for a reason, whether he was consciously aware of your feelings or not.

Undoubtedly, you trust him with your life but not your heart.

As sweet as he is, has been, he won’t treat it gently. Not through any intentional ill-will but because he can’t contain his own commitment issues let alone make room for yours.

It’s better this way.

Let what you have - had - stay a memory unmarred by the ugliness of your hurt feelings and bitter disappointments.

Jungkook’s shoulders draw up towards his ears, his gaze glacial as his hands slide away from you. “Is there a reason you’re done with me now?”

Shadows lurk in the depths of his eyes, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. Everything about him looks weighted down.

“Well, is there? I mean, shit, I think I’ve earned an answer after all the time we spent together.”

Your heart breaks for him, everything in you calling out to close the gap and offer him comfort. But you can’t. You don’t trust yourself to touch him without wanting more than your heart can bear.

“I’m not done with you,” you say. “I would never do that to you, Kook. I just - I can’t be with you like that anymore, that’s all. I need space but I’ll still be around, I promise.”

The glare he shoots your way freezes the blood in your veins. “Cut the bullshit,” he snarls. “Tell.me.why.”

You avert your gaze, arms wrapping around your chest. “Why does that - I -”

You only had one rule at the very beginning of this mess: if there’s someone you’re serious about, you stop fucking. It comes as a handy lie - a believable excuse that’ll stop any further questioning.

You don’t think you have the fortitude if Jungkook keeps pressing you, cracking under the weight of your grief and the anger in his eyes like fine china.

“I think I - I think I want to start looking for a boyfriend again.”

An expression flashes across his face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. But there’s no doubt he recognizes it for the goodbye it’s supposed to be.

This is it, you think.

You can put what you had to rest and move on, a memory on a shelf you’ll dust off years down the line when the hurt isn’t so prevalent. And hopefully, with time, you can relearn how to be friends.

Though the strange gleam to his eyes sends a prickle of apprehension down your spine, and then you find yourself being manhandled as he snaps forward like a snake coiled to strike.

Air flees your lungs as Jungkook shoves you with a firm palm, your feet stumbling over themselves as you trip backwards into your bed frame.

Wood knocks into the backs of your knees, and you fold like a stack of cards. The sheets puff out around you, the scent of your laundry detergent tickling your nose.

You blink at the textured ceiling, mouth agape as you try to process what happened.

The empty space above you doesn’t stay vacant, Jungkook quickly crowding you into the mattress with his weight as he settles over top of your body.

He molds himself to your front, his firm hips slotting themselves between your thighs. Broad palms, warm and calloused, skim your sides and ruck up the skirt of your dress as he reaches under you to grip the soft globes of your ass.

He yanks you into him, your pelvises slotting together. You whine before you can stop yourself, eyes fluttering shut at the heat of his body.

Teeth scrape along the delicate skin of your neck, the sharp pricks of pleasure-pain coaxing a shiver down your spine.

Lips brush the shell of your ear, his minty breath puffing against the side of your face as he speaks, low and husky, “So that’s it, huh?”

“What--!”

Teeth nip your earlobe, and you wince.

“My girl thinks she’s going to leave me for someone else?” Jungkook snorts. “Like I’d ever let that fucking happen.”

“I’m not your girl.”

You squirm, a bolt of awareness slicing through you as your body responds to his proximity, the weight of him over you electrifying. Liquid desire blooms behind your navel, uncomfortable and unwelcome.

“I never was.”

Blunt nails dig into the fat of your ass, and a cruel mouth latches onto the corner of your jaw. “Ah, is that right?” Jungkook asks, the rumble of his voice vibrating through your torso, your nipples tightening as they drag over the plains of his chest. “You’re not my girl?”

You swallow, and ignore the throb of your clit as the line of his cock ruts into you. “I’m not your girl, Jungkook.”

“If you’re not my girl,” he grinds into the cradle of your hips, teasing - taunting, “then why the fuck are you so wet?”

Keening, you twitch, involuntarily rocking up into the firm pressure of his shaft. The angle’s just right, spreading your folds beneath the thin cotton of your panties and giving your neglected clit the perfect stimulation.

Exposing your soaked core to the chill of your room as your body warms with mortification.

Jungkook hums in approval, giving the side of your neck a sloppy kiss followed by a stinging nip. “You think some nobody can fuck you better than me?”

“That’s not what I - ffuck!”

Heat pools low in your belly, blood pumping fast. You’re steadily losing control, the aborted rolls of your hips increasing in frequency.

“Answer me.”

A sharp burst of copper floods your mouth, your skin splitting open with how hard you’re chewing on it. Blood clings to the swell of your bottom lip, a ruby red bead you lick away with a nervous tongue.

Sweat dappled your brow, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the molten desire curdling your stomach.

The softness of your body knows the hardness of his, every curve has a matching divot. The heady, pleasant scent of his cologne floods your lungs with every stuttered inhale.

Your senses are overwhelmed as he surrounds you.

“Shit, Kook, please,” you plead, hands tangling in the sheets by your head.

You’re not sure what you’re asking for but at the same time, you’re not sure how you ended up here. Again.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

This was supposed to be an amenable end to a dubious affair. It’s anything but.

“I want you to tell me who your cunt belongs to.”

Fingers inch down to tease along the soft flesh of your inner thighs, and play with the elastic of your panties.

You tremble, gooseflesh dimpling the exposed skin of your arms as knuckles brush over the length of your soaked pussy.

Your clit pulses, the pressure enough to tease.

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook coaxes, working his way beneath the fabric clinging to your core, “tell me you’re my girl.”

His cock nestles into the crook of your hip, hot and heavy through his jeans as a darkened patch blooms across the denim crotch. The sticky wetness of his pre-cum smearing into your skin as arousal swells, crashing over you.

Leaving you a whimpering, trembling mess in the cage of his arms.

“You just have to say it - say you’re my girl and I’ll be so, so good to you.” His breath warms the shell of your ear. “All you have to do is say it, and I’ll make you cum so hard you see stars.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to cobble together a response, sliding a thick finger through your sticky folds and into your needy pussy just as your lips part.

All words leave you, your mind wiped clean as a low, broken cry echoes out into the room. Swallowed up by the sounds of city life outside your apartment as he works to stretch you open.

You clamp down at the sudden fullness, walls tight and fluttering around his finger like they would be around his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You always feel so soft and wet.”

Whining in agreement, you give up any pretense of resistance, letting primal desire chase away the despair, the guilt that threatens to choke you. Wiping your mind clean of any thoughts until the only thing that remains is the thrust of his fingers and the ache in your cunt.

Your hands slip, scrambling for purchase with sweaty palms. “J-Jungkook!”

Your knees tremble where they dig into his sides, air rushing from you in heavy pants as the space between your bodies heats up. You know you won’t last long, already hanging on the edge.

Never in a million years did you expect to be so turned on by Jungkook’s rough behavior. He usually treats you like something delicate.

Though he holds no such compunction now, raw in his desperate desire to make you cum.

Jungkook peppers kisses onto whatever skin he can reach, spreading your thighs wider with his torso. His knuckles strain against the fabric of your panties, stretching out the cotton and ruining them forevermore as he slips another finger into you.

Then his dark head bows, catching your gaze, and he says, “Hold on.”

Barely seconds after you anchor yourself to his shoulders, he starts finger fucking you to within an inch of your life. His forearm ripples with strength, the movements of his fingers pressing and rubbing against all the right spots. Curling up to massage at your g-spot until you’re shaking beneath him with hitched breaths.

“Shit, shit,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as your toes flex against his side, “Kook, baby, please don’t stop.”

He huffs a laugh, dark and amused. “Wouldn’t ever do that to you, baby.”

“S’good - I - I’m close.”

You sob, tears brimming along your lash line. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your pussy ring in your ears, as embarrassing as it is arousing. He’s making you gush, slick wetting your inner thighs, dribbling down your ass to stain the sheets.

“So close, gonna - hnnng - gonna cum.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, baby. Give me that squirt.”

You shake your head. “I can’t - I can’t!”

If you could, you’d suspend time so this moment never ends. The finality of your arrangement hovering just on the other side of pleasure.

In the back of your mind, you know Jungkook’s only behaving this way because he’s jealous. Angry. He doesn’t mean it, and this is a mistake.

It’ll only hurt you in the long run but you’ll take what you can get.

After all, this is the last time you’ll be together like this.

“No,” he shushes, dropping a kiss to your sweaty brow, “No, don’t lie. I know you can. I’ll make you.”

There’s no escape.

He refuses to let you escape, using his weight to keep you pinned as he spreads his fingers open inside you, twisting and fucking so deep you feel a twinge behind your navel.

And then you’re right there, crashing over the edge as the bubble of pleasure bursts, crackling through your limbs.

You cum harder than you ever have before. Nails sinking into his shoulders with a hiss as a wounded, broken wail scrapes its way out of your throat.

Your pussy throbs, gummy walls sucking him deeper as a rush of cum gushes from you in spurts. Your ears ring with white noise, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact your hands have gone numb.

For several long moments, you float with a head full of cotton, only rejoining the atmosphere when warmth dribbles down your ass in sticky rivulets of squirt.

Jungkook’s arm is curled around your waist, holding you close as his nose nuzzles into the side of your head. Tender lips dust kisses over your crown. His cock is still a heavy weight digging into your hip but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to relieve himself.

“Jungkook,” you sigh, a wave of fatigue crashing over you. Your eyes sting when you close them, a lump building in your throat. You ache all over pleasantly, satisfaction settling deep into your bones. In spite of that, a rift opens in your heart. “Jungkook, I--”

He kisses your shoulder, shushing you. “Don’t ruin it. Just let me hold you for a little while longer… please.”

The tears are almost impossible to stop. “It’s already hard enough, don’t make me -- I can’t just…”

Jungkook squeezes you gently. “I love you,” he says, “but I swear to god you can be so stupid sometimes.”

You jolt, eyes swinging up to meet his, wide and disbelieving. “What did you just  - I - I  don’t. ..Jungkook?”

“How could I not feel the same?” he asks, tone resigned and wary. “Honestly scared the shit out of me when I realized because, well, y’know I don’t have the best track record.” He averts his gaze, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I almost fucked everything up too, but Namjoonie-hyung helped me get my head on straight.”

Something unfurls in your chest, and you feel as light as air. Ridiculously buoyant with happiness. Hope.

Oh, how stupid.

“We’re kind of idiots, aren’t we?” you ask, sniffling as you shoot him a watery smile. “Like… the biggest.”

Jungkook hums in agreement, a boyish gleam to his eyes. “I mean, you said it. Not me.”

[foreingersgod]

Pls pls something about emily engstler where the reader ( they can be friends at the beginning) keeps staring at her tattoos especially on her hands and emily catches her

Tattoos . EE

pairing: emily engstler x reader

A/N: i’m thinking let’s stay home pt 2 next??

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“what’re you staring for?” a familiar voice sounded from across the couch. it was so sultry, so smooth. you couldn’t help that your body was drawn to it instantly.

it was a normal day, you and your girlfriend tucked away in the comfort of your home for the weekend. she had had a rough week of intense practice and you had a draining week of work, so the both of you decided to take some time to relax. but it was a dangerous game for you, emily within your reach at all times. she was practically irresistible and you found yourself gawking at her nearly every chance you got.

she was quite literally the hottest person on the planet in your eyes. her hair, her body, her lips, her eyes…everything about her made you crazy. but your favorite thing about her, that made you want to pounce on her at any given moment, are her tattoos. you really couldn’t explain it, why you were so drawn to them. the intricate designs that littered her skin just had some sort of grasp on you, had you drooling like a teen girl over her high school crush. you would squeeze your thighs together in desperation as you’d watch her hand run down her face, ink ridden fingers mindlessly tracing the outline of her lips. god the things it did to you. how her muscles would flex when you’d watch her work out, your eyes glued to the way the tattoos moved with them. everything she did, you’d be admiring the beautiful works of art.

emily wasn’t quite aware of your fixation with her tattoos. rather she knew you liked them, but clueless to the near obsession you had. she never caught onto the stares or the amount of times you’d trace them with your fingernails when you’d lay in bed at the end of the night. she had always figured you’d liked them just like any normal person would. so you would continue on with your infatuation, let yourself indulge every now and then without her noticing.

until now.

“hm?” you blinked rapidly, shaking yourself out of a daydream.

your legs were draped over hers as you laid horizontally across the couch, your head rested against the cushioned arms of the sofa. emily was running her hands up and down your shins aimlessly, making little imaginary drawing here and there. she was scrolling on her phone to pass the time and you were sat there, just looking. for the past, probably 10 minutes, you sat there watching her. watched how her tatted fingers glided smoothly along your skin. watched how they moved effortlessly. it was hypnotizing to watch, getting lost in the print on her fingers. you couldn’t lie, you were getting hot and bothered just thinking about those fingers.

when you had emerged from your fantasies, finally looking over at emily, she was already staring back at you. her phone now discarded somewhere next to her and her gaze glued to you. her fingers had stopped tracing and she had one eyebrow quirked at you in curiosity.

“you’ve been staring at me for like 10 minutes” her head tilted to the side, she was so damn cute “everything ok? is something wrong?”

“m’not staring” you pursed your lips. now it was your fingers, fiddling senselessly out of nerves. you were too embarrassed to admit that you’d been caught.

she just chuckled, tongue running along her bottom lip. her hand rose up to scratch at the back of her neck in amusement at your poor excuse of a lie.

“come on, baby” her eyes still shooting daggers into you, eyelids low but still alluring and intrigued “don’t lie t’me”

“i’m not, honest! i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you scoffed playfully, hoping she wouldn’t pry any further. but you knew she would. she always did.

“i’m talking about how the whole time we’ve been sitting here you’ve been eyeing me”

“i have not” you emphasized even more.

“oh really?” she said, and you nodded in return. she leaned in closer to you and you watched as her eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes “then why is it that every time my hand reaches your thigh your breathe catches in your throat?”

if your breathe wasn’t hitching when she was touching you, it certainly was now. she looked so divine, practically hovering over you just to tease you like this. you wanted to be mad at her for making you feel so humiliated, but how could you when she was so tempting.

“talk to me,” her voice lowered to a rasp “you know exactly what i’m talking about”

unable to handle the heat, already feeling the blush creep onto your face, you sighed in defeat. you bit your lip and squeezed yours eyes shut as you tried to think of the right words to say. how does one say your tattoos make me want to tear off your clothes and take you right here, right now without sounding like a freak?

“it’s embarrassing, emily. don’t make me say it”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, baby, s’ok” she was met with a moment of silence as you groaned in frustration “why were you staring?”

“your…” another sigh fell from your lips, you were at a loss for words “your tattoos”

“my tattoos?” she smirked “what about them?”

“they’re just so, i don’t know, attractive?” your body cringed as you said it. you tried to avoid her gaze to ease the shame you felt, but you couldn’t help but catch how her smirk formed into a toothy grin “like…god this is so stupid…like they just look so good on you and you look so fucking good all the time. and i just can’t stop looking at you, em, i’m sorry”

with a new found confidence, you continued “your fingers, just the tattoos on them…oh my god emily you have no idea what you do to me. even when you’re just sitting here i can’t resist you”

“wow” she breathed out, lips curled tauntingly “can’t resist me, huh?”

“shut up”

“no no” another laugh fell from her lips. but this time it was soft and relaxed, not seductive to try and coerce some confession out of you “it’s cute, babe. you shouldn’t be embarrassed”

you just rolled your eyes at her, part of you still irritated that you were put in such a position, but another part of you relieved she didn’t mind.

emily let her hands fall down to you legs again, palms flat against you. you could feel the slight callousness of her skin. they pressed into the plushness of your thighs gently as they agonizingly crept their way towards you. she kept her eyes on you, eyelashes low, lips slightly parted. your mouth fell dry as her hands approached the bottoms of your shorts. her fingers toyed with the hems, then eventually pushing their way past the loose fabric until she was met with the silky skin of your hip just under your shorts. then, with little warning, she let her head lower down to your neck. her breathe was hot against you as she let her lips attach, kissing along your body. you gasped upon feeling the sudden sensation, your hands flying up to the back of her head in an attempt to brace yourself.

“all this over some tattoos?” she whispered into your neck “baby…you’re killing me”

“will you be quiet and just kiss me?” you blurted, unable to handle the built up tension.

“anything for you”

and with that, her lips were on yours in an instant. your bodies melting into each other as she showed you just how much she loved you with those damned tattoos.

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 3 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: mild violence

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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I stay in bed, listening to music until it’s time for dinner. My pendant is no longer glowing, but it’s still warm against my skin, and I can’t shake the sense of unease.

I plan on going to the dining hall just to grab something before heading back to my room, like I’ve done so many times before.

That plan almost immediately flies out the window, though, when I round the corner and almost run into Wednesday, who stands eerily still, as if she was waiting for me.

She’s still in her school uniform, but her usually put-together appearance is slightly disheveled. Her bangs and pigtails are a little out of order, and her uniform is still stained from the rain and mud earlier when I tackled her to the ground.

My hand almost instinctively clutches the pendant of my necklace through my shirt, and I take off my headphones, letting them rest around my neck.

“Uh, hi…”

Wednesday’s sharp eyes rake over me, unreadable. The longer she just stares, the more unnerved I get.

This is our first real interaction, and despite the pendant growing warmer, almost hot against my hand, I can’t say it’s a pleasant one.

“You saved my life,” she says finally, her voice monotone.

I don’t know exactly what she expects me to say to that, so I clear my throat and shrug helplessly.

“Yeah…?”

Her gaze flicks down to my hand, still curled around the necklace, before snapping back up. There’s something in her eyes now. Curiosity. Maybe even a flicker of exasperation.

“Why?”

I almost scoff, caught between disbelief and confused amusement. I let go of the necklace and stand a little straighter.

“…Should I not have?”

Wednesday tilts her head slightly and crosses her arms. “Most people wouldn’t.”

I just raise an eyebrow and deadpan, “Well, I’m not most people.”

I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe a thank you?—but Wednesday seemingly at a loss for words after that isn’t it. Her lips part ever so slightly, like she wants to say something, but then she doesn’t. Her fingers tighten around her upper arms, and I tap into my powers to get a read on what she’s feeling, but just like the first time I saw her, I don’t really sense anything.

So, without further ado, I step past her, still drained from the day and just wanting to get some dinner before going to bed. But then she speaks up again, making me stop in my tracks.

“It’s Wednesday, by the way.”

I turn back around and cock my head questioningly “Huh?”

“My name,” she elaborates, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Wednesday Addams.”

I hold her gaze for a moment, still unable to get a read on her, then just say, “I know,” before finally turning around and making my exit.

I’m tired and, unlike Wednesday it seems,I don’t want to play any games at the moment.

This whole interaction was a little weird and definitely not how I expected our first conversation to go, but then again, I don’t really care that much. It’s obvious that Wednesday is trouble, and I’ve already got that in abundance.

I’ve got to admit, I am a little intrigued by the fact that my powers seem to be acting up around her for some reason. And the fact that she seems to have her emotions on such a tight leash that not even I can get a read on her. But again, she’s trouble. And I’ve got other things to worry about.

Also, the fact that she couldn’t even bring herself to simply thank me for saving her life makes alarm bells go off in my head.

She’s curious, that much is obvious. And she seems intent on always getting what she wants, which is a dangerous combination especially when it comes to me and my powers. If Ajax is already a little too curious for my liking, I bet Wednesday would be a million times worse.

I pop into the dining hall, avoiding Enid’s eyeline, and quickly grab a bowl of spaghetti bolognese before heading back to my room, taking a bit of a detour to avoid potentially running into Wednesday again.

I eat on my bed with my headphones on and place the empty bowl on the nightstand while simultaneously reaching for my book.

As I go to open it though, a faint hum of music manages to reach my ears despite my headphones, so I take them off with a frown, wondering where it’s coming from.

Almost instantly I realize that it’s not loud enough to be breaking through the noise canceling function on its own, and that it’s accompanied by an already familiar heartbeat, which can only mean one thing.

Wednesday.

Instead of trying to tune it out though —I know I wouldn’t be able to even if I tried— I settle into bed and close my eyes, letting my ears pick up more.

She’s playing the cello, I realize after a moment. It’s an unfamiliar piece, but it’s beautiful and eerie at the same time, something I usually wouldn’t listen to, but I’m intrigued by the fact that playing the cello is one of Wednesday’s seemingly many talents aside from fencing.

She keeps playing without missing a beat and before I know it, I actually drift into a light sleep.

I catch some snippets of a conversation between Enid and Wednesday at some point after Wednesday stops playing, but I’m too far gone to know what they’re actually talking about. All I know is that it’s sincere and seemingly compassionate on Wednesday’s end, which is something I wasn’t sure she was capable of.

“Y/N?”

Weems’ voice makes me stop and turn just as I’m about to reach for the door handle of my favorite Jericho bookshop.

“Oh hey,” I smile softly at her as she walks up to me. “What are you doing here?”

She returns my smile and gestures across the town square where I see her parked car in front of Doctor Kinbott’s practice. “Not much. Just making sure Miss Addams gets to and from her therapy appointment without trying to escape.”

I raise an amused eyebrow at that. Not just because I didn’t expect the whole running-away bit on Wednesday’s part—although that does seem like something she would do—but also because I didn’t peg her as someone who goes to therapy.

Weems seems to read my mind because she explains, “Her mother warned me she might try to escape. And she’s not going to therapy of her own volition. It’s been court-ordered after what happened at her last school. I believe you’ve heard the rumors?”

I chuckle in disbelief and shake my head. “Yeah, I heard.”

I know Weems wouldn’t disclose this kind of information to just any student, but we’ve kind of become family ever since my adoptive parents dumped me at Nevermore. I don’t see her as much of a principal anymore. She’s more like an aunt to me, and she knows she can trust me with this kind of information because she knows I wouldn’t blab.

“She really is a handful, isn’t she?” I joke, which makes her smirk ever so slightly as she steps forward to brush a leaf off my shoulder, probably one that snagged on my uniform during my walk through the woods.

“You could say that, yes.” She steps back again before tilting her head and asking, “So, how are you?”

Under normal circumstances, I know she’d just be asking to make polite conversation, but I’m sure she’s gotten word of my behavior since Wednesday arrived. You know, me eating alone in my room every night or that pencil-snap incident in Thornhill’s class.

I meet her eyes, and for a moment I consider telling her all about how Wednesday’s presence has completely unnerved me—what with my pendant glowing and my ears constantly picking up on her heartbeat, even now—but then I think better of it.

If I tell her, she’ll just worry, and it seems like she’s already got enough on her plate. I also haven’t even checked the book in the Nightshades’ library for any information about what’s going on. Maybe there are some answers there. If there are, I don’t have to bother Weems with it. If not, I can always talk to her later.

For now, though, I figure it’s best to keep it to myself, so I say, “I’m okay. A little tired, but I’m fine. Glad it’s Saturday.”

Weems nods along, but there’s a glint in her eyes that tells me she knows I’m lying. She doesn’t press me on it, though. She simply checks her watch and then asks if I want a ride back to school with her and Wednesday later, but I decline.

I don’t know how long I’m going to be in the bookshop, browsing the shelves and getting lost in a book or two, and I don’t particularly want to be in an enclosed space with Wednesday and Weems because there seems to be quite a lot of tension between them.

“Well then, suit yourself,” Weems says with a soft smile. I go to brush it off, but then we both see Doctor Kinbott stepping out onto the street across the town square with a frown on her face.

“Oh no...” Weems mutters under her breath, and I don’t have to ask to know what’s happened.

Wednesday managed to escape somehow.

I know it’s not funny, but it’s definitely impressive that she managed to get away, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of my lips.

I try to hide it, but Weems still catches sight of it and shoots me a dirty look before hurrying off to talk to Kinbott about what happened.

I just turn and head into the bookshop, knowing Wednesday hasn’t gotten very far. Her heartbeat—steady and clear—is still nearby.

I browse through the shelves for a little over twenty minutes with my headphones on before stepping outside again.

It’s a peaceful day today, and I would even consider it to be beautiful, even though the sky is overcast and a soft breeze rustles the leaves of the trees in the town square.

I soak it all in, ignoring some looks from strangers who eye me weirdly because of my uniform, before heading to the Weathervane to get some coffee.

As soon as I step into the quaint café though, I spot Wednesday sitting by the window, and I have half a mind to turn back around and walk away, but that would look weird, so I pretend not to have seen her and take a seat at a table with my back turned to her.

Weems must not have found her yet, otherwise she wouldn’t be sitting here. It doesn’t explain why she’s here in the first place though, but as I pull out my book and glance at Tyler behind the counter—who seemingly can’t keep his eyes off her—I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because of something that went down between them.

What that could have been, I have no idea, but I can hear Tyler’s heart skipping a beat every time he glances at Wednesday, while she seems to be completely unfazed by him.

Iris, a barista a couple of years older than me and who I’ve known ever since I came to Nevermore, takes my order with a friendly smile a moment later before I settle back into my chair and open my new book.

I start reading, but not even a minute later, my pendant warms up again and I don’t even have to look up to know who slides into the seat across from me a second later.

I try to ignore her, but the faint smell of linen that clings to her and the way she clears her throat when I don’t look up makes it impossible. So, I look up and try not to take notice of how the sharpness in her dark eyes makes my chest tighten ever so slightly.

“Yes?” I ask politely, closing my book in my lap.

“You do know that it’s incredibly impolite to walk away in the middle of a conversation, right?” It’s not a question but rather a statement.

Even so, I just frown and ask, “Huh?”

“Yesterday,” she clarifies, exasperated.

Is she serious?

I put my book on the table and cross my arms. “Oh, well, I was under the impression our conversation was over. I’m sorry if you felt... abandoned?”

Wednesday bristles, seemingly offended, and sits up even straighter than she already is. “I don’t need you to apologize.”

“Okay?” I shrug helplessly, not really knowing how to feel about this. “Then what do you want from me?”

“I—” Wednesday pauses, and a very tiny frown pulls at her lips as though she doesn’t actually know herself. And then, before she can respond, the door opens and in walk Lucas Walker and his cronies, dressed in pilgrim attire.

“What are you two Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?” he sneers.

I just sigh and roll my eyes, getting ready to get up and ask Iris to make my coffee to go, because they’re just not worth the trouble. But then Wednesday’s attention shifts onto them and she asks, “Why are you three dressed like religious fanatics?” before I can stop her.

“We’re pilgrims?” one of the cronies replies sarcastically, which makes Wednesday snap back with, “Potato, po-tah-to.”

Her eyes meet mine briefly, and I just shake my head as if to tell her not to get into this. But then Lucas slides an advertising flyer onto the table, promoting his dad’s pilgrim exhibition. “We work at Pilgrim World.”

Wednesday’s face hardens, and she pulls the flyer toward her with an almost disgusted look on her face. “It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide.”

Oh no...

I feel the incredulity and anger in Lucas and his goons before any of them open their mouths, so I’m not at all surprised when, after he blinks in surprise, he snaps, “My dad owns Pilgrim World. Who are you calling stupid?”

Wednesday’s eyebrow quirks ever so slightly, obviously enjoying the tension a little.

I warn her with a mumbled, “Wednesday…” under my breath, but she ignores me and says, “If the buckled shoe fits.”

Again, I sigh, and I know things are about to go down, but then—much to my surprise—Tyler steps in.

“Guys, back off.”

I almost snort because who does he think he is? Wednesday’s knight in shining armor?

If I’ve learned anything about her so far, it’s that she can take care of herself.

“Stay out of this, Galpin,” Lucas shoves his former friend back and, again, much to my surprise, Wednesday gets up and actually agrees with Lucas.

“Yes, stay out of this.”

I get up too, but I step to the side so I’m kind of next to, kind of behind Wednesday, who’s now facing three angry pilgrims.

I’m not exactly scared because I know they couldn’t hurt me even if they tried, but I am a little worried about Wednesday. Yes, I know I just said she can take care of herself, but now that there’s an actual threat, I can feel a little doubt creep into the back of my mind.

My pendant also grows warmer, as if warning me, but I ignore it and keep my eyes on the scene in front of me.

The air is crackling with electricity, and when Lucas steps closer to Wednesday and asks, “So tell me, freak. Have you ever been with a normie?” something inside me bristles.

I know the question wasn’t directed at me, but the word freak makes me clench my jaw because it was what my adoptive parents called me right before dropping me off at Nevermore and never returning.

I keep my mouth shut though because I really don’t want any trouble.

Wednesday seems to though, and she calmly says, “I never found one that could handle me.”

Lucas glares at her, his anger almost palpable, but seemingly still contained.

That is until Wednesday jerks forward, saying, “Boo!” which makes Lucas flinch and one of his goons grab Wednesday’s shoulder, ready to strike.

My eyes widen even though I saw this coming from miles away, but I don’t interfere when Wednesday easily deflects his blow and knees him in the gut.

He grunts and bends over before rage overtakes him and he pulls his arm back to strike again, but Wednesday moves out of the way just in time, so the goon’s fist slams right into Lucas’ face.

Oh lord…

Lucas goes down, clutching his nose while Wednesday deals with her first attacker again, somehow kicking him in the chest.

I watch the whole thing unfold with wide eyes, worried and impressed at the same time. But then, I catch sight of movement to my right, and my hand snaps out seemingly on its own, easily catching the third guy’s fist mid-strike to the side of Wednesday’s face.

So much for staying out of it...

He winces from the impact and looks at me with wide eyes while I just shake my head with a mumbled, “Nu uh.”

And then, before I can do anything else, Wednesday has swept him off his feet, leaving all three of them writhing and groaning on the ground.

Wednesday looks at what she’s done, her bangs askew and her breathing a little heavier than normal, before her eyes flicker to me. There’s an unreadable expression on her face, but my ears catch onto the way her heart skips for a second, probably from the adrenaline, before Tyler steps up to us, breaking the spell.

“So, where’d you learn those kung fu moves?”

Wednesday looks back at the writhing boys on the ground before answering, saying something about how her uncle taught her because he spent some time at some monastery or something.

Just then, Sheriff Galpin walks in and I swallow harshly, knowing he is not going to be happy about what happened.

“Tyler, what the hell is going on in here?” he asks, eyeing the scene with a raised eyebrow.

Tyler stumbles through an explanation of what happened, about how Wednesday was just defending herself, while Galpin’s eyes flicker between all of us.

When he looks at me, I quickly avert my eyes because Weems has told me a hundred times to keep my head down and not cause trouble because it could lead to someone figuring out what I am— and what did I just do? I did the exact opposite.

Galpin doesn’t say anything to me though, and instead turns his attention back to Wednesday.

He goes to say something but then—much to my horror—Weems of all people comes rushing into the café.

She looks absolutely petrified by the scene that greets her and shoots me a questioning look before schooling her features into a polite but apologetic smile. “Apologies, Sheriff,” she says to Galpin. “These two slipped away from me.”

I risk a glance at Wednesday, who looks like a kid who was just caught stealing candy from a candy store, before averting my eyes again. “Come on then, Miss Addams… Y/N… it’s time to go.”

Well, looks like I’ll be forced to accept her ride to school after all.

I grab my book from the table and shoot Iris an awkward smile when she tentatively hands me a to-go cup of coffee before stepping forward to leave the café with Wednesday and Weems. But then Galpin speaks up again, making all of us stop in our tracks.

“Wait a minute, hang on. You’re an Addams?” he asks, directing his suddenly cold eyes onto Wednesday.

Wednesday just reciprocates his stare, and I look between them, confused.

“Don’t tell me Gomez Addams is your father?” he goes on, and when he says the name, I suddenly know why Wednesday’s last name rang a bell.

Gomez Addams was a student at Nevermore back in the day, and there was some rumor going around about him having been arrested during his time here, but nothing ever came of it.

Wednesday only nods at the question, which makes Galpin scoff and pull a sour face. “That man belongs behind bars for murder. I guess the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree.”

If Wednesday is at all surprised by this revelation—or whether or not she already knew about it—she doesn’t let on. Her face is as blank as ever, but something inside me stirs at the insinuation.

It’s not fair of him to say that, no matter what kind of history he seems to have with her father.

Like always, I bite my tongue though and follow Wednesday out of the café when Weems finally ushers us outside, with Galpin warning Wednesday, “I’m going to keep my eyes on you, young lady.”

Wednesday simply smirks at what I would have understood as somewhat of a threat, which just confirms that she is, in fact, more trouble than I originally thought. And I’m now stuck in the middle of it.

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Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

im very curious: in a scenario where ford got to vamp trap stan before stan got pulled into the alley, and therefore didnt know right away that stan was a vampire, how would that go? does ford try and convince stan to leave town to protect him from the mysterious beast or does he bring stan back to another safehouse? does ford get suspicious when the beast also moves on/vanishes? safehouse route feels like it could be a shitshow with more people around to see stan getting 'sick' and realising 'wait that guys not human!'

So I read this, thought for a moment, then burst out laughing about how this enhances both the comedy and horror possibilities.

Ford gets down to Stan, they have a Realization of 'oh shit thats my twin brother' the vampire jumps, and Ford kills them without Stan seeing any of their vampiric traits. Ford starts dragging him away, cursing his inability to keep Stan out of his world, but grateful he saved his brother's life. Zero realization about Stan's mangy hood.

So Stan still thinks Ford's a delusional serial killer in a murder cult, but Ford has no idea Stan's dead, as the only reason he knew in the first place was because he saw Stan feed. Stan doesn't get kidnapped, but he's determined to help Ford out of the cult and Ford wants to keep Stan close, because now that Stan's here and almost got jumped Ford realizes he's a weakness, one Ford didn't realize he had and almost lost. He has to keep Stan safe from the horrors of the night, even if it means putting up with Stan telling him and everyone else they're crazy and need to seek help.

Except Stan is still very much a hungry vampire that had his hunt interrupted, and he's not about to let Ford boss him around.

So Stan's sneaking out constantly to bite muggars, while Fords cursing missing The Beast again, and upset Stan keeps putting himself in danger. Keeps running into him out and about, just a few blocks away from drained vampire corpses. Totally oblivious to the danger he could have been in! Stan's annoyed Fords helicoptering, but also happy to be able to talk with him and the fact he's getting free food and housing here.

The comedy of errors keeps happening, with a background horror of 'what is Stan up to in the dead of night?' because obviously he's not a vampire! He's out in the sun! He's eating food! None of the vampire deterrents work against him, so he can't be one!

I imagine it'd last for a few months, until someone finally realized the Beast was following their trail, not the other way around, and Ford puts everyone on lock down. Its hunting them back! They need to prepare for an attack! It could be watching them at any moment.

Except Stan is already there, and he's getting hungrier and hungrier.

Then the horror movie happens. Stan's been hiding in his room, not feeling well and just so, so thirsty and hot. Ford's trying to help him, but he needs to focus on the threat. Someone comes to bring Stan a bowl of soup, then gets jump scared by a starving Venus Vampire Trap, who's not locked up and can therefore hunt as he pleases. Grabs the tiny furnace with the bowl, sniffs at them, then chucks them away. Way too hot, he's looking for something colder. Tears through the base, ignoring all the anti vampire stuff and sniffing at everyone, fangs bared, face full of blue lines, classic vampire blood rage. A very calm, not very bloody one?

Until Stan disappears into the daylight, vanishing before anyone can tackle him and hissing slightly at the sun.

Ford scours the city, horrified about the vampire they'd been harboring. How long? When? What? Why didn't Stan bite anyone, even though he was obviously starving?

Tracks him down in a vampire nest a day later, one thats full of corpses. Stan's been slurping up all the different vamps at his leisure, kinda full but not passing up all the free food. What vampires Stan's left half drained were paralyzed, letting Stan get back to them when he got hungry again. So Ford walks in to his brother in a pile of corpses, teeth in a vampire neck and doing that slow drinking thing you do when you're kinda full but don't want to let your meal go to waste. The vampire in his mouth still very much alive, and Ford is just watching it all happen, very :0 face at all the blood everywhere.

Then Stan sees him and perks up. Lets go of the vamp he was eating and goes 'oh hey bro, whats up' then clamps down again, eyes still gold but the red gone, slurping the vampire in his trash bag pile. Good thing he doesn't care about the environment, he's made a bit of a mess, is so hard in denial he's not even looking at anything but Ford, can't look at it because then he has to Acknowledge that he knows somethings up with him.

He's just sick. He's been sick. Nothing else happened, because it can't have happened.

Vampires aren't real.

Too bad Fords here to pop that bubble and all the corpses are stacked around Stan and hes currently eating a vampire. Cue angsty yelling match as Ford is pointing at all the evidence around him, and how stupid did think Stan think he was? He's clearly a vampire! Has been one the whole time! Was this all some kind of ploy, and if so whats the point!

Is not prepared for Stan's vehement denial and then breakdown about being a vampire. Stan can't be dead! Because if he died then he never made it! He died and is dead and his whole life was one wasted thing after another and he was killed and shoved in a box! He should have died a year ago behind some bar in a no name town in Wyoming! Fuck Wyoming Ford! Things have been trying to eat him! So many things, all the time! He could have snuffed it a thousand times over, and no one would have noticed! He hasn't done anything with his life and now he's not alive because Vampires Are Real and He's a vampire because some creep in a top hat was mad he wasn't his brother! Its always about Ford! Stan couldn't even die for anything he caused!

And Stan is covered in blood the whole time, gripping his current meal like a teddy bear while it snarls in his arms, paralysis the only thing keeping it from going on a rampage. Stan clamps back on, trying to eat his feelings away but with his eyes closed so he can't see what he's doing. Doesn't want to See anything, just eat something yummy and pretend its ice cream.

Then Ford has to climb over the body pile and awkwardly try to hug Stan while also avoiding the other vampire and grimacing at all the cold corpse blood.

Anyway, thats what would have happened :)

[kabsey]

As soon as what is left of the team staggers back to the Lighthouse from Tearstone Island, Taash stalks away from the eluvian with long strides that far outpace anyone who would follow them. Bellara starts to anyway, but Emmrich stops her with a gentle hand on her arm. From the way they move, Taash has suffered no life-threatening injuries, and he has seen the outward ripples of death so many times, the exponentially expanding effect it has on the surrounding environment. He knows that the weight of Taash's compound grief is too heavy, is crushing them too completely for them to find the air to speak.

Instead Emmrich guides Bellara's attention back to Davrin with a look and a nod. She is at the Warden's side in an instant, though despite his limp, she resists the urge to drape his arm over her shoulder. After many close calls, Davrin has impressed on all of them the importance of keeping their distance when his armor is thick with blight, and he is covered after putting himself between the team and Ghilan'nain again and again. Her hands stubbornly still hover near him, as faithful to her friend as Assan herding him forward from his other side.

He manages to reach the infirmary under his own power, and Bellara hurries to fill the tub in the corner with steaming-hot water. She hasn't had time to study its magical properties yet, but it somehow manages to fill and drain in a continuous cycle, washing away blood and blight as easily as dirt and leaves. If it were anyone but Davrin, she would wait just outside, but they are both Dalish and casual nudity is nothing to anyone raised in a clan. When he is out of his armor, blight only stains his face and hair, so she is finally able to take his arm and help him into the tub.

He ducks his head immediately, scrubbing out the filth until the water is clear again. It seems to take every bit of his remaining energy—emotional and physical; when he's done, he simply sits in the water, elbows on his bent knees, head in his hands. Bellara feels the first tears fill her eyes, and she knows they share the same grief and fear—for Harding and Rook, of course, but it's Neve's loss that trembles between them with a thundering heartbeat. At any other time, in any other way, she would be rapturous at the vindication that, despite their insistence to the contrary, her two friends are so much more than friends to each other, but she suspects that Davrin's desperation as he'd pounded against the darkened surface of the eluvian on Tearstone will live in her nightmares for years to come.

She heals his wounds while he gathers himself and then brings him a towel. His only protest when she leads him to one of the bunks is a perfunctory grunt; he's too experienced a warrior to deny himself needed rest. She plans to stay close, but when she hears shouts and the thuds of falling objects from the floor below, she goes to investigate, leaving Assan behind with instructions to find her if Davrin needs anything.

Emmrich has only managed to coax Spite as far as the library, and the spirit is ripping books from the bookshelves amid demands that Emmrich use them to bring Rook back. Manfred hisses with distress as he scurries to and fro collecting the fallen books.

"Spite," Emmrich scolds, "you must allow me to heal Lucanis."

"No!" Spite shouts. "Find! Rook! First!"

"I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to locate Rook, but if Lucanis is unconscious after his head injury, then both of you may be in serious danger."

Spite growls, but his wings retract with an audible snap and he throws himself onto the library's couch.

"Not unconscious," he grumbles. "Doesn't want. To talk. Doesn't want. To think. Doesn't want. To feel."

Emmrich shares a look with Bellara, who is watching the scene unfold from the balcony outside the infirmary. Her cheeks are lined with tears, and at Spite's proclamation, several more follow the tracks of their fellows. She descends the stairs as Emmrich sits beside Spite to heal Lucanis's body. As the injuries mend, he winds a thread into the spell to encourage drowsiness, though in truth, Lucanis's long-standing exhaustion does most of the work. By the time he lets the spell lapse, Spite is curled on the couch fast asleep, mouth open and one arm flung over the side like a child exhausted by a tantrum.

Emmrich winces as he rises to his feet, rolling his stiff neck. Bellara hurries to his side, hand aglow with a healing spell of her own, but he waves her off.

"Merely a few bruises," he assures her. "You?"

"I'm fine," she says. "Well, not fine, but I'm not hurt."

Her gaze darts from Lucanis's sleeping form to the closed doors of the infirmary and Taash's room above before settling back on him. Her face is twisted with despair.

"What are we going to do?" she whispers.

He sets his hands on her shoulders. "Bellara, what did you see when Rook disappeared?"

She blinks her dark eyes up at him, still dazed with loss and the horrors they have witnessed, but then he sees her usual sharpness return, piqued as always by an unanswered question.

"The resonant energies produced by Ghilan'nain's death ripped a tear in the Fade. Rook was pulled through."

"Anything else?"

She catches her lower lip between her teeth, and her eyes wander to the murals that adorn the walls. "For a split second, I thought I saw someone else, and then the tear seemed to distort right before it closed."

"Yes!" Emmrich assures her. "I saw the same. Did the distortion remind you of anything?"

"It looked a bit like the portal that Elgar'nan used to arrive in the Wetlands when we fought the dragon."

Her eyes widen, and she nearly jumps as she turns back to him and latches onto his forearms. "The ritual! The first one, I mean! Solas's ritual! He was sucked into the gods' prison when they were released. It was an exchange!"

"Precisely!" Emmrich declares. "I believe that figure we saw was Solas himself and that he portaled himself away from the tear as soon as he stepped through. Which he was only able to do—"

"Because Rook has taken his place in the gods' prison!" The momentary thrill of solving a puzzle drains from Bellara's face, and she releases her grip on Emmrich to curl her hands around her own neck.

"Rook is in the gods' prison," she repeats in a whisper. Tears fill her eyes again. "How do we get her out?"

Emmrich sighs, and he feels his own weariness and despair in the slump of his shoulders. "I don't know. Not yet. But we at least have a starting point. And we will not rest until Rook and Neve are safely back with us."

Bellara gazes up at him for a moment and then throws her arms around him and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tightly, soaking up the comfort just as desperately.

When she pulls back, she offers him a wan smile. "Thank you," she says in a fervent voice.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

She sniffs, but no more tears fall. "For giving me hope again."

"My dear girl," he says with a fond smile and another squeeze of her shoulders. "Now come. We have work to do."

[saintsroww]

TITLE. All I Have IN SHORT. clingy!jinx X reader "I Can't lose you too." | made with WLW in mind. CROSSOVER. Arcane: League of Legends X Cyberpunk 2077 WC. 1,555 CR. official art [ Arcane: League of Legends ] this is the outside of jinx's place that i tried my best to describe lmao TALKING. first ever fanfic. send any healthy criticism, i'd love that! at first it was ripperdoc!jinx but i had no idea where i was going with this tbh so i just went with clingy jinx lmao. and apparently jackie died differently in this teehee. might seem ooc, yikes. did I eat with this one yall? lmk :( PROJECT BEGUN. 11/30/2024 this took me awhile HAH! ACT. iii

Night City was bustling with people cheering and yelling, the disruptive revving of car engines speeding down the wide streets, the cool night air whispering past your skin, your hands comfortably resting in the pockets of your pants, your right hand holding onto your keys hidden inside the pocket, and your head slightly lowered as you stride past other people on the packed sidewalk. Your knuckles carry a faint throbbing ache that you're awfully familiar with. The night sky makes the ads displayed practically on every building look more vibrant than in the daytime. Your heart felt heavy, burdened by an overwhelming wave of sorrow and distress, while your composure dangled precariously, clinging on by the slightest thread.

You slip past multiple distracted spectators watching the race in Little China, occasionally bumping into others as you make your way through the other side of the crowd. Headlights whipping by, the smell of body sweat and alcohol invaded your nostrils. Your left-hand rises from your pocket to push a bystander to the side, finally making it out of the crowd to the other side, your main focus on reaching out to someone you held dear after a hot minute of your absence.

The street life drained you in ways you knew you'd be in if it meant you'd stay afloat in Night City. As the days went by including you sending little to no messages to Jinx, backstabbers were left sniffling the ground you walk after you're done with them, biz dealing with individuals where you can't always put your guard down, foolish gangoons pushing their luck with you. Being protective of what's rightfully yours, or taking from the more fortunate, getting to the top meant having every advantage you could get, and then you'll have a better chance to get far in this line of dangerous work.

After another minute of walking alone, the sounds of the people's voices faded as you made a right turn, chip bags, bottles, garbage bags, and papers lightly blown about, all this junk on the ground was a normal sighting in this inescapable city. As you walked further into a narrow alleyway, you stood in front of a gate that stopped you from moving forward, cyberpunk lighting coming from the street lamp behind it brought the otherwise dreary alleyway into.. something somewhat lively, and homey. You can give it that.

At the end of the alleyway were colorful chalk drawings of angry cartoonish monkeys and smack dab in the middle of the wall was a portrait of a little girl beautifully drawn by You and Jinx's hands on the brick wall. Pink wires as the background, and the two words "POW POW!" written above her head were drawn in a sprite shadow font. A soft smile touched your lips, the drawing carried a heavier purpose of memorabilia after little Isha's passing, and the relationship you three shared, you and Jinx cherished it. Pulling your right hand out from its pocket, multiple keys held together by a ring jingled from your hand movements, eyes scanning over all of them to land on a basic, silver key.

Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you insert the key into the slot and steadily turn it to unlock the gate. Shoving the keys back into your right pocket, you push it open with your forearm, stepping through the gate door, you close it behind you and quickly move toward the steps, the soles of your worn-out shoes softly thud against the concrete as you walk up the short set of stairs. You halt all your movement when you stand right in front of the entrance to Jinx's place. Rock music booming in the confines of the room's four walls was muffled by the metal door firmly standing in your way.

Letting out a barely audible breath, anticipating the argument you're going to walk yourself into. You swiftly repeat your actions by unlocking the door to her place. As you step through the threshold of the doorframe, slamming the door behind your back, your eyes are immediately met with a woman's slender figure in the middle of the room, aiming a gun your way that'd gradually lower to her left side as your recognizable appearance instantly brought her eyebrows to rest from its tight frown, her wide stare softened faintly. Her expression gradually faded into something resembling ease and a drip of irritation. The lightly worn-out leather chair behind her spun, showing the urgency and haste in her movement when met with anything that could quickly lead to life or death.

"Ah, Y/N." Drawing your name out with false unenthusiasm and unrestrained annoyance that had an underlying sense of harmlessness to it. "Popping in after ghosting me for three days?" Her voice was raspy, her upper lip subtly curling upwards. Violet-red eyes holding you in your place, her head tilting a little to the side, her jagged side bang obscuring her right eye, making her dark eyebags more notable because of the pink lighting in the room. She placed the gun in her left hand on the metal table beside her, turning down the rock music playing through the phone with the same hand without delay. Her hands clasped together behind her back as she sauntered over to you, stopping her movement when she was just a foot away from you, her head leaning in a tad bit, her right hand rising to roughly press her index finger against your chest.

"Why were you gone for so long? You know I don't like it when you're gone for that long." It was heavy, the unblinking stare and the want simmering in her heart urging her to close the gap between the both of you.

"Fixer hooked me up with a job that included insane amounts of eddies but- a lot went wrong. And I…" You held it together in the first half of your sentence but you couldn't hold it together forever. Every single second you were left alone with your thoughts the morning after the job was finished, losing Jackie that night, the man who earnestly stood by you since you started doing biz, a man you trusted, the gunfight following as soon as the brief, intense, and loud burst of noise of a pistol going off, the bullet hole left in his forehead, blood seeping from it. He was gone, in such a short time-frame. You'd spent time outside of work with him, fought together, and saved each other from sticky situations- This loss on top of Isha's was a pierce to your solid heart harder than you prepared for.

Just speaking on anything relating to losing someone important to you, first Isha, now Jackie.. You had to see Jinx, after going through that, you couldn't sit alone in your apartment that felt so void without anyone occupying it other than you, and being alone with your thoughts wasn't ideal. "Ahh… I just can't lose you too, Jinx. I'd rather it'd be me in harm's way, y'know?" Your eyes heat up. Darting, staring anywhere but at the woman standing right in front of you. Your bottom lip curls in for your upper teeth to bite down on it for a moment. Tears threaten to spill out.

She's all you have left.

A palm, warm to the touch, cups one side of your face, tenderly ushering you to look at her, tugging you out of the deep pit that is the fear consuming you. Her eyes meet yours head-on, a weak, close-lipped smile adorning her lips, her bottom lip vaguely trembling, her face expressing the same pain you held, understanding well how you feel at this very moment. Her thumb moves in smooth, circular motions upon your cheekbone. You gently grasp Jinx's upper arm, the arm using the same hand that tenderly strokes your cheek.

Neither of you could stall it any longer; both of you sought solace in the only person left willing to offer an hour of reprieve: each other. It was Jinx who moved first, ending the last shred of space left between you two to wrap her arms around you into a hug. Her nails digging into the back part of your shirt, Jinx's nostrils flare when she deeply inhales the scent of your vanilla fragrance with a hint of sweat, nestling her face further into your neck. "Just… Don't do that again, Y/N…" She spoke in a hushed tone, her lips slightly parted as the tension in her body melted from the comfort of your body heat.

"It was like.. I had no one when you were gone. You didn't even send me a message."

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, skeptical that your voice would shatter if you were to utter another word again. Your arms are wounded around her waist leaving Jinx's mind empty of anything negative leaving only tranquility you unknowingly bring to her already deteriorating soul. Choosing to gently nod your head as an alternative, your right hand slithering up to lay upon the shaved side of Jinx's head, your other hand moving up to plant itself on the small of her back. "Ha… 'msorry." Your voice was feeble, your breath tickling Jinx's nape.

"Heh, deep down, you're still a softie." A full smile graced her lips, her hold on you unyielding.

[slightly-knot-insane]

can you do himbo orange cat bf smut?

Cats (Don't) Like It Wet

[ himbo orange cat hybrid x fem!reader ]

a/n: he's not so much of a himbo here, sorry sorry 😅 content: dirty talk, degradation, fingering, p i v

Your boyfriend can understand taking a quick shower. He's a cat hybrid after all, and cats are very clean and showers are necessary. But why would you enter a bathtub full of water and soak inside for an hour? It doesn't make any sense.

"What takes her so long?" He grows increasingly impatient this time so he decides to join you. Without knocking, of course, because why would he.

You are blissfully submerged in your hot water, soaping your shoulder, when your boyfriend barges in and looms over you, his ears twitching in irritation.

"What," you say with a raised an eyebrow.

He crosses his arms and his eyes dart around the bathroom. "You... were there too long. It's not good for... your health."

With his back as straight as an arrow, he sits on the edge of the bathtub, his back turned toward you. His orange tail is tucked under his ass, not to touch the water or the bubbles.

"What are you talking about?" you ask him and chuckle. "Are you... Are you sulking I'm taking a bath? Why don't you join me, you dirty cat?"

"Me? Dirty?" He turns to you and snarls, showing his sharp teeth, his orange hair raising. "I took a shower this morning!"

You flick your fingers and splash his face with a few droplets of water, and his eyes bulge. "You did not just—" but he never manages to finish the sentence. In the attempt to intimidate you, he bends down, but even his keen cat senses aren't good enough for soapy bathtub rim. His arm slips, and he falls backwards, his legs flying up helplessly.

It took you a while to stop laughing and your cat boyfriend didn't accept that lightly.

"Are you done?" he asks sitting in the bathtub across from you, completely wet, pouting.

You slide forward to lie on top of him and he looks at you with interest. "Rub my back. I will unplug the bathtub and, as soon as it drains, we get out and I'll let you do to me whatever you want."

Your boyfriend's eyes dilate and you know he forgot all about pouting now. "Deal!"

You turn around, remove the plug, and sit on his still clothed lap so that he could massage your shoulders. Of course, he uses this opportunity to rub your soft and soapy breasts and nib at the nape of your neck. Soon he gets bored and you feel his boner pushing against your plump ass. "How much longer? I want you."

What he doesn't know is that you pressed your foot over the drain to stop the water from flowing out too fast. You just love getting massages and back rubs. And having long and relaxing baths with your partners. "Mmmm. Soon," you hum with your eyes closed.

"Hey!" he shrieks. Oh damn. He figured it out. "You cheated!" He pulls you toward himself and your feet go up. The betraying 'plop' is too obvious and you can't lie anymore. The water is now quickly draining underneath your bodies.

"You little naughty mouse", he says, and a dangerous purr vibrates around his every syllable. His clawed hand is now squeezing your tit mercilessly, as he pushes the other between your legs, easily squirming one finger between your folds. You are not only wet from the water now.

His purr reaches hungry lows, and he positions your knees over the bathtub rim, opening you up for his finger to prod inside you and extract a whimper from you. "I'll make you dirty again. I'll get you all sweaty and soiled again."

His lean body wriggles underneath you and you feel his cock against your entrance. "Put it inside, you slut. I know you want it. I know you want to feel it stretch you."

Of course you do. With a trembling hand you position the tip inside your entrance and moan loudly when he pushes his hips upward to insert his cock deeper. "Now ride it, slut," he orders you.

With a first roll of your hips you feel the tip hitting your g-spot just right. "Aaah... yes..." you moan, grabbing the bathtub rim for support, while your cat boyfriend lovingly bites your neck and pinches your nipples. You get so close so fast and he notices it.

"Already? You are such a whore. You love my cock, don't you?"

"Yes," you whimper while bucking your hips fast, chasing that release.

"I really want to get out of these wet clothes so I'll let you cum now." He slowly slides his two fingers against your clit. "But then I'm taking you to our warm bedroom and fucking your pussy until its all nice and creamy and dripping."

Listening to him purring next to your ear, saying lewd things, and feeling his long fingers rubbing your swollen clit lights up your nerves. The urge pulsating inside your cunt compresses and almost pains you until it explodes and releases the most beautiful sensation there is.

"I got you, I got you," your boyfriend whispers, holding you, watching your legs tremble, the sweetest screams filling his ears. His cock is out of you, twitching, all red and close to its own climax. He grabs it and, fueled with your beautiful full-body orgasm, quickly shoots his load all over your belly and pulsating cunt.

It takes you two a minute to catch your breaths and, while you kiss, he slowly smears his cum all over your body and face. "There," he says with a devilish smirk. "Who's dirty now?"

[virtualreader]

cleansing the soul

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: hot showers and hot moments are two of the few pleasures left in an apocalyptic world, so instead of being embarrassed by your little unexpected encounter, you and Rick decide to take advantage of the comfortable situation that has recently came your way.

word count: 2,6k.

warnings: unprotected sex (p in v), little praising and dirty talking, etc. (not proofread)

requested: yes (by anonymous).

a/n: it may not be exactly what you asked for, but I felt like adding more than 'a little bit of smut' to this one (i was so needy), hope you like it all the same.

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

Showers—hot and drawn-out showers—, one of the many privileges that you and your group now enjoyed, thanks to the Alexandrians' hospitality.

The water running over your skin, carrying away the filth along with it as it reached the shower’s floor, disappearing through the drain with a little swirl. The vapor emanating from your wet body taking up the whole room, misting the bathroom’s mirror. And that purity feeling, both physical and mental, when you step out, enveloping yourself in a towel, just as if the water could wash away the stresses and turmoil of the day.

It was moments like these that made all the struggles and hardships worth it—the battles, the injuries, and even the sacrifices—just to relish in these simple pleasures once again.

It was a rare occasion to experience calm and quietness in the house, given that you lived with three adults, a teenager, and a baby. Therefore, when the house was left empty, you seized the opportunity to take a well-deserved shower.

It was a moment of solitude that you had been longing for, and you could finally let your mind wander without any interruptions.

While the house was usually bustling with activity, with Michonne on a run, Rick busy helping out around the settlement, Carl spending time with Enid, and Judith being looked after by Carol, you knew that this time the house would be empty long enough for you to fully relax and enjoy your shower.

You relished in the feeling of the warm water cascading over your body, washing away any stress or tension that had built up over the day.

As you reached for the shampoo bottle, you heard the unmistakable sound of the doorknob rattling. You paused, wondering who could be on the other side and if they intended to disturb you.

The bathroom door creaked open slowly, revealing Rick's exhausted face. His eyes darted around the shelving over the bathroom sink as he searched for whatever he came in for.

He then turned his gaze to your naked figure, barely visible through the steamy, condensated screen, a shocking expression taking over his face.

"Shit, sorry," Rick quickly apologized as soon as he saw you. "I didn't mean to—I um should've knocked. Um, I—I'II just go," he stuttered, backing away from the door.

You smiled at his flustered state, finding it endearing.

"No, it's okay," you reassured him. "You can stay if you want."

Rick hesitated for a moment before nodding and stepping inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on your body as he leaned against the sink, watching you out of the corner of his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips.

As Rick leaned against the sink, he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"I'm grateful that we found a safe place to stay," he said, his voice filled with exhaustion and gratitude. "I don't fully trust these people, but it's been a stressful time for us and with all the uncertainty and fear 'bout where we'd end up... I don't know, 'm just glad yours and the kids' life are no longer in danger.”

He paused, his eyes scanning the bathroom before landing on your figure, still enveloped in steam from the shower.

"We're here now, Rick," you said. "I feel like we can finally start to relax and focus on rebuilding our lives." you paused again, your voice growing softer as you added, "even be a family. And I'd love you to feel the same way about all this."

The weight of your words hung in the air, each syllable carrying with it a sense of hope and determination.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you as you watched him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom lights.

For the past few weeks, life had been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty. You and your group had been on the run, constantly on the move in search of a safe place to stay. But despite the constant danger and fear, you had managed to stick together, relying on each other for support and strength.

And now, as you stood together in the bathroom, the sound of the shower filling the room with a soothing hum, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. It was as if, for the first time in a long time, everything was going to be okay.

"I know it's not going to be easy," you reassured Rick, breaking the silence. "But we'll make it work. We always do."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was true—you and your group had faced countless challenges and obstacles, but you had always managed to overcome them, together, despite the heartbreaking losses you've had to experience.

As you watched Rick, his eyes scanning the bathroom once again before meeting yours, you knew that this was just the beginning.

There would be more challenges to come, more battles to fight. But as long as you had each other, you were ready to face whatever the future held.

With a maneuver of his hand, Rick turned the faucet on, a strong flow of water hitting the sink's white structure almost immediately.

You observed his actions mindfully, not missing a single detail of how he prepared to shave what little beard he had had time to grow in the two weeks you had been in Alexandria, since he had shaved it off the very first day you arrived at the town.

You couldn't help but notice the intense concentration on his face as he meticulously shaved off each hair, one by one. It was clear that Rick had developed a routine when it came to shaving, perhaps as a way to keep a sense of normalcy and control in a world that was constantly changing and unpredictable.

As he reached for his face, sliding the razor over his foam-covered skin, you couldn't help but notice the intricate pattern of the veins on the back of his hand, standing out in relief as if sculpted from stone.

It was fascinating to watch the muscles in his arm flex as he expertly maneuvered the razor, his biceps bulging with each movement.

The thick, white foam spread across his face, obscuring his chiselled features, but his sharp jawline remained visible, accentuating the rugged handsomeness of his face.

The sound of the razor gliding over his skin was like a soft whisper, and the scent of shaving cream filled the air with a fresh, clean fragrance, as if he was emerging from a cocoon of foam, ready to face the day with confidence.

Rick kept glancing over at you, each time holding his gaze a little longer. The way his eyes lingered on you created a feeling of longing, as if he were silently begging you to come closer.

You couldn't help but feel your heart race a little faster each time he looked your way, wondering if he felt the same way you did.

"Rumor has it I make you nervous," you teased, breaking the comfortable silence between you and Rick.

He chuckled, his eyes still fixed on you. "Who said that?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Your eyes," you replied, gesturing to his gaze that was still fixed on your body.

He shrugged, a smirk forming on his lips. "Can you blame me? You look amazing."

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you. "Do you not like when I look at you like that?" Rick asked, noticing your reaction.

You shook your head, biting your lip. "No, I like it," you admitted, feeling bold. "In fact, why don't you come over here and show me just how much you like it?"

He hurriedly unfastened his belt, dropping his pants onto the tiled floor. The clinking of the belt on the cold surface echoed in the room, indicating he had already freed himself from the garment. With a mischievous grin, Rick stepped closer to you, entering the shower, his clothes drenched from the shower water.

"Gladly," he murmured before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

As he looked at you, the water cascading down your body, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. The way the water droplets clung to your skin, glistening in the light, was a sight to behold. And as he watched you, he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow stronger.

"Don't you look pretty?" He said, his voice low and husky. "All wet and clean for me." He reached out his hands and pulled your soaked hair out of your face, allowing him to admire your face from his height as he towered over you.

The steam from the shower surrounded you, creating an intimate atmosphere. You felt his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your body. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the way he looked at you made you feel desired and wanted.

"I wonder if you're half as wet down there," he said, his voice filled with a hint of teasing.

You blushed at his words, feeling a rush of heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, with hunger and desire in his eyes, made you feel like the only woman in the world. You could feel your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Guess you'll have to find out yourself," you said raggedly.

His cotton t-shirt was dropping, the water turning the fabric a shade darker than it originally was. The wet garment hugged his figure flawlessly, exalting his broad and muscular physique.

Rick continued to kiss you deeply, his lips soft and warm against yours.

You could feel the heat emanating from his body and his hand, resting on your lower back, pulling you closer. As his skin touched yours, you couldn't help but feel a rush of electricity pulsing through your veins.

The sensation of his big hand on your lower back sent shivers through your body, making your toes curl with pleasure. You could feel your heart racing and your breathing quickening, as you leaned into him, savoring every moment of this intense intimacy.

As you pressed your body against his, you could feel your clit throbbing with desire, as the intense pleasure coursed through your veins. The heat and passion between you was palpable, as you lost yourself in the moment, completely consumed by the intensity of your desire for him.

Your closed eyes may have prevented you from seeing the desire in Rick's movements, but the bite he took on your lower lip, followed by a loud moan that escaped your mouth, gave it away.

Placing a path of gentle kisses, he reached your neck, where he started sucking on your skin hard enough to leave a mark - his way of letting other men know that you were his property.

As you struggled to pull Rick's t-shirt over his head, you couldn't help but notice the way his wet skin glistened in the light. Despite the fabric fiercely sticking to him, you managed to get it off with a little effort.

Rick then bent down and grabbed you by your bare hips, pulling you towards him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his face dug into your pussy, his fingers sinking into your skin.

It was a moment of pure ecstasy, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure. As you looked down at him, you noticed the way his eyes sparkled with desire.

The feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, that you found yourself scratching Rick's back in a desperate attempt to let out all the pent-up frustration and need that had been building up inside you.

As you dug your nails into his skin, you could feel the muscles in his back tense and ripple beneath your touch. It was as if the intensity of your desire was being transferred through your fingertips, flowing into him and back again, creating an endless loop of need and pleasure.

Despite the warmth of the water cascading over your bodies, you could feel the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your heart racing as the pleasure intensified. You could hear the sound of your own breathing, ragged and uneven, mixing with the sound of the water hitting the shower floor.

“Turn around.” he demanded, his voice strict, yet mellow.

He grabbed your shoulders, positioning you just how he desired, and when he finally had you facing the wall, slightly bent over, his hand clasped your buttock. Using only two fingers, he traced the rim of your entrance.

“Well, you definitely are wet.” Rick whispered hoarsely as he stepped closer to you. “Is that my doing, sweetheart?”

Unable to word a coherent answer, you sighly moan. His fingers lose contact with your sensitive intimate skin, earning a craving complaint from you.

“You either use your words or I won’t go on, baby girl.”

"Ye-yes," you manage to strangle out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "It's all because of you, Rick.”

“Good,” he said, placing his fingers where they previously were, luckily for you. “I like having that effect on you.”

"Get over here," Rick growled, his voice low and full of desire as he distanced himself from you ever so little.

You obeyed, turning to face him, your naked body pressed against his. The heat between you was intense, and you could feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach.

Without a word, Rick lifted you up in a sudden burst, pressing your back against the shower wall. The water cascaded over your bodies, creating a sensual atmosphere that added to the intensity of the moment.

As Rick entered you, you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, and you could feel your orgasm building with each thrust. Rick's movements were fast and hard, his body slamming into yours as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, with one final thrust, you felt yourself explode, your body shaking with pleasure as you cried out Rick's name. It was as if all the tension, all the helplessness, all the fear and uncertainty of the past few weeks had been released in that one moment of pure ecstasy.

Rick followed soon after, his body shuddering as his hot cum spilled inside you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you panting heavily as the water continued to rain down on you.

You clung to him, your breathing ragged as you both came down from the high of your orgasm.

"That was..." you trailed off, your words lost in the moment.

"Amazing," Rick finished for you, a satisfied grin on his lips.

As you stood there, both of you catching your breath and trying to come back down to earth, you couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness and intimacy that went beyond physical pleasure. It was as if the act of being together, of sharing this moment of pure bliss, had brought you even closer together than before.

"Let's get cleaned up," Rick said, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you stepped out of the shower, enveloping yourself in a towel, you felt a sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the safety that Alexandria had provided, for the hot shower that you were sharing with Rick, and most of all, for the love that you shared with him.

[angelnoe9]

Love beyond Deepspace

Chapter 3: The Third Time's the Charm

Summary of the chapter:

A quiet night. Still waters. You dip your feet into the pool—then something pulls you under.

Darkness. Cold. When you wake, you're somewhere else, and a stranger is watching you—one who knows exactly who you are.

𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚

Your heart pounded as realization set in. You were back.

Turning back to your best friend, you finally registered the sight of her lying in the hospital bed, her left arm wrapped in a cast. A dull ache settled in your chest.

"You…" Your voice wavered. "You're really here."

"Of course, I am." She gave you a puzzled look. "Where have you been? I've been calling you all day! Your phone was off, and you never showed up—I thought something happened to you!"

Guilt weighed heavily on you. You had promised to rush over when she told you she was hospitalized this morning. And now—it was already evening.

"I…" You hesitated, gripping the strap of your bag. How were you supposed to explain this? That you had been in a different world? That time had slipped through your fingers the moment you got pulled into Love and Deepspace?

Your best friend had always listened to you gush about the game. She knew how obsessed you were. But if you told her this—would she even believe you?

You swallowed hard. "Something happened. I—” You let out a breath. "I need to tell you something crazy."

She frowned but nodded, shifting slightly in bed. "Go on."

And so, you told her everything. From the first time you were transported after nearly getting into a car accident, to waking up in a strange forest where Xavier had found you, to the surreal feeling of the game world feeling so real. You told her about how Xavier and Zayne knew it was the game world, how they knew you, how they could hear you, and how they could even see you through the game’s strange reality.

You tried to explain how, every time you came back to your world, it felt like time had passed exactly as long as you had spent in the game world. It was as though there was no disconnect, no gap, even though when you came back, everything felt strangely… normal, like nothing had ever happened.

Your best friend was silent, processing everything you'd said. Then, she gave you a confused look.

"You’re telling me that you… met Xavier and Zayne in another world?" she asked slowly.

You nodded, avoiding her gaze.

"Okay…" She shook her head, clearly struggling to make sense of your story. "I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but this all sounds like stress talking. You said you were in danger… maybe it’s just your mind making up some kind of escape, right?"

You bit your lip, unsure how to prove something so strange. You didn’t have any physical evidence. The only thing you had were your memories—and those felt so real.

"You don’t have to believe me," you said softly, not wanting to make her more stressed. "Just… don’t worry about it. Focus on getting better, okay?"

She looked at you with concern but nodded, understanding that now wasn’t the time for this conversation.

"Just promise me you’ll rest, too," she said gently, squeezing your hand with her good one. "You’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want you stressing yourself out over this right now. You’re here with me, and that’s what matters."

You smiled, though it felt strained. "Yeah. I’ll rest."

After a few more moments, you made your way out of the hospital. The weight of the conversation lingered, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much you tried to explain, no one would ever truly understand. You didn’t know how to make them see the truth.

You walked down the street, feeling the weight of the day pulling at your shoulders. The hospital visit had been draining, and the conversation with your best friend lingered in your mind, unresolved. You didn’t feel like cooking tonight; the idea of standing over a hot stove completely unappealing. So, as you passed by a nearby café, the cool air spilling from the door, you decided to stop in for a break.

The café’s soft jazz music and the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you as you stepped inside. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the sticky heat outside. You walked up to the counter and ordered your usual comfort drink—an ice latte, but with extra sweetness to counter the bitterness. You liked it smooth, and sweet, just the way it helped you unwind.

You also added a burger to your order, the perfect pairing for a night where you just needed to stop thinking for a while.

You found a seat by the window, the lights of the café flickering softly. The city outside had quieted down a little with the night settling in. You stirred your ice latte, watching the condensation form on the glass as you took a sip. The sweet, creamy flavor flooded your senses, instantly soothing you. But the thoughts you’d tried to push aside kept creeping back in—your best friend, your strange experiences in the game world, and the unsettling feeling that you might never be able to explain it all.

The burger arrived, and you ate quietly, savoring each bite. It was comforting, grounding, and for a moment, you could almost forget about everything else.

After finishing your meal, you paid and stepped back outside. The sun had long since set, and the sky was now deep with stars. The air had cooled slightly, but the remnants of the day's heat still hung in the atmosphere, clinging to your skin.

As you walked back toward your apartment, your eyes caught sight of the pool across the street. Normally, it was a popular spot at this hour, with people laughing and splashing around in the water. But tonight, it was completely empty—no one in sight, just the quiet, shimmering water reflecting the soft streetlights above.

You paused, staring at the pool. It looked so peaceful, almost inviting, as if it was waiting for you to sit by its edge and forget everything for a while. You felt an undeniable pull to it, the need for a quiet moment in the cool water.

Without thinking twice, you crossed the street and slipped through the gate. The pool area was silent, and the cool air felt refreshing as you approached the edge. You sat down, slowly slipping off your shoes, and dipped your feet into the cool, soothing water. The gentle ripples made everything feel calmer, and a deep sigh escaped you as the tension in your legs began to melt away.

The cool night air surrounded you as you sat by the pool, your legs soaking in the water, lost in the quiet peace of the moment. Suddenly, an unseen force tugged at your ankles. Panic surged as you tried to fight it, but the pull only grew stronger, dragging you deeper into the pool. Your breath hitched, your vision blurred, and then everything went dark.

When you woke, there was no sound of water, no cool pool against your skin—just warmth and softness. Blinking slowly, you cleared the fuzziness from your mind and looked up. Above you, a galaxy swirled across a velvety blue ceiling, stars shimmering and their light reflecting off delicate glass panes. For a moment, you were mesmerized by the beauty before your senses fully returned.

You froze, sensing an intense stare beside you. Slowly turning your head, you saw him—Rafayel, watching you with an expression of awe.

His bluish-pink eyes were fixed on yours, wide with wonder. For a moment, you just stared back, your heart racing as the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity. It happened again, you thought, your mind struggling to process. Rafayel’s gaze deepened, his eyes pulling you in, and the room fell silent except for the sound of your heart thumping in sync with his.

Without thinking, your hand reached up and brushed across his cheek. The moment your fingers made contact with his skin, you felt a slight tremble beneath your touch. He looked as if he still couldn’t believe you were here, beside him.

Before you could say anything, he spoke, his voice laced with an amused surprise.

"Cutie, I can't believe I will see you passed out in my bathtub. Is my bathtub a portal connecting our worlds?" His teasing tone seemed so out of place in the situation, his carefree nature contrasting with the fact that you were here, in his world.

What you didn’t know was how unbelievable it had been for him. When he found you unconscious in his bathtub, his heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t believe his eyes—he had always thought you couldn’t come here. Confusion and panic flooded him as he checked your pulse, unsure if he was dreaming. Overwhelmed, he scooped you up in his arms, his grip both firm and gentle as he carried you to his bed. His heart pounded in disbelief, still struggling to understand how you had gotten here. He refused to leave you in the cold bathtub, and as he lay you down, he couldn’t help but stare at you in awe—here, in his world. It felt impossible.

Despite your confusion, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t think your bathtub is a portal,” you said, your voice still hoarse from the shock. "It’s not the first time I'm here, you know."

Rafayel’s expression shifted instantly. His lips curled into a perfect pout as he dramatically flopped onto his back, throwing his arms wide as if the universe itself had wronged him. “Not the first time?!” he whined, his voice dripping with playful jealousy. “Why am I always the one left out? I wanted to be the first to meet you, you know! And here I am, second in line again!” He crossed his arms over his chest, his face mock-sullen as he stared at you, clearly more upset by the fact that someone else had gotten to you first than by the situation itself.

You couldn’t help but smile at his dramatic reaction, but you decided to tease him a little more. “Well, it’s not the second time. It’s actually the third,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

Rafayel’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He froze for a moment, his mouth hanging open as if he couldn’t quite process what you’d just said. Then, with an exaggerated gasp, he flung himself onto his side, clutching his chest like he’d been struck by some cosmic injustice. “The third?!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock horror. “I’m third?! I can’t believe this! Not even second?!” His pout deepened as he dramatically rolled onto your side, hugging a pillow to his chest. “Why am I always so far down the line?” he mumbled, the playful jealousy in his voice unmistakable.

It was hard to hold back a laugh after hearing his dramatic pouting. You could already tell that he wouldn’t stay upset for long—Rafayel’s playful nature never let him stay in a bad mood for too long. And yet, despite his theatrics, here you were, in a world that still felt so unreal. You weren’t as surprised as you had been the first time, but you couldn’t help but feel in awe of how you had ended up here again, pulled into this world in the most unexpected way.

Rafayel peeked at you from the corner of his eye, his arms still wrapped around the pillow. His lips twitched slightly as if he was already fighting against his own need to forgive you.

“…Fine,” he finally huffed. “I guess I can’t stay mad at you.”

His words made your heart warm, even though you had expected them. His pout was still there, but it was softer now, and there was a small hint of fondness in his gaze.

But then his expression grew a little more serious. He sat up slightly, shifting to face you more directly. “But… what if you disappear this time and never come back?”

His words made your breath hitch.

You hadn’t thought about it like that before.

Of course, you had always wondered why this was happening—why you kept slipping between worlds. But hearing it from Rafayel, spoken so plainly, made it feel more real.

What if one day you left and never came back?

It wasn’t like you disliked coming here. In fact, every time you were here, you felt an undeniable happiness. Seeing the characters you had loved for so long, experiencing their world firsthand—it was exhilarating, dreamlike. But why? Why could you come and go? And more importantly…

What if you had to choose between this world and your own?

You couldn’t.

Your thoughts spun endlessly, spiraling into uncertainties you weren’t sure you wanted to face.

And then—warmth.

A gentle touch against your face.

Rafayel’s fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, grounding you.

“Don’t think about it too much,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. His bluish-pink eyes searched yours, his usual dramatic flair momentarily replaced by something softer. “I don’t know when you’ll leave again… but right now, you’re here. So let’s just focus on that.”

His thumb traced over your cheek, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though your mind still whirled with too many unanswered questions.

Rafayel pulled back slightly, the teasing glint returning to his eyes.

“And by the way,” he said casually, “you should really stop touching me in weird places when you interact with me in the game.”

Your entire body stiffened.

“…What?”

Rafayel shot you a knowing look, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned slightly closer. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Heat rushed to your face. “I—I don’t!”

He arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Oh? So it wasn’t you who kept poking my cheek every time I was talking seriously? Or dragging your fingers down my arm just to see how I’d react?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You had done those things in the game, but—!

“And let’s not forget,” Rafayel continued, his smirk growing wider, “that time you—”

“OKAY, OKAY, I GET IT!” you interrupted, your hands flying up to cover your burning face.

Rafayel chuckled, clearly pleased with your flustered state. “You should see yourself right now. Embarrassed, are we?”

You groaned, refusing to look at him. “You didn’t have to say it out loud.”

“Oh, but I did.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I should start keeping track of all the things you do in the game. Maybe I should write a list?”

You peeked at him between your fingers, scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “I swear, you’re the worst.”

Rafayel merely grinned. “And yet, you still like me.”

You hated how true that was.

A bit of time had passed since your playful bickering with Rafayel. The warmth of the moment, combined with the exhaustion from your long day, was starting to lull you into sleep. You stifled a yawn, feeling the heaviness settle over your body as you leaned back against the bed.

Rafayel noticed immediately. His teasing expression softened as he sat beside you. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, his voice quieter now. “You should rest.”

You hesitated. “I…” Your fingers curled slightly against the blanket as you lowered your gaze. “I feel like if I fall asleep, I’ll… go back.”

His expression froze for a brief moment before shifting into something unreadable. The corners of his lips twitched downward, but then, just as quickly, he masked it with a gentle smile. “Even if you do,” he said, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you’ll come back here again. I know you will.”

His unwavering assurance made something in your chest tighten. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to return to your world—but the thought of leaving this place, of leaving him, even temporarily, made you hesitate.

“You sound so sure of that.”

Rafayel gave a small chuckle, his fingers grazing yours before intertwining them with his own. His hand was warm—comforting. “Of course I’m sure. It’s you, after all.”

The way he said it, like there was no doubt in his mind, made you feel… safe.

Your eyelids grew heavier. His warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers gently curled around yours—it was enough to lull you into sleep before you even realized it.

Just before consciousness faded, you felt him shift slightly beside you. “Sleep well,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’ll watch over you.”

Rafayel kept his word.

He lay down beside you, never once letting go of your hand. The rise and fall of your breath, the peaceful expression on your face—he memorized all of it.

And, as the hours passed, he still didn’t let go.

He hadn’t slept a wink. Instead, he kept an eye on you the entire night, watching over you like he had promised. At some point, he found himself taking a few photos of your sleeping face with his phone. Just in case.

Then, as the first rays of morning light filtered into the room—

You stirred.

And then—

You vanished.

Rafayel’s fingers tightened instinctively around the now-empty space where your hand had been. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at the spot where you had just been lying.

Gone.

The warmth of your touch lingered, but your presence had disappeared completely.

A sharp pang of emptiness settled in his chest. He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly as he tried to push away the sudden wave of disappointment. “…Tch.”

Even though he knew this would happen, even though he had prepared himself for it—

It still hurt.

His gaze lowered to his phone, where the photos of you still remained on the screen. Strange. He had half-expected them to disappear along with you.

But they didn’t.

Rafayel sighed softly, staring at your sleeping face on his screen for a long moment before he muttered to himself—

“You’ll come back.”

His fingers hovered over the phone for a second before he locked the screen and set it aside.

Because no matter how much time passed—

He would wait.

𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚𓇼🐚

Taglist below.

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message.

@beaconsxd @young-adult-summer @froleineeeee @dissociativewriter @mansonofmadness @michiluvddr @m0ss-gremlin @mephisto-with-a-knife @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @yoongi-tunes @ladyof-themoon @jadeloverxd @shewrites247 @sinnamon-bunn @imhere2dosomething @mysticcollectionvoid @poptrim @godoffuckedupcats @babyx91 @browneyedgirl22 @szafficat @notleclerc @crystalfay

[peachesvault]

Swallows the tears

Friend!Bakugou x Reader

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 The conversations under the spray have changed. | Pt 1

A/n: Felt a bit angsty hehe but i won't do him dirty on his bday so ill make another part if people want a non angsty one. Wrote this one before the other so it might be a bit whack Not proofread pls tell if smths glaring

Katsuki bakugou was a lot of things. He grew up being the strongest, the loudest, the boldest, everywhere he went. He stared danger in the eye, and no matter what was thrown at him, he always managed to overcome it by gritting his teeth and powering through the pain with nothing but sheer willpower. The one thing he was not, was weak.

Yet here he was. Completely broken down in your arms under the scalding hot spray of the shower as you both laid there bruised and bloody, just two unfortunate kids who had nobody except each other and the weight of the world on their backs.

Maybe weak wasn’t the right word.

It was routine by this point, after a particularly hard battle you and him would sit under the spray, letting it swallow up both your tears. Completely raw and vulnerable, it was the darkest moments as you both shared your weight of pressure, expectations, grief. It wasn't easy, but you both made an effort to be there for the other. The showers knew the deepest secrets between the two of you, the insecurities, the ugly parts nobody in the class knew either of you had.

But this time it was so fucking hard. You wanted to be a good friend but there was nothing that could be said. You were both hurting so deep, anything else would just rip deeper into the wound that you both shared like birthmarks. So similar yet so different.

"It's going to be okay" he murmured bleeding out. To convince you or himself it wasn't clear.

You couldn't bring yourself to respond. You tried to grab his hand but only your finger twitched from the weight. You hummed.

The water showered down harshly, stinging like knives into the open wounds that littered both your bodies, imprinting itself like a burning iron rod. Painful. Searing. Agonizing and claiming.

Yet neither of you screamed.

People with much more willpower would have.

Neither of you had any fight left. It was easier to take it, the suffering was the same either way. There was no difference in trying to stem the damage.

"Maybe being a hero isn't worth it" He whispered.

You couldn't even bring yourself to be surprised at the Bakugou Katsuki saying that. Because you agreed.

You remember the day you genuinely became friends. The day he asked you to call him Katsuki. You had thought it was a joke. Asked him why. 'Your drive' had been his response.

Now neither of you had any drive. You laughed dryly

"It isn't"

Red eyes blinked at you.

"What did you say?"

.

"It isn't worth it"

Maybe this was the worst part. The boiling water rolling down your body turned ice cold when you saw his questioning eyes. Despite the needles stabbing your throat, you forced yourself to speak up.

You had to be wrong.

"Being a hero isn't worth it."

You got no response.

"Katsuki" you whispered broken.

He just stared at you, soaked to the bone. Yet it didn't hide the tear that rolled down his face.

In that moment, you knew he realized nothing would ever be the same again. You sucked in a pained breath as you repositioned to wrap your arms weakly around him.

“Katsuki, its okay”

“I promise”

You continued murmuring subconsciously but he wasn’t reacting to anything you said, he just stared blankly at your lips.

You pressed your palm to his cheek. He always hated that look of pity in your eyes, but he would give anything to hear it again.

Your blood mixed with his like a bonding ritual before washing down the drain. Just two unfortunate kids.

Do not plagiarise/copy/post on other platforms. All work is @peachesvault original works. || Masterlist

Taglist: @idontwannatalkrn1 @bratzblondie (Ik u didnt ask buttt)

[jeysbvck]

even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)

a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!

warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)

taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper

word count; 7.3k

summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.

Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.

No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.

But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.

He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.

He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.

Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.

-

Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.

After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.

Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.

Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.

The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.

He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.

Joel.

Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.

Mmm, Joel, don't stop!

He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.

His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.

"Shit."

-

It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.

Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.

Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.

But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.

But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.

"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.

"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.

"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.

"Not an option." Joel growled.

"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."

-

You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 

It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.

"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.

"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.

"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."

Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.

"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"

You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.

But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.

He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."

His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.

"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."

You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.

As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."

*

The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.

"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.

The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.

But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.

"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."

"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.

"Just go. I'll wash up here."

-

After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.

You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.

Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.

Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”

He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.

The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.

"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."

"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.

Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.

"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.

"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.

"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.

You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.

"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"

"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.

"It's my job to pro-"

"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.

Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.

Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"

"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"

"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.

Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.

You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"

Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.

It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.

"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.

“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.

You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.

"What?”

“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.

“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”

His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."

You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.

"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.

"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"

“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.

"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."

"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.

The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.

"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.

"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.

Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.

But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.

He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.

Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.

“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.

“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”

You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”

Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.

So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.

He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.

“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”

You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.

Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.

“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”

You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.

Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.

“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”

“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”

It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.

“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.

“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.

“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.

You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.

“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.

The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”