#i felt like shit and i hope to god she lives with the uncomfortable feeling of knowing that she can't fool my partner and i with her facade

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Loved your Emily x teenage daughter reader! Can you do another one where she starts feeling pressure to start having sex because a bunch of her friends are and Emily finds out so she talks with her about it

Hey, anon! I got two super similar requests back-to-back, so this is kind of a two-for-one, but I hope it's what you're looking for! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The World's Largest Box of Condoms

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader Warnings: discussions about sex, safe sex, genitalia, etc., so much secondhand embarrassment, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.7k

Summary: When your mom, Emily, finds your quickly-hidden box of condoms in the bathroom, you know you're in for one hell of a conversation.

“Honey!” your mom called from the bathroom, loud enough that you could hear her through your headphones. You pulled them off and listened for a moment before yelling back.

“What!?”

“Can you come in here, please!?”

You shrugged. Whatever it was, at least it’d be a nice break from your trigonometry homework. You tossed your pencil and headphones on top of your textbook and sauntered down the hall to the bathroom.

“What, Mom?” you asked, but your breath caught in your throat when you saw what she had sitting on the counter. It was condoms. So many condoms. The embarrassingly gigantic box of condoms you’d ordered on Amazon and hid behind the toilet paper. Which, in hindsight, was a stupid place to hide them. Your face flushed beet red.

She looked at you, stern, eyebrows raised. “You want to tell me why you’ve got a thousand condoms? I mean, Jesus, honey, I don’t know that I’ve used a thousand condoms in my life.”

“Mom, I–” You were floundering, sputtering, your stomach in your throat. “I can explain, I… Please don’t be mad.” You stared at the ground, face flaming.

To your surprise, your mom just laughed. You glanced up and found her rubbing her forehead, staring at the box. “A thousand condoms,” she chuckled, more to herself than you. “Oh, honey.” She threw an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. “I’m not mad. I just wish you'd talked to me before spending your life’s savings on the world’s largest box of condoms.”

“Y–you’re not mad?” you said, stumbling through your words, a cold sweat on the back of your neck.

She shook her head. “Nope. We do need to have a very frank discussion now, though.”

“Oh, god, Mom,” you protested.

“Look, I don’t know what they teach you in sex ed, but I can assure you in my day it was not enough.” She grabbed the box of condoms and moved toward the living room. “And I’ll be damned if my kid doesn’t know what they’re getting into. Come on, Y/N.”

You groaned, but followed her, sitting uncomfortably on the couch across from where your mom lounged in an armchair.

“Look, I understand this might feel awkward,” she started. “It’s not the most comfortable conversation I’ve ever had either. But I want you to know you can talk to me about this even if it’s awkward. And, above all, I want you to have all the information and resources you need to be safe. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly. 

Your mom exhaled heavily, then looked at you. “Alright, first things first, are you sexually active?”

You thought your face might be permanently flushed at this point. “No. Not… not yet. It’s not what you think, I just… my friends all are and I– I wanted to be ready I guess.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay. When you’re ready and who that’s with, those are your decisions, okay? But I want you to keep in mind when you get into those situations to think about how you’re feeling.”

“Like… what kind of feelings?”

“Well,” your mom shrugged. “I mean, for starters, does it feel good?”

“Oh my god, Mom!” you squealed, burying your face in a pillow.

“Sorry! But, as I’m sure you know, sex is supposed to feel good! I’ve had sex that felt great and sex that felt like shit, and sometimes I didn’t realize that “not feeling good” was a good enough reason to stop.”

You groaned into the pillow. You did not want to hear about your mom’s sex life. You knew she was just trying to educate you and help you and she was but… ugh! Why’d it have to be so awkward?!

She was in full mom mode now, her voice stern like a teacher’s. “When you’re in a situation where you’re thinking about having sex, you need to ask yourself, Do I feel safe? Do I feel good? Do I want to do this because I want to do it or because someone else wants me to?”

You nodded, exhaling slowly.

“And anytime you decide you want to stop, any time it doesn’t feel good or safe, the other person stops. Always. If they don’t, that is abusive behavior and you can call for help or do whatever you need to do to get safe.”

“I know all this already, Mom,” you needled. “Consent is king, blah, blah, blah.”

“And that goes for you, too,” she added, pointing at you. “If someone you’re with gives you anything less than wholehearted consent, or if they decide they want to stop, you stop. If they’re drunk or high, stop. If you’re drunk or high, stop.”

“Of course,” you said, throwing your hands up. “I would never, Mom. You know that.”

“I know, but…” She took a long sip of her wine. “It bears repeating.” She patted her leg. “Alright, now we get down to the dirty details.”

“Mom!” You were terrified. Exactly what kind of dirty details needed to be gotten down to!?

She cracked a smile. “I’ll try not to make it too hard on you, honey. Now, are you on birth control?”

You shook your head and gestured toward the box of condoms. “I mean, I was gonna be safe, though…”

Your mom shook her head and pulled out her phone. “Condoms aren’t 100% effective. I’ll make an appointment for you this week so we can get you on it. I will ask you not to engage in any sexual activity until after your birth control becomes effective, though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled.

“Now, are you planning on having sex with women at all?”

“I–” Your voice caught in your throat. “No, I mean… I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, just in case…” she said, holding up her hands defensively. “If you have sex with a woman, you still need to be cautious about STDs. Just be open with one another about your sexual history. I’m happy to take you to get an STD screening anytime you want. I have some dental dams around here somewhere, too, if you want them, but I think STD screenings are more effective with women.”

Suddenly, you were looking at your mom with new eyes. “You know a lot about being with women…” you observed.

Your mom gave you a look of equal parts love and equal parts pity. “Oh, honey. Why do you think your babysitters always stayed the night after I got back from working cases?”

Your jaw dropped. “You– what!?”

“The only people I trusted you with for that long were girlfriends, honey.” She took another swig of wine.

“You’re bi!?’

“Honey, we’ve talked about this,” your mom insisted. “When we first started talking about sex in elementary school, remember? I told you 99% of the time I liked women better.”

You felt like you were losing your mind. “You just said that you had better connections with women! Not that you sleep with women!”

“Is that right?” Emily said, wincing. “Yikes. My bad, sweetheart. I guess I just assumed you would have put two and two together by now.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’m just fucking dumb,” you grumbled, still shaken.

“You’re not dumb.” Your mom sighed.” I should have been more up front. We had pride flags and everything, though! We even went to Pride!”

You shrugged. “I just thought you were a really passionate ally.”

You looked up and your mom’s shoulders were shaking with laughter, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. When you both finally calmed down, she exhaled sharply.

“Alright, just a few more things. I promise!” she added when you groaned.

She looked at the ceiling, as if trying to summon all of her advice about sex.

“If a guy doesn’t want to wear a condom, do not sleep with him. They’ll try to say it doesn’t feel the same and maybe it doesn’t. I don’t give a fuck personally. The risk of getting pregnant is way more concerning to me than the risk of him having a slightly less great sexual experience. Always use a condom with a man.”

You nodded.

“The good news is, you’ll always have enough,” your mom grinned, pointing to the box.

You blushed and giggled.

"In all seriousness, though, condoms do expire. They last... three to five years, I think? But don't use an expired condom, it breaks down more easily."

She exhaled heavily. "Now, this last part is the most important, okay?” Your mom set her wine down, stood, and moved to sit next to you, taking your hand in hers. You avoided her eyes, cheeks red.

“If you ever feel in danger or in trouble, if you ever get pregnant, if you ever need help, you call me.”

She squeezed your hand, and you squeezed hers back. No matter how excruciatingly awkward this conversation had been, no matter how much you kind of wished you were anywhere else, you knew your mom would be there for you. You were glad to have a mom who wasn’t judgy, one who helped you be safe and trusted you to make good decisions. One who would help you even if you didn’t make good decisions.

“Alright?” she prompted. “You call me. And you be safe.”

And it was only then when you looked at your mom that you realized that as hard as this conversation had been for you, it might have been harder for her. She was a protective woman, your mom, an FBI agent. She’d literally kill someone before letting you get hurt. It was hard for her to let you go, probably. Hard for her to let you grow up.

“I will, Mom. I promise,” you assured her.

She exhaled deeply and kissed the top of your head, then gave you a light whack on the arm. “Alright. That’s all I’ve got. You can get back to your… geometry or whatever you’re working on.”

“Trig,” you corrected.

She nodded, sinking back into the armchair with her glass of wine, seemingly relieved the conversation was over.

“Oh, Y/N?” she called just as you stepped into the hallway. You turned to look at her, then blushed as she held your jumbo box of condoms up to you.

“Don’t forget your condoms, honey,” she chuckled. You snatched them from her blushing, but smiled as you turned back to your room. When you thought about it, you really did have a cool mom.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were roommates (part 11)

A/N: I hope this works because my internet is KILLING ME.

Warning: 18+ content SHIT IS STARTING TO GET REAL.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The next day, you and Simon had driven to the house. It felt like two parents visiting a house to move in with their kids. It made you laugh. The house was enormous. 4 bedrooms, three bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, a big living room with a tv big enough to feel like at the cinema.  A very modern house painted in dark tones. All that you liked. You had looked at Kate and General Hopkins as he spoke.

"You deserve some comfort. You've been such a great asset-"  

"You're trying to give me a luxurious house because I almost got killed." 

The silence set for a minute, Ghost grabbing the back of your pants as he stood behind you. 

"Yes… pretty much" the general admitted. 

You rolled your eyes. Kate shook her head. 

"You also deserve it. Plus you need a bigger space since you are having even more roommates." She smiled. 

You sighed. Ghost ran his thumb on your lower back, soothing you. It sent a shiver down your spine. He loved to do this. You had noticed it. These little touches, hidden from others. It grounded you to him. If you felt anxious, nervous or tense. You loved it. He couldn't stop touching you. 

The week after, you had moved in. Gaz and Soap were sharing a room, Konig had his own room and Ghost and you too. You had wanted to share Ghost's room but to keep things slow you had both preferred to stay like that. You'd share each other's beds in any way. Soap and Gaz were thrilled, Konig was too but in his own quiet way. Ghost seemed tense already. 

"Hey… you alright?" You asked when the boys were a bit further away in the house. 

"Starting to regret living with these idiots already." 

"Konig's quiet." 

"Wait until they play board games." 

You had laughed. 

You had settled in your room nicely. The space felt much bigger than your old apartment. However it felt less empty. Even from your room you could hear the boys laughing, or the TV playing. You smiled to yourself. Things had changed so much in a few months. You didn't regret it at all. 

You were putting away your clothes in your new walk in closet. You were at peace, finally. Walking back into your room, you yelped when you noticed someone sitting on top of your bed. 

"What the-" 

You squinted your eyes. You knew it was him. You would have recognized him even in the dark. But… him, sitting there, without his mask on, made your heart beat as if it wanted to leave your chest. 

"Fuck… even your face is hot." You let out. 

You immediately blushed when you realized that once more your mouth had been faster than your brain. 

You tried to hide your blushing face in your hands as you heard him laugh. 

"Come here bunny." 

You dropped your hands, biting your lip and walking to him. You stood in between his legs. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you…" 

You smiled, finally holding his face in your hands as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

"I was happily surprised." You whispered. 

He closed his eyes letting his face rest in between your chest, earning a chuckle from you. God he did look handsome. 

"I just… thought it was time to show you my face." He said, voice muffled by your own body. 

"I am honored. You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable." You assured him. 

"I feel safe with you. I don't mind at all." 

It made your heart jump in your chest. He felt safe with you. You wrapped your arms around his head, leaning your own on top of his. 

You remained like this for a little while until a knock was heard. 

"Hey guys!" Soap called. 

Simon groaned against you. You laughed. 

"Someone's here to see you!" 

You frowned. 

"We'll be downstairs in a minute Soap." You called back. 

You tried to separate the embrace but he held onto you. 

"Come on Simon. Let's go see who's there." You smiled at him. 

He stared at you for a long minute. 

"You're so pretty when you smile…"

You blushed heavily at the compliment. 

"Thank you…" you dropped a soft kiss on his lips. 

He sighed against your lips before you finally separated. He grabbed his mask that was thrown on top of the bed, only noticing it now, before dropping it over his head. 

You threw a last smile at him before you headed for the door. 

You walked down the stairs with him, meeting the rest of the house and Price in the living room. 

You turned your head to finally see your guests. Mellissa and Amy. 

"Oh Sparrow! Are you alright?" She was worried. 

"Y/N! Ghowsty!" Amy cheered. 

You could have laughed at the shocked expressions on the rest of the team. You finally reached them, taking Amy into your arms as she was impatiently extending hers towards you. 

"hey! How are you monkey?" you kissed her cheek making her giggle. 

As Simon came to a stop next to you she extended her arms to him. You had been beaten at this game. He was her favorite. You looked at him, his eyes not leaving you and the little girl in your arms. You saw something unfamiliar in his eyes before he extended his own arms to pick up the little girl.  

"gowsty!" she smiled at him. 

"hey little baby princess." he cooed. 

Yes. he did. And it made you melt on the spot. Melissa grinned and the rest of the room were absolutely shocked. It took one glance from ghost for them to look away. You rolled your eyes. You invited Melissa to come sit on the couch with everyone as ghost and Amy followed. She decided to sit on his lap and not move from there, playing with his skeleton gloves. 

"Boys, this is Melissa gallegos. She's my friend and the mother of this sweetheart, Amy." You cooed as well, softly brushing a strand of hair out of her face, making her giggle. Simon looked like he wanted to devour you for a split second. 

"this is Soap" you introduced. 

The little went into a giggle of laughter, making everyone melt in the room. 

"soap!" she repeated. 

The man in question blushed a bit, waving at her. 

"why you'calld soap?" she asked. 

The room temperature suddenly changed but Ghost was quick to move. 

"because he loves washing his hair." he lied. 

The truth was not something for her little ears. Soap looked a bit hurt but the rest laughed. 

"this, is Gas. because... because that's his name." Ghost said, taking the lead. 

"This.." 

For a second you were worried about her reaction towards Konig. He stood in the room a bit further away. He was trying to hide his big frame, probably not to scare the child but was failing. 

"this is Konig. He's... a friend." Ghost tried. It was clumsy. He was trying to find a way to make her accept the big guy. 

"Why he sow bwig?" she asked. 

"Amy..." Melissa started. 

"Because he's half giant." Ghost said, making everyone chuckle and Konig rubbed the back of his head. 

"he has supew powers?" she asked, not letting Konig out of her sight. 

"yes." he asked. 

"wat?" she asked.

"he gives the best hugs! and when you're in his arms you're super tall!" Soap said. 

She giggled. 

"thas not a supew power!" 

"ah! you should try!" he winked at her. 

She thought for a minute before extending her arms towards him, leaving you in a bit of shock. This little girl would never cease to amaze you. Konig had frozen on the spot. 

"Konig. Come here." Ghost ordered. 

You were going to protest, telling him not to force him if he was uncomfortable, but Konig moved forwards very slowly. Finally in front of Ghost and Amy, he picked her up very slowly as if she was made of glass. The little girl didn't say anything while looking around. 

"im tawler than everwyone!" she claimed happily, making everyone laugh. 

Konig looked relieved, until she looked into his eyes through the mask. She touched it a bit. 

"ah ah Amy. We talked about this." Melissa warned. 

"imno gonna take it off!" she said, looking offended.

It made you smile. As she turned back to the man. 

"you eyes awe pwetty. They blue" she said, making the monster of a man melt on the spot. 

She hugged him before asking to go back to ghost's lap. Konig was very flustered but walked back next to soap to sit on another couch. 

"This is Captain price. Or as Y/N calls him, dad." 

You gasped, looking at Ghost horrified. Everyone laughed. Amy was deep in thoughts. Before jumping from Ghost lap and running to price 

"gwandpaw!" 

Now Melissa looked horrified. It clicked so fast in your mind. How Melissa called you her sister and Amy's aunt. The very clever girl added 1+1 and decided that if you were her aunt and Price was your dad, obviously he was her grandfather. 

Price had looked taken aback but gladly held her in his arms. 

Ghost sulked a bit, suddenly not being the center of attention of the little girl. You left the boys being completely amazed by the little girl as you turned to melissa. 

"How are you? Laswell told me what happened. I was in the room when she was talking to Hopkins." she looked worriedly at you. 

"I'm fine, don't worry. Not my first rodeo, we both know that." you said, grabbing her hand in yours. 

"I was so damn worried. I couldn't handle it, and Amy surely wouldn't." she said. 

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry alright? I have a whole team of bodyguards constantly watching over me now" you said in a joking tone looking at the boys behind you. 

Amy was standing on top of the table, the men on their knees or crouching around it. 

"though your daughter seems to be their master. She has a talent of bringing these terrifying men to their knees.'' You laughed with melissa. 

You both watched as Amy took turns, touching soap's mohawk, price's hat, gas's hat, Ghost mask and konig's too. 

"Stay for dinner, the boys will be thrilled." You said. 

And they were. They were absolutely thrilled. You had made dinner with Melissa while they had played with Amy's legos that Ghost had bought for her the last time. Now you all sat at table dining, talking happily. Amy was so fascinated by the way Konig ate underneath his mask that she'd forget to eat what was in her mouth. Konig had felt very embarrassed under her scrutiny and had avoided eye contact. 

You had stopped for a second, looking at the table you sat at. You felt grateful. For all of these people. 

Once dinner was over, the boys had cleaned up the table, except ghost who was trapped by a little girl in his arms. She was starting to get sleepy. Ghost had glanced at you as you sent a wink his way, making him shake his head. 

"what's happening between you and the liteutenant?" 

Melissa's voice made you slightly jump. 

"hum... well... we're... together." you spoke. 

You tried not to blush but she gasped, a smirk on her face afterwards. 

"you go girl! daaaamnn." she said. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"so it's serious huh?" she asked

"yeah... I think it is... he trusts me enough to show me his face." 

She looked touched, holding you in her arms. 

"I'm so happy for you. Really. You deserve it." 

You smiled, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You blinked them away. 

"Thank you Melissa. I'm so happy you're in my life too." 

She smiled at you before turning back to ghost. The little girl had fallen asleep in his arms as he kept pacing around to rock her softly. You noticed that the boys had lowered the volume of their voices too, as Ghost eyed them like a hawk at every decibel too high for his taste. 

"He'd be a great dad." Melissa teased. 

"We're far from that. Please don't start." You begged. 

You walked towards him. 

"Thank you lieutenant. She really adores you." she said to him. 

"No problem." he nodded. 

"I think we should go home." she said, glancing at you and then at the sleeping girl. 

"Alright, we'll walk you to the car." you offered, Ghost clearly not wanting to wake up the little girl, agreed. 

Everyone bid their goodbyes in a hushed tone under Ghost's gaze. You walked Melissa to the car, ghost had dropped the little girl, her car seat buckling her up. 

"Thank you lieutenant." she smiled. 

You stood next to him as Melissa looked at you both. 

"Thank you for taking care of her lieutenant". she said. 

You blushed heavily, looking down to hide your face. 

"The best mission I've chosen." he answered back. 

You bit your lip looking up at him as he glanced down back at you. Melissa got into her car and left,  leaving you both at the entrance of the house.

"You're gonna catch a cold. let's go back inside." he said, his hand meeting your lower back.

"Simon." you called. 

He looked at you, waiting. 

"Thank you. for taking care of me." 

"No. Thank you. For holding on to me. To my... fucked up mind and scarred body." 

Your eyes faltered, his words hurting you in a way you didn't think was possible. You grabbed his face in between your hands, his masked face dropping to touch your forehead with his. 

"You're everything Simon. you. Ghost. the lieutenant. all of you." you comforted him. 

He hugged you tighter. 

"fuck.." he cursed under his breath. 

A breeze passed by, soothing the incredible heat in your body. 

"come on... let's head back." 

You nodded, stepping inside with him. 

One thing had been absolutely sure. The boys loved playing games. When they weren't training or at the base and they were bored at home, they'd always want to play a board game or a game of cards. And right now. The game of cards was improvised. The evening had rolled in, you had been working in your room, and the boys were bored. It had begun as a simple game, Soap had ordered pizzas, and you sat around the large table in the living room. But as time passed, those menaces had decided to add some dares to the game. If you'd lose, you'd have to do something. Price had been skeptical, Ghost too, especially because he was worried about what the boys could make you do just to taunt him.

After the first round, where, much to Soap's dismay, he had lost, he was forced to play with handcuffs for the next 5 rounds. Watching him struggle during round 2 made Price laugh way too much, so he remained for the game. Obviously he very quickly regretted his choice.

Gaz had brought some Rhum, and even if it remained very calm, alcohol loosened minds and… tongues. You were all a bit tipsy. And the dares were beginning to be slightly hotter than they should be. Konig was shirtless… the poor man was extremely embarrassed. Gaz and Soap made out, a little predicament created by you. Unfortunately that had horribly backfired. You had to call Laswell and ask her if Price could legally adopt you. She was extremely confused but had said yes. Price added that he'd keep it in mind. 

To counter that you had prepared a little cocktail for the next looser, Soap. You made sure it was incredibly spicy. He had died, his soul leaving his body for a minute. Ghost seemed to be a very good player, managing to lose twice. He had to draw two little blush points on his mask with lipstick. He looked extremely cute. The second time he had to let the boys draw something on his arms with a sharpie. He had rolled his eyes.  After that he had escaped all shenanigans except one, he also had to take off his shirt. For some reason these men loved seeing each other half naked. 

Price had tapped out, opting for going home before he lost all credibility as a captain. Konig had also begged to be let go, you had obviously let the poor man leave, remembering him he didn't need permission, and shouldn't listen to the boys. Now, as the four of you remained. The dares become completely ridiculous. Now Gaz was handcuffed to Soap. They had a wife and husband written on their foreheads with a sharpie. You had cringed, you knew he'd be hard to clean up. 

The tapping point was you having to… lick your way from Ghost's clothed mouth to the aim of his pants, under the careful gaze of the two men. You were blushing hard. Ghost's eyes were fixated on you, his breath had quickened. His hand had reached your hair, tightening there when you passed over his abs. 

You had tried your best to hide your blush when you stood up. You could feel Simon's eyes following your every movement. When soap had tried to comment something along the lines of 'I'm jealous I want a bunny too', he had received a smack behind the head as a warning. The last round had hit, everyone was tired as 3 am was slowly approaching. To everyone's surprise, Ghost lost. Soap and Gaz had run to you, and you were now trying to find the perfect dare to conclude the game. 

Soap finally jumped. 

"I know! You have to wear a dog collar and a leash all day for Y/N!" 

You had gasped and blinked slowly, trying to process what he had said. You looked at Ghost, he seemed to think about it. 

"Simon…" you called. 

"Ok." 

Did he… agree?! You were unsure if it was the alcohol or something else. 

"Nice!" Gas said. 

You were extremely confused… and slightly excited. The sight might be something worth seeing. 

You had called it a night, kissing Simon goodnight and hopping into bed. The liquor and the tiredness made your head buzz as you closed your eyes. 

The next morning you had woken up rather begrudgingly. You needed a coffee. Or tea. You had thrown one of Simon's hoodies on and some leggings before heading down stairs. The house was noisier than usual for this hour. You had walked into the living room, greeting everyone. Soap and gas had a grin on their face. Ghost had walked to you, lifting up his mask to kiss you deeply. 

This was the best way to wake up. Truly. 

"Good morning" you mumbled in a sleepy voice. 

"Good morning bunny." He growled. 

You were taken aback from his tone. What was going on this morning? 

"Breakfast is ready, come on!" Soap called. 

You had sat at the table and eaten breakfast with everyone until Price had walked in, a bag in hand.

"Good morning everyone!" He greeted. 

The boys were quick to their feet as ghost sighed, getting up as well. He extended his hand to you, making you get up and step to him. He dropped your hand to reach his neck with both hands, taking his dog tags and transferring them to your neck. You stumbled on your words looking at him. You felt incredibly honored and thrilled and… owned.

"S-simon… I…." 

"Fuck. You're gonna have to let me take a picture of you like that." He talked in a hushed tone to you. 

He didn't leave any room for an answer as he grabbed your head and made you walk with him to the others. 

"I have no idea why you asked me to pick this up, but I have a feeling it has something to do with last night's game." Price said as he dropped the bag on one of the couches and grabbed the objects inside. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him take out a dog collar and a leash, both black. 

"Oh my god…" you let out. 

"Yes!! Captain you are the best!" Soap almost yelled. 

Gas was just as excited as him. 

"Alright, so who has to wear this?" He asked, turning to soap and then gas. 

When they both turned towards ghost, who stood next to you, arms crossed, Price froze for a second. 

"Really?" He asked with his signature smile. 

You were unable to process what was happening as Soap took the object and ran to the man next to you. He stopped when he saw the dark gaze of his lieutenant. 

"Sergeant, if you try to put it around my neck I will break your hands." He warned. 

Soap smirked but nodded before handing you the collar and leash. 

"Wait, WHAT." You cried out.

You looked at the black leather collar. It had a silver tag shaped like a skull. You turned it to see Riley written behind. They had made it engraved. The leash was a mix of black leather and chain. It was pretty basic. You were taken out of your thoughts as you saw Simon bend down next to you, now eye to eye level. 

"Simon, really?" You asked. 

"I am a man of my word." He said. 

You shook your head. This… was ridiculous. The rest of the team looked at you expectedly. You sighed, unbuckling the damn thing before very slowly approaching it to his neck. The eye contact was intense as you secured it around his neck, and the tension was breakable as you hooked the leash on it. 

"Bloody hell. You're all insane." Price let out, finally breaking the tension. 

He straightened up as you still held the leash in your hand. 

"There! Now you have scary dog privileges!" Soap joked. 

"This is a sight LT." Gas added. 

"When did this happen?" Konig asked, poor man confused. 

You couldn't believe this. 

Ok. Alright. It was a matter of 24h. It might be fun after all. 

You had continued about your day, unleashing Ghost. Soap and gas had forced you to keep the leash on you so you could put it back whenever needed. They were having way too much fun with this. You had your laptop on your lap as you worked through some things on the couch, Simon not too far. You had heard some commotions behind you in the kitchen. 

"Y/N! Get your dog!" 

You smirked.

"It don't bite." You said matter of factly. 

"Yes IT DO!" Soap threw back. 

You had continued to work without paying attention to them. During the day you had found yourself often playing with the tags around your neck, letting your fingers trace the letters on it. Mindlessly bringing it to your lips when you were lost in thoughts. You had only noticed it when soap had thrown a comment about it. 

"Y/N." 

"Hmm?" 

"You don't have to kiss that, the real thing is right here." 

You had blinked looking at him and then at Ghost. You felt a rush of adrenaline as you saw him, hunched over the kitchen counter both hands on it, gazing at you through his lashes like he wanted to pounce on you. 

Soap had immediately excused himself and you had let the tags fall back to your chest. 

"S-sorry…" you apologized. 

He had suddenly realized his posture as you spoke, straightening himself and cleared his throat. 

"No problem." 

He had quickly walked out, the tag on his collar clicking, leaving you confused. 

The interaction had remained in your mind. He had seemed a bit distant afterwards. You had gone out for a drink, soap and gas reminding you that you had to keep him on a leash. You had been horrified at the thought but Ghost had grabbed the end of the leash and hooked it in his collar. 

It had been funny to see all the soldiers at the bar avoiding all eye contact towards your table. The sheer fear the man next to you created in them was astounding. And yet he was next to you, as your hand held onto the leather leash connected to his dog collar. He had made sure to reach to your neck and take out the dog tags so everyone could see it. 

"Damn he possessive." Gas had joked, being completely ignored by his lieutenant.

And he was. You had gotten up to order another drink at the bar. 

"What can I get you ?" The bartender asked smiling at you. 

"Hum can I get a mojito, with strawberry syrup?" You asked tentatively. 

"Oh! Sure, Nice!" He agreed with a wink. 

When you had walked back to the table with your drink, Simon had wrapped his arms around your waist and not let go for the rest of the night. 

You felt a bit uneasy because you could clearly see his mood had changed. You had gotten home around midnight and everyone had gone to bed. The boys had finally let Ghost alone with the collar, though he was still wearing it. You had brought him into your bedroom to try and talk it out. 

"Y/N, I'm fine, come one hop into bed." He had tried. 

You were still holding the leash and you straightened it, applying only a bit of pressure. 

"Simon." 

His gaze had darkened. 

"Tell me." 

"Your time is up bunny. The leash is off now." He warned.

You furrowed your brows in challenge, applying even more pressure in the leash. He growled. 

"Bunny. Let. Go." He warned again. 

"Then tell me." You confronted again. 

He reached your hand, bringing you to his chest. You yelped. His hand was holding your jaw softly. 

"You had fun having me on a leash all day?" 

His special dark tone was back. The one that sent shivers down your spine and made you feel like he was a predator hunting his prey. 

"Well, everyone knew who you belonged to." You teased. 

He chuckled darkly. 

"Yeah. Same with my tags around your pretty neck." He made you spin around, now making you look into the mirror on the wall. His hand traveled from your stomach to your chest where the tags dangled. Your breath hitched as his hand hovered over your breast. 

"Look at you. Mine. So fucking pretty." He growled in your ear. 

"You know what. You're such a pretty sight to see. Let's immortalize this pretty sight." 

You frowned. 

"W-what?" You asked. 

He took his phone out with his other hand, turning it on and opening his camera. 

"Grab the leash." He ordered.

You obeyed, holding the leash over your shoulder. He placed his hand over your throat, not squeezing but holding you in place. He aimed the lense towards the mirror, taking both of you into view. 

"Good girl…" he praised, making you close your eyes and tilt your head back. 

He had taken a picture at that exact moment.  

"So pretty fuck. I wanted to punch that guy at the bar you know." 

You finally understood. 

"Simon… his wink was just playful… it-" 

"No… not his wink. The way he eyed your ass when you walked away from him. That. That made me want to rip his head off." 

Oh. You hadn't noticed that. He was jealous. God that man was possessive. 

He closed his eyes for a little second. 

"Simon. I'm yours." You reminded him. 

He opened his eyes, planting them into yours in the mirror. He visibly relaxed. 

"My bunny." 

"My wolf." You teased. 

He laughed a bit, relieved. 

"That's new." 

You turned around hugging him. He took off his mask, letting it drop to bed behind you. He dropped a kiss on top of your head. 

"I'm sorry… "

"Why?" You questioned.

"I… sometimes lose myself. You have to tell me if I scare you an-" 

"No!" 

You looked at him as he frowned. 

"I'm not scared Simon. Please don't think that. You never hurt me. And I trust you." 

He took a moment before nodding. 

"Come on, bed time." 

You whined. 

"Sleep with me tonight." You asked. 

"Bunny… not tonight. I got to wake up early tomorrow, the team has to go to base." 

"A mission ?" 

"Something like that. I'll tell you more after I get info." 

You nodded. 

You had slipped into pj's in your bathroom before slipping into bed. He had stayed just to be able to tuck you into bed. He turned around heading to leave before you stopped him. 

"Simon…" 

"Yes baby?"

"Can you send me that picture…" you blushed. 

"Of course bunny." 

Once he was out you smiled to yourself. He was really possessive over you. You knew there was a part of him that felt scared that thought you might regret this relationship. That he was not good for you. You wanted to prove him wrong. Your phone buzzed. 

You picked it up to see the notification. Simon had sent the picture. Fuck was it good. You made sure to keep it for yourself. He had added a little treat as a second notification rang. He was shirtless, the collar still on as he held the leash in one hand. The camera was tilted upwards as the looked straight into it. Fuck. You didn't take him for the kind of man to send thirst traps to his girl. But you were glad he was. 

You bit your lip, thinking about your next move. You were slightly embarrassed but also somehow excited. You undressed yourself before laying back down in bed. You made sure to position the dog tags in between your breasts with his name visible. You bit your lip. You held the phone up, making sure the flash was on and you took the picture making sure to push your breast together. You edited the photo making sure to add little skulls over your nipples.

You made sure to check the picture before sending it as fast as possible with a small good night. 

You bit your lip. You wondered if you were going to get an answer. Two minutes passed so you thought he wouldn't. But then a notification came on. 

You smiled to yourself. Finally drifting off to sleep. The next morning you woke up to an empty house. It felt oddly quiet. You took your time eating breakfast and resting. Around lunch time you were still alone. You knew the team had to go to the base for something related to a mission. You wondered when they would come back. Time passed by and you got lost for a little moment in your work. 

When late afternoon rolled in, you decided that perhaps a warm bath would be perfect. You could read a book or something. You stood from the couch when suddenly you heard the front door open and a lot of voices half yelling at each other. You frowned, watching the team stumble over each other. 

"hey hey hey... guys, what's going on?" 

"hey Y/N!" soap called in a very soft voice making you expect the worst. 

"so hum... we got something here, can you take a look?" gas asked. 

"It's a bit urgent, sweetheart." price added in a serious tone. 

You walked over to the table where the boys gathered, putting down a laptop on the table. you sat down in front of anxious looks. 

"Will any of you tell me what's going on? By the way, where's Ghost?" you frowned, opening the laptop and turning it on as you looked around. 

"Hmm..." Konig tried. 

"well..." Soap continued. 

You immediately turned to Price at their hesitation. 

"Please tell me what's going on." 

He sighed before sitting next to you.

"Darkends is dead. We are very close to catching the drug lord. We've been put on this mission and we were called to brief everyone and check some seized gear. one of the cases was... trapped." 

You felt your heartbeat quicken. no... wait. 

"Simon?" you asked.

"he was the one who opened it." 

You closed your eyes letting out a shaky breath. 

"Hey, he's fine, he's fine. He was in contact with a powder, a drug. He's going to be alright" 

You sighed with relief. 

"He's gone upstairs to his room, but we need to know what kind of drug it is. It was quite a dose and we need to know the effects. Can you do that? " 

"Absolutely. I'm on it." 

You turned to the screen, you absolutely needed to find what it was. 

For over an hour, after you managed to decrypt the computer, you finally had found something interesting. The boys were pacing around and kept watching you. 

Finally you found something interesting, a video about the effects of the drug. 

"guys i got it!" you called. 

They rushed to your side and finally you opened the video. 

The silence was loud. But nothing louder than the sounds coming from the laptop. You blushed heavily as Soap laughed and Gas cursed. The noise kept repeating itself, making it obvious as to what the drug was. 

"ah! fuck me!" 

It was a sex drug. 

--------------------------

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[theshireisburning-so-mordoritis]

TELL ME YOU THINK ABOUT ME TOO

Part of the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three

Steven Grant x F!Reader (hints of Marc Spector x F!Reader) 18+. 9K. Friends to lovers with a shit ton of pining. Female masturbation. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected shower sex. Steven being all soft and needy but also a little feral.

Prompt: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

Requested by: @acrossthesestars , I am so sorry for how long this has taken me and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

Their relationship was an odd thing Steven thought. Chaotic in the kind of way that not many would understand. 

God, he just barely understood it himself after all.

It's him and it's Marc and it's you, all entwined, your lives like singular threads that were blown together and now lay impossibly tangled. Knotted so tightly that even if someone was to try and shear them apart, there would still be remnants of the others embedded in the one they tried to pull loose. 

And then it went beyond that. 

There were the separate tanglements that branched from the heart of the whole one. Himself and Marc. Marc and you. You and him. 

He knew that there were differences - that there was something more between you and Marc. Another level to the relationship that Steven yearned for but felt would be pushing his luck to try and approach with you after you had already given him so much. 

When he wasn't in control he sometimes saw fragments of it, glimpses that made him flush and his chest tighten, desire clashing with the jealousy that sat like an uncomfortable weight in the back of his throat. He saw you through the thinning glass between the alters, saw your lips part around a throaty moan that hit him like a train, the slopes of your bare skin, sweat slick and gleaming, as your back bowed in pleasure.

He was always quick to turn away before he saw too much, squeezing his eyes shut to give you your privacy and to chastise himself for those feelings that were steadily slipping further out of his already shaky control. 

He was arguing against himself, the part of him that craved more than he should, stern in the reasoning that he should be grateful to have you in any capacity. To have your friendship and your care, your protectiveness over him and the way your eyes glowed with interest, gaze fixed on him and smile soft, warm and encouraging, no matter what subject he chose to ramble on and on at you about. 

And if that wasn’t enough to make him hold his tongue then the insecurities that clung to his bones and his insides - his poor lovesick heart - in strings of black tar, were certainly more than willing to do the trick.

Because why would you want him like that when you've already got someone like Marc? Someone so clearly your equal. 

Would you be offended by the idea of him as a partner - of being with both of them? 

What if he ruined things entirely - made things weird and you leave? Plunging your hand in that mess of threads and ripping yours away, splitting fibres that burrowed beneath his skin and left him forever haunted by the ghost of you. 

It didn’t matter that Marc had tried to tell him otherwise, gave Steven as many hints as he could without revealing the extent of your feelings because that was your business and not his place. His voice growing exasperated the longer that Steven refused to do anything about it. 

"Do you really think she would put up with all of this, if she didn't love both of us?"

Yes.

No. 

Bloody hell, he didn't know. 

It’s a question he didn't have an answer to and so he chose to ignore it completely. 

Buried it alongside the too fast flutter of his pulse beneath his skin when you drifted close, when your hand was threading through the mess of his curls. Gentle fingers tilting his jaw, stroking the fragile skin beneath his eyes as you checked for signs that he wasn’t sleeping as well as you’d like before you mumbled out a happy sounding noise, pleased when you found none.

He swallowed it back and pretended it didn't burn all the way down. Like the thought didn’t feel like it would burst him to flames the same way it did when he woke to find you wound around his body, legs tangled with his and your breath, soft and warm, against his neck. 

The only reaction you gave when realising you had fallen asleep with Marc and woken with Steven, being the shy smile that crept across your lips as you gazed up at him, arms making no move to let him go, to push him away and create distance. 

He didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. 

He was in over his head.

** 

It was after a fight that it happened. 

They returned to the quiet of their hotel room, heads down and bodies tucked in on themselves as they passed through the plain reception and the corridors with their aged, peeling wallpaper until there was the relief of the door clicking shut behind them. 

They were stained with the after effects of their violence. Blood splattered jaws and rust beneath their nails, the collar of Steven’s sweater torn wide, slit at the abdomen from where he was stabbed before he’d remembered to summon the suit and when he looked at you, there were already bruises blooming. Creeping across your skin - the swell of your cheek - before his very eyes, muddied shades of navy and lavender that made him wince and his hands twitch. 

You smiled when you caught it, all easy charm, a sweet, placating thing that softened the sharp edges that still clung to your features after a mission. “I’m fine Steven.” You told him gently. “Nothing a shower and some bandages won’t fix anyway. 

He nodded, a little unsure as always, trying to offer a simple smile back because Steven’s learned it’s best not to hover when it comes to you. To treat you like you were made of glass just because you were something infinitely precious to them. That you could easily grow frustrated at the way Marc loomed like a pissed off drill sergeant and Steven fretted like a frantic, mother hen when they saw you hurt all because you lacked an ancient god fused to your bones and hooked in the meat of your soul. 

Instead he slipped into the bathroom and cleaned away the blood that itched at his own skin, his stomach only faintly twisting this time as he watched it swirl pink in the water before slipping down the drain. 

He was getting better at it, he realised belatedly. It didn’t feel like he’d lose whatever food he had managed to get down that day anymore when he was faced with the evidence of what he had done, like his stomach wanted to turn itself inside out and he needed you to scrape the sweat-damp droop of his curls away from his clammy forehead. Mouthing soothing sounds into his shoulder as he groaned and coughed up his guts. 

Once he was dressed in something that didn’t look like it’s seen the inside of a shredder he went out again. 

It was routine by now. Him or Marc would go in search of food - flaky pastries dusted with cinnamon or soaked in syrup. Steaming pasta in rich, silky sauce with thick slices of buttery garlic bread. Tacos. Gyoza. Earl grey cake from the bakery you passed on your way into town. 

Anything you asked for because it was the only way you ever really let them take care of you, only huffing slightly when they handed you the painkillers that you absolutely always argued you didn’t need if they didn’t bribe you first. 

And by the time they typically got back you would already be lounging in the bed. Hair slightly damp from the shower, wounds neatly bandaged, and looking far too warm and soft than Steven’s poor heart could handle, sunk into the plethora of mismatched pillows. 

It always made his heart flutter in his chest to come back to you waiting, to step into the room and find your eyes shining over at him, your hands already outstretched, making grabbing motions that had him chuckling as you beckoned him towards you with the food. Head tilting in the direction of the box tv as you teased him with a grin. “It’s about time, there’s an old crime documentary about to start, I thought we could watch whilst we eat.” 

Which is why it struck him as odd when he returned and there was no sign of you. The bed still neatly made. The blank screen of the tv staring back at him, projecting nothing but his own reflection, when his gaze flicked to it. 

He relaxed when he registered the faint sound of running water - the repetitive pattering of spray hitting the tiles. Shook his head at how his body had immediately drawn tight with anxiety all because you weren’t where he had expected you to be. The breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding blowing past his lips in a rushed exhale at the smell of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, comforting in a way he couldn’t explain, seeping beneath the bathroom door. 

Everything’s fine. She’s fine. You were just worrying over nothing.

But then he heard it. 

His name. 

Or at least, he thought he did. There was a few beats of silence when he stopped, quietly placing the bag of food onto the side as he strained to listen. Nothing. 

It was maybe his imagination, he thought. 

Maybe you had been mumbling to yourself, singing beneath your breath like he knew you liked to do when you thought no one could hear. He went back to sorting the food with another shake of his head, a mutter to himself that he was growing far too paranoid as he pulled out the containers and the plastic utensils before reaching over to the little tv to find something you might be interested in watching when you eventually did come out.  

And then he definitely heard it again. 

A touch louder, clearer that time than the last, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sound. It was a pained thing - a low moan that cut to a whimper and Steven almost completely lost his head. 

Were you hurt? Had he left when you needed him? What if you’re trying to hide the seriousness of one of your wounds, bleeding out in there because of your stubborn refusal to worry him?

He called to you once. A second time that was steeped in a dizzying panic, and when there was no response again all thought went out the window. He was lunging for the door to the bathroom, sweat-damp hand fumbling with the handle before he nearly wrenched the damn thing off despite Marc’s suspiciously calm voice in his head telling him ‘Steven wait..it’s not what you think-’ 

He almost snarled at that, bristling in disbelief that Marc could be so unbothered when Steven’s fear had snapped to life in an instant to clutch him by the throat. There was an anger he wasn’t quite used to rushing through his chest, burning vicious and ugly, charring his bones as he spat back at the other man, “If you think I’m going to ignore the fact that she’s seriously hurt then you’re fucking mental, what is wrong with you!” 

Marc didn't respond, at least not with words - there was a weary sigh that seemed to say ‘suit yourself’ and then silence. Good. 

He refused to pay him mind, to focus on anything else other than you, getting you the help you needed, and when he finally flung the door open, the noise of it hitting the wall almost deafening in the silence of that tiny room, everything suddenly stumbled to a halt as what he’d just walked in on seared itself upon his brain. Burning bright behind his eyelids when he slammed them shut, a hand slapped over them for good measure.

Because you were all bare, steam-slick skin. Glittering with the droplets of water that caught the light and shone as they trailed down your body in a way that made the image of him catching each one with his tongue flash across his mind, unbidden, entrancing him until his gaze had followed a shimmering path to where he'd discovered the hand buried between trembling thighs. Your fingers that halted their quick, jerking movements as your pretty features morphed from pleasure to stunned surprise. 

“Oh god -  bollocks - I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-"

He was rambling. Stammering on his words like his tongue was too thick for his mouth, choking on the billows of steam he was breathing in as his face flushed with the sickening kind of heat that came with pure mortification and good fucking god, what the hell was he doing still standing there? 

“I’m sorry,” he continued, rooted in place despite every fibre of his being telling him to bolt. It burst out of him almost, jumbled and tumbling, all frantic to make you understand. “My name- I heard you say my name and I thought… it sounded like you were hurt and I know you like to handle your injuries alone but it sounded bad and I thought you could be bleeding out or dying and I just couldn’t–”

You were wrapping gentle fingers around his wrists before he could talk himself breathless, into an early grave with the way his pulse was hammering beneath flushed skin. Your voice fell even softer, barely rising over the sound of the water that was still pelting against the tiles, as you told him, “Steven, calm down. Look at me, it’s okay.” 

He wanted to resist, unwilling to face the weight of your disappointment, the shame that would only double tenfold when that harsh glare of yours undoubtedly pinned him with it, but he found himself compelled by a featherlight touch at his jaw, the arc of cheek, sweeping the damp curls from his eyes just as they fluttered open. 

Steven gulped as his stare settled on you, closer than he'd expected you to be, now wrapped up in a thread-bare towel that hid only enough skin for you to be considered decent but had him sending a prayer of thanks for to any god that would listen anyway. He didn’t think he’d survive it otherwise.

Not with the way you were actually looking at him. Touching him. 

He was already having trouble breathing properly, his stomach still flipping from the memory of you, your closeness to him now when your soft moans were still echoing around in his head. 

Steven, Steven, Steven. 

His heart had yet to return to its normal pace and as it stuttered and beat itself violently against the cage of his ribs, he wondered if it was possible to die from something like this. From the desire and longing trapped and blistering beneath his skin, a wicked hot thing that was trying to burn him from the inside out.

 It certainly felt like he could. 

Your expression grew anxious whilst you simply watched one another, gaze troubled and brow knit into a soft frown. Your lip drawn between your teeth in a way that made him have to swallow down the urge gently tug it free with his thumb, to soothe away the rawness with soft touches. An even softer kiss. 

Gods, he was pathetic. 

Even when he was expecting you to be angry at him, for that gentle calmness to drop any second to reveal disgust, he still couldn’t stop himself from thinking about touching you, kissing you. Loving on you. He wanted to shake himself, to rub away the ache in his chest that worsened as your lips parted and he braced himself for you to tell him you couldn’t be around him after this. 

“It’s not you who should be apologising, Steven.” You told him instead, voice tinged with guilt, a hint of embarrassment. Nervous in a way he’d never seen before. And when your eyes dropped briefly to where your hands were still cradling his own you missed the way he blinked at you in stunned confusion. 

“I shouldn’t have been doing that - thinking about you like that - definitely not when you could hear…shit- I’m so fucking sorry you heard it and saw what you did. I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me and you need a break or something, fuck - is that something you would want? Do you want me to go?” 

Steven didn’t even know what to say. His expression had morphed into something utterly dumbfounded. His brain screeching to a halt at your apology - your confession? 

It was spinning around inside his skull like a carousel, all bright flashing light and the swelling tinkling of fairytale music. Because surely it couldn’t be real right? He’d not really heard what he thought he had, he’d not heard you admitting that you think about him.

Maybe he’d been knocked out during the fight and this was a dream? He almost found it easier to believe.

Except for the fact that in his dreams he didn’t have Marc’s voice in his head - seething with frustration. He wasn’t being yelled at to say something. Say anything. He wasn’t getting stressed out by the irate stream of demands mixing with his own rapidly firing thoughts until they all muddled into something that felt an awful lot like the oncoming of a migraine. 

He wanted to snap at Marc to be quiet for just five bloody seconds but then he was raising his voice again - more worried this time - and it cut crystal clear through the rest of the noise. Sharp enough for Steven to finally understand what the other man had been desperately trying to snap his attention to. 

‘Jesus fucking christ Steven, she’s going to leave! She thinks you don’t want her - SAY SOMETHING.”

And Marc was right. You had drawn away from him, dropped your hands from his cheeks and tucked them into your sides, arms crossed over your chest like you were shielding the vulnerable parts of yourself you’d only just worked up the courage to expose. 

Curling into yourself in the face of what you perceived as rejection. 

He watched in a throat-tight panic as you nodded solemnly and made to squeeze past him, reaching for the door that had swung back closed behind him from the force with which he had thrown it open. 

It was the brush of you against him that startled him back to life - a smack of reality cracking across his bewildered face that told him you were about to walk out of that door, out of their shitty hotel room and straight out his life if he didn’t stop you. 

Steven was whirling around before his mind could even register having told his legs to move. He caught at your wrist with a shaky hand , the touch of it feverish against your skin that had rapidly cooled once outside the heat of the shower - goosebumps rising beneath his fingertips despite the balmy air that swirled around them. 

You turned, fingers still grazing the door handle, and looked at him, wide eyed and apprehensive, unwillingly hopeful, and it was enough to make the muscles in his throat unlock. Words bubbling up and past his lips before he could even consider if they were the right ones. 

“Did you mean it?” He rasped. “ You think of me when you touch yourself?” 

There was silence for a second, maybe two, and by the way you sucked in a breath - lips parting as you stared at him - he suspected the question had been the last thing you expected to be asked. 

It was agony to stand there and wait and Steven tried his best not to let it show, tried not to breathe because every inhale was drenched in you. 

The scent of your shampoo and your body wash and your breath fanning across his lips when he subconsciously leaned closer. The weight of his heart that wasn’t really his anymore, hadn’t been since he met you, sat on his tongue. Ready to topple along with the desperate plea he was fighting to keep clamped behind his teeth. 

Please. Please tell me you think about me too - that you want me just as much as I want you.

And then, “I did,” you whispered, soft and hushed like you were worried if you spoke any louder it would ruin whatever was happening between you, “I do.” 

He surged forward and kissed you then. Both of you colliding with the door with the force of it, his lips crashing against yours like the world would spin off its axis if he didn’t have his mouth on you. It was a little clumsy but it still made your breath catch in your throat, made your body melt into his and your hands fly to clutch at the slopes of his shoulders as your surprise dissolved into something hungrier, the sensation of his mouth moving over yours dragging you under. 

It wasn’t a sweet, soft thing like Steven had always imagined kissing you would go, all romantic like pretty sunsets and doves flying, a choir singing in the background as he tenderly cradled your cheeks in his hands. 

It was tongue and teeth, months of repressed yearning bursting free and swallowing him whole, demanding that he devoured in turn. Making everything a little messy, touched with desperation. Frantic. 

He let you part his lips, let you flick your tongue, quick and dirty, against his own and lick the needy groan from his mouth that followed until he was breathless and his knees threatened to buckle. A hand dropping to your waist to palm at the curve of it, fisting tight at the cotton towel, and the other sliding from your cheek to grasp a handful of the hair at the back of your head. Both meant to keep you locked to him just as much as it was supposed to keep him grounded. 

Steven felt greedy with it, braver than he’d ever been with every little moan that slipped from your lips to his for him to swallow down and when you finally pulled back an inch gasping for breath, lips parted and expression looking entirely kiss-drunk, he felt like he’d found heaven. 

His field of reeds, in the way your eyes were shining.

The way your fingers trailed up his neck and tangled in his curls to keep him from straying too far.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, voice lovesick and bleeding awe, painting your mouth with a sparkling grin as he pressed each word to your lips when you tugged him back down to kiss him again.  “More beautiful than anyone or anything I’ve ever seen.” 

You sighed into him, the hand in his hair tilting his head so you could kiss him deeper, a little more demanding before your lips slipped to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw, sliding down his throat to suck a bruise at the skin before dropping a sweet kiss over the mark that made his hips buck against you. 

It had a groan tearing through Steven’s chest when you pressed back, all silky, steam-damp skin and barely any material between you that suddenly felt that much less with the way it was clinging to you both. 

“Steven…please.” You breathed.

And gods, you sounded just as needy as he felt. 

So he hitched your leg high up at his waist and rolled his hips a little harder, a little more deliberate, drawing back just enough that he could watch how your lashes fluttered and your mouth dropped open, trying his best to take note of the exact angle and pressure that made you keen so he could do it over and over again. 

He could feel how wet you were, the bare heat of you soaking into his jeans, pressed tightly against where he was achingly hard beneath the denim and Steven felt himself twitch at every gorgeous sound that poured past your lips -  at the way you had snuck you hand between your two bodies without him noticing to palm at the thick outline of his cock. 

It made his jaw go slack from the pressure, brain fuzzy from the bolt of pleasure that skitted down his spine when you squeezed him just right and then he was curling himself over you, burying you into the door and mouthing sloppy kisses and obscene praise into the skin of your neck whilst he rocked his hips. 

He forced himself to bite back a whine when you pushed him back an inch, extracting yourself from his grasp so you could stand before him properly, eyes glossy and a touch wild, all panting breaths as your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt and tugged. 

“Need to feel more of you.”

And then you were yanking it over his head, throwing it somewhere to be forgotten about whilst you pressed your hands into the warmth of his chest and made a greedy noise of appreciation that threatened to make his heart burst, a groan rumbling in his throat in response when you dragged your nails ever so lightly across his stomach and down to the waistband of his jeans. 

His hands found yours then. Stopping them from popping the button beneath your fingertips, and when your eyes shot to his, the beginnings of the soft frown that shadowed them melting into something akin to surprise once you caught sight of him, he wondered if you could read the desperation that he was sure was plastered all over his face. 

Because it wasn't that Steven wanted to stop that had him catching at you. 

It was the utter assurance that if you got your hands on him he wouldn't last a fucking second that made his voice hoarse and his own hands tremble as he all but begged.

"Tell me more of what you think about… tell me what you want." 

And Steven didn't think he'd ever forget the way you looked at him then, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them, hungry. Lips kiss-swollen and parted as you sucked in a sharp breath. Looking so fucking sinful that it had him swallowing down a choked moan.  

You looked wrecked by his words. 

By him. 

He was almost embarrassed by just how close the sight drove him. There was a swell of something unforgivingly hot behind his ribs, searing in his stomach and his veins, all liquid gold and white flame, and he couldn’t resist re-capturing your mouth in a kiss that echoed just how helplessly he was affected by it all. 

You drew his hands up whilst his lips were busy curving over yours, pressing them to the place where the towel lay knotted against the warm flush of your chest and when he groaned at the implication, the way the material came that little bit looser at the slightest touch, you took advantage of his distraction to skim your mouth across his cheek and to the delicate curve of his ear. 

“I want you to take it off, want you to touch me” you murmured, breath hitching when he obeyed with quick fingers, worn fabric slipping away in a soft rush the same way his own breath exited his lungs. “Please.”  Added like it was possible he would even think of saying no, like his hands, large yet reverant, weren’t already exploring. Pulling shudders from your body with every light graze of his fingertips. “I think about it all the time.”

Steven was a goner. Utterly devoted to bending to every whim that you had, to acting out every thought that had popped into your head from whenever you had begun to want him until right then. He wanted to know it all. 

How could he not be when you were reacting to him so beautifully? 

Your fingers had left his to wander long ago so you could twist them into his hair instead. Using your hold to crush him into you further and kiss him breathless when he touched somewhere that made you arch, to tug just a little meanly at the soft strands when he lingered on his path to where you were apparently growing impatient for him, and by the time he was tracing the crease of your thighs you were both wound achingly tight, panting into each other’s mouths. 

He matched your moan when he finally slid his fingers through your folds, throat tight and something like pride flaring deep in his chest at the soaked heat he found there. At the soft, broken noise you made when he pressed gentle circles over your clit. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered against your lips. “Tell me.”

Tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good. Tell me exactly how you picture it so I can give you everything you want. 

Tell me, tell me tell me.

“Fuck, yes, more– please - don’t stop.”  You rushed out, voice strained but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t the prettiest Steven had ever heard it. Absolutely hypnotising and he was under its spell without question, ready to worship at your altar in any way you deemed fit. 

He kissed you with heavy-lidded eyes and open-mouthed, lips catching at yours in the briefest bursts because he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way your chest heaved as he slipped a finger inside you, a second. 

The way your own stare glazed when you told him just how much pressure to use whilst he curled his fingers and had you choking on the words, clenching around him before you could even finish. 

You were feverish in his arms, mewling and arching as he picked up the pace and Steven almost lost his head at the state of you, trying his hardest to not bite his lip bloody when every flex of your hips into his hand had it pressing against his own need. He allowed himself to rock into you just once and then hastily pulled back as the pleasure burned white-hot, sliding his thumb a little firmer over your clit when you squirmed and whined at the loss of him. 

“I know, I know– m’sorry love.” He gasped, breathless, chest tight and voice shot. “You feel so fucking good– I can't–”

You would be the death of him, he was sure of it. His hands shook, fingers curling around the nape of your neck in an attempt to hide it, and there was this unfathomable want clawing at his insides so savagely that he could hardly move without the friction of his jeans threatening to send him over the edge. 

Bloody hell, you had him so fucking desperate he could scarcely think. 

You both trembled as his lips ghosted across your cheek, each breath hot in your ear, as his voice quivered. “What else– what else do you need from me?- I’ll give you anything you want, darling, please.” 

He barely registered the knock of your head falling back against the door, the whisper of a curse slipping past your lips, because at his words you had clamped tight enough around the twist of his fingers to make him shudder. Lashes fluttering at the way your nails bit deep into the muscles of his shoulders as the slick sound you being fucked on his hand grew over the roar of the shower. 

“I- I don’t- Steven, oh fuck.”

Maybe that’s what did it. The way you were so ready to fall apart for him, all pretty and messy and pleading something sinful for more, more, more. Maybe it was the way the evening light peeking in from the tiny window had begun to turn into shadows, hiding the way his cheekbones were swept with pink better than the clouds of steam ever could. 

Or maybe it was the fact that every time his name dripped off your tongue it made him feel so fucking wanted that he was delirious with it, his heart full and shining golden as you peeled back each of those strings of black tar insecurities that had choked the beating flesh for far too long.

Whatever it was, there was suddenly a new found confidence that burned through his veins, one that took every dirty thought swirling in his head and made him prepared to do them all. To give you anything you wanted, regardless of whether you were actually capable of forming the words for yourself. 

There was no missing the blaze of your stare caught on his lips as he spoke after all. 

Oh.

“Do you want my mouth?” Steven asked hoarsely against your throat. “Is that something you've thought about - you want me to taste you?” 

He barely waited for your desperate nod and then he was gone. Dropping to the floor and ignoring the flash of pain that the cold tile spears through his knees as he buried his face between your soaked thighs. 

The first flick of his tongue made your breath catch. The second had you twisting your fingers in the silk of his curls. A third had you tugging at him hard enough that Steven whined into you, the fingers that were dug into the meat of your thighs slipping to your ass to press you to him tighter, his hips thrusting against nothing whilst you bucked against the searing heat of his mouth, utterly uninhibited. 

The sight of it was maddening, it was divine. 

He still didn't quite believe this wasn't a dream. 

There was sweat beading at your hairline - glistening along the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts. He watched the way your free hand trailed the softest path to one of them and squeezed, felt the way your body reacted to the added sensation in the flutter of your walls around his fingers. Squeezing tighter, tighter, tighter, as he rubbed at the soft patch of tissue until your thighs quaked around his head and you grew liquid. 

Voice thread-bare when you whimpered that you couldn't take much more, that you were oh so close and please don't stop. 

He went to flame then. To desperation and insanity and burning, searing need to devour you whole and drink you down until he either drowned or you had nothing left to give. 

And just like you begged him to, he didn't stop until you spasmed and gushed around his fingers. Didn't stop when the call of his name cracked and broke as your voice gave out whilst he licked you through the violent crest of your climax until it's dying breaths and your body fell slack into the door. Propped up between the paint-chipped wood and Steven’s flushed body shoved tight against your own. 

He didn't stop until you jerked in his hold, gasping and pleading, your fingers eventually releasing their tense grip in his hair to slip down to his chin, tilting it. Away from your swollen cunt as he was made to look up at you.  

“Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed weakly, stunned gaze roving over every inch of him as you tried to catch your breath, and he wondered if he looked as wrecked as he felt before you. Wild haired and panting. On his knees with his eyes dazed and face coated glossy with you. 

“I'm sorry,” he rasped, not bothering to even try and appear like he was very sorry at all, “you just taste better than I ever dreamed you would.” 

Your eyes glazed a little at that, a dopey little smile playing at your mouth with it, as the first tendrils of hunger crept back into your expression alongside the tender amusement. “Fuck, Steven - who knew you were such a smooth talker?” 

He laughed, a bright burst, cheeks kissed pink with the heat of your words and the slightly smug feeling of satisfaction that rumbled through his chest as he watched you glow with pleasure before ducking his head. 

“I think that's all you, darling. I can't help it - not with the effect you have on me.” Steven mumbled, a soft and embarrassed grin tugging at his lips even whilst they trailed high over your shin to the crease behind your knee - rising up, up ,up to explore the warm skin of your inner thigh as his fingers swirled delicate little patterns at your ankle. 

He couldn't stop touching you, couldn't feed the ache fast enough that came with needing to do it more than he already was. 

And when his other hand swept the length of your leg to stroke over your belly you made a playful grab for it and brought it to your lips, eyes shining down at him at the way his lashes fluttered and his expression turned smitten before you tugged at him. Pulling him up your body until his jeans were scraping at your skin and his mouth was surrendering once more to yours in a syrup sweet kiss that burned deeper, more feverish, the longer it lasted. 

Steven let you wind around him, let you urge him closer and closer until he was crushing you against the door at your back- wood slippery with condensation. 

He let you roll your hips into his own and finally allowed himself to chase the pleasure with you as it renewed its intensity, let the thick outline of his cock rock against you until you were groaning into each other's mouths. Hands knotted in his hair and pearl-white teeth grazing the plush of his lip when you drew back to murmur. 

“I want you inside me– want to make you feel good. Please, let me show you the effect you have on me.” 

It sent a shock through him - ripped a low, guttural moan straight from his lungs that was followed by a heat-soaked curse that you took from him just as readily as you had everything else he'd given so far. 

He didn't even blink before asking. “Can you say that again?” 

You licked your lips and grinned, breath stuttering as he continued to move against you, fingers digging hard into the meat of your ass whilst you clung to him. “I need you inside me or I'm gonna lose my mind, it's all I've thought about for months - the way you'd feel- how you'd fuck me- oh gods.” 

Another desperate noise. “Fucking hell. Again. Please.” 

This time he didn't try to stop you when you reached for the last article of clothing keeping his body separated from yours.

There was the sharp clink of metal as you tore your hands from his hair to wrestle with his belt, your fingertips slipping over the leather whilst you fought to tug it free from the loops of his jeans before it fell to the tiled floor with a quiet thud and a clank. 

And then you were pushing his jeans down just far enough until he was able to shakily kick them off. His heart in his mouth as he straightened, utterly naked before you apart from the shadows that slanted over his skin. 

He felt a flicker - the ghosts of his insecurity passing over his face before he could blow them away like cobwebs- and prayed that you wouldn't notice. That you wouldn't mistake his hesitation for something else and even consider it to be directed at you. 

But instead it seemed that you understood. Your hands found his jaw and you drew him into a kiss that ached. A lovely, bruising thing that had him melting into you, any insecurities fleeing so fucking far away that he could barely remember what they felt like. 

You held him as tightly as you could and hummed in delight against his lips when he did the same and crushed you to his chest, the sound of it morphing into something needy as his cock throbbed, hot and smearing slick against your hip. 

“I want you, Steven, I don't have the perfect words to explain just how much right now… just know that I need you so badly it hurts– it's hurt from the moment I met you and I don't think it'll ever stop no matter how much I might have you.” 

Gods, you were threatening to undo him. 

You had said you didn't have the perfect words and then given him everything he had dreamed of. Everything he thought he would die still wanting and never get to hear. 

Steven swallowed hard, throat bobbing, and then he was bending down to lift you in his arms, the strength of a god thrumming through his muscles and large hands gripping beneath your thighs as you wound your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Clutching needily at him whilst he peppered your face with sweet, breathless kisses. 

“You can have me whenever you want,” he pressed the words into your jaw, the damp warmth of your cheeks as he walked you into the shower, murmuring the next ones over and over until the rush of the water threatened to drown them out, “I’m yours.” 

You went soft for him in the cradle of his arms at that. Stripped down to your barest bones in the face of his raw emotion and it made his heart flutter and thump all too fast behind his ribs when your voice trembled on a sigh his name, so sweet and lovely. 

Beneath the luke-warm spray and with cold tile at your back, you drew him closer, nudged your nose tenderly against his own and touched him as he fought to commit it all to memory. The way he felt - burning with each and every stroke of hand, each part of him alight as you murmured beautiful affections against his mouth - at the intimacy of it all. 

The image of you that he was sure not even in death could take from him when it eventually came - eyes bright as jewels, lips swollen with his kisses, all lush, silken skin that shone under the weak stream of light the evening had yet to swallow. Droplets of water clinging to your hair and lashes like crystals. You looked like something ethereal, something otherworldly and untouchable, and the privilege he felt in being the one to see you that way, to contribute to the way you were a gorgeous mess, felt like something holy. 

It was almost too much and Steven hissed sharply through his teeth when you finally guided him into you, a whimper caught in his chest and eyes screwed shut as you lowered yourself down inch by inch until his hips met yours. He felt like he was on fire, the warmth that had been blooming in his gut morphing into something violent and unimaginable that had his body tensing as he struggled not to finish before he’d even started. Head falling against your shoulder just before he felt your lips brush against his temple, parting on a rushed exhale. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “fuck, Steven.”

At least, it seemed that you were in just as bad shape as he was. He’d probably say something similar if he could remember how to speak. 

But his mind had splintered. Shattered apart to fragments and the only thing he could focus on was the way you were surrounding him- all slick, tight heat and the overwhelming sensation that burst through his chest of all his lost pieces suddenly slotting into place, like you were a part of his soul he wasn’t aware he was missing until you were finally joined once more. 

“I’m sorry, I just need a minute.” He stuttered, voice hoarse and eyes blown wide, endlessly dark when he peered up at you. Half adoring, half pleading. “I want to make it good for you, you just feel so–gods, you feel too good.” 

He could only moan when you kissed him, a filthy sound that would have had his cheeks flushing scarlet had he not been so out of his mind. Could only stare at you like you were pure magic taken form - no god or pact needed for whatever it was running through your veins - as you threaded your fingers through his hair and whispered. “It’s okay, Steven, it’s okay. It’s already so good, christ–you feel amazing, just let go for me, I want to feel it.” 

It made his desperation threaten to win over. Head spinning as he dragged himself back out of you before surging back in, tightening his grip on your ass and lifting you up higher so he could do it again and again and again. Each thrust sliding you further up the tiles and pulling a strangled noise from the back of your throat that he quickly stole with greedy lips moulded over your own. 

It started slow, deliberate and devastating, and then turned faster. Needier and unrestrained. The sound of panting breaths and skin on skin rising above the dull roar of water pelting against the tiled floor. Open mouthed kisses that were forced to come to an end because all the oxygen felt like it had fled both of your lungs, punched out everytime you slammed yourself down to meet the frantic rolling of his hips. 

Steven had never felt anything like it and it was dangerously close to annihilating him completely. 

There were wicked bolts of something animalistic, a feral rush of desire, threatening to weaken his knees and you gasped in surprise, legs clenching tight at his waist, when he moved to hold you with just one arm banded around across your back as his other hand slammed against the wall for support. 

It changed the angle that he speared into you with and with the next thrust that came you were sobbing for him, seizing up like he’d plunged into the heart of your pleasure and pierced it - letting it flow out to the farthest reaches of you until you were curling into the solid press of him against you. Fingers in his hair and teeth searing a mark into his shoulder. 

“Steven,” you whimpered and fuck, you sounded just as overwhelmed by it as he felt. Shaking in his arms as the heat wrapping around you both grew and grew. “Steven, Steven, Steven.”

It made him choke on his tongue, eyes rolling back at the way you were clenching around him as his thrusts became deeper, greedier. His cock harder than it had ever been whilst you made a mess of his stomach and his thighs and Steven couldn’t get enough, He was so close to losing his mind, so close to devouring you entirely and begging you to ruin him because every sound you made, every sweet little uh,uh,uh that tumbled past your lips was unlocking something wild tucked deep inside him that he was helpless to rein back. That had him babbling nonsense, incoherent words that dripped down on you like scalding hot honey. 

And then he latched his mouth to your nipple, relishing the way you jerked as he flicked his tongue and scraped his teeth across the peak until you mewled before trailing a path of fire up to your collar bones and then higher again to the tender skin of your throat. Sucking a kiss there that had you keening and shone like a bruise when he drew back to meet your burning stare.

“Touch yourself.” Steven begged, more than a little desperate because you were so tight around him and he was so fucking close. Stomach quivering and flooding with golden heat. “Want you to show me– want to see how you touched yourself all those times you thought about this.” 

You nodded slowly as if dazed by the request, lips parted and eyes gleaming dark. But you were quick to comply. Quick to thrust a shaky hand down to where he was fucking up into you, to the crest of your sex where you were soaked and scorching like a furnace, and once you were there, your fingers drew quick, sloppy circles to your clit that had you throwing your head back with a loud cry of his name whilst he watched, lust drunk and in awe. 

“Shit, shit shit.” Each word that bubbled its way up your throat was ragged, edging on breathless as your back arched like a bow. “Steven, oh my god, I’m gonna–”

He surged up before you could finish, hand tearing away from the wall to tangle itself in your wet hair so he could drag your mouth to his and kiss you as you came. Holding you fiercely in place and groaning against your lips, swallowing down your own noises whilst your cunt fluttered around him, convulsing over and over until his movements grew frantic and messy. Warmth pulsing brightly in his groin and his stomach and his too tight chest. 

It was too much - he was bordering on delirious. Everything was hot and wet and he was wound so tight that any moment it felt like he’d explode. Burst apart like confetti. It took every ounce of strength he had to stave off his own release so he could extend yours by letting the frantic rhythm of his snapping thrusts morph into a slow, intense grind that stole the breath from your chest and made it feel like he was melding himself to your body. Like you were burying into each other so deep that you would never truly be able to remove the imprint of the other afterwards. 

There was a flash of pain from your nails scratching down his scalp and across the broad sweep of his shoulders, teeth scoring the softness of his bottom lip whilst shudders wracked your frame and it startled him, the low, starving noise it drew from his mouth. Knocked him flat when you drew the stinging flesh into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the marks you had left behind, and began to raise and lower yourself up and down on his cock that little bit faster despite the way he could feel the muscles of your thighs trembling around his waist. 

And when you cupped his cheeks, eyes burning with a wicked hunger whilst you whispered against his mouth, Steven was utterly lost. 

“C’mon Steven, let go,” you encouraged him, voice wrecked. Desperate. “Want you to come for me, I want to feel it, please.”

He fell apart for you then, crashed into bliss with his arms winding achingly tight around you as his hips stuttered and then came to an almost stop, twitching desperately and fused unyieldingly to your own. His vision going dark and your name like a prayer that he gasped into your skin over and over. 

And when it all eventually calmed, the crashing of his heart beat against his ribs and your chaotic breaths, the exhaustion had him almost falling to the shower floor with you. Both of you slipping down the wall just an inch or two before he managed to right himself on weak legs to the sound of your startled laugh. 

It wasn’t until he had set you down and moved to clean you up, massaging with gentle hands and tender sweeping kisses all the places that he’d gripped so tightly, the places where you were starting to bare his marks that had him frowning apologetically, that it finally hit him that the shower was running cold. You were both being pelted with what felt like tiny shards of ice against your rapidly cooling skin and you snorted a laugh when he yelped in shock and immediately dragged you out of there, eyeing him with a sticky-sweet kind of affection as he snatched the thickest towel he could kind and wrapped it around you before pulling you close in an attempt to warm you up. 

The way you were looking up at him was making his chest ache, filling his lungs up with an adoring kind of wonder, the kind that sprouted wildflowers and soft vines that breached through all his organs to wrap around his ribs. Suffocating him in the best way with just how much he was in love with you. 

It made it impossible for him not to ask. “Can I kiss you?” 

And if he thought that you would laugh at him considering everything that had just happened, that only moments ago he’d been buried inside you, then he was delighted to be proven wrong. Because you were beaming at him the second the question rushed past his lips, eyes sparkling in the near dark of the tiny, damp bathroom. 

“Please.” 

So he kissed you like he’d always wanted to the first time, slipping his fingers through the wet tangle of your hair to cradle your head whilst his lips pressed sweetly and almost shy  against your own. It unfurled like it held its own magic, the type that could stop time and make him feel like he was floating, tingles rushing all through his body until he was lightheaded and needed to draw back before he lost his breath to the irresistible pull of it all. 

You just stood leaning into one another for a while, foreheads resting together, noses nudging each other lazily alongside the occasional soft brush of lips. And then you were wrapping him up in a towel of his own and leading him to the bed, using an extra towel to carefully dry him with a reverence that had his heart flip flopping in his chest and a blush rise high on his cheeks. He melted when you kissed him, little butterfly presses to his arms and chest before you pulled a clean sweater over his head, his thighs and his hips when he lifted them for you to pull his sweatpants on. 

And once Steven had returned the favour, he was drawing you to him in the middle of the bed, your back to his chest and the food that had long gone cold balanced precariously on the blanket pooled around you both. He fed you bites of chorizo and feta fries, coated in herbs and sprinkled with pomegranate, whilst an old movie played and when those three words fell from his lips, without thought and as easy as breathing, Stevens was no longer afraid. 

No longer felt in over his head. 

He murmured against your hair. “I love you.” And swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat when you turned and smiled, your fingers touching his face like he was something precious you had spent a lifetime yearning for before giving him the answer to a question he’d always thought he’d have to ignore for the rest of his life to save his own heart. 

“I love you too.” 

[skzskzskzskzskzskzskz]

【ｂｅｓｔ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ？】

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚pairing: bangchan x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: maybe you weren't too late. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: college au, hurt/comfort, its very awkward ngl, i tried to make it mildly funny but my humor is shit, includes use of (y/n) ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: this is a part 2 so if u haven't read the first part, i suggest to go do that before proceeding ! click here. english is not my first language, so there could be grammar issues and stuff. also this isnt proofread

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he loved you. it was clear, but he still denied his feelings, even to himself. bangchan fucked up. really badly. yes, he was already dating someone, but really, she was just a replacement. he felt bad, honestly. saki had never done anything wrong. she was nice, and smart, and she wasn’t just pretty. she was drop-dead gorgeous. everyone loved her, and he couldn’t blame them. but she just wouldn't cut it. she just wasn't you. when you confessed to him that day, he didn't know what to do. he panicked. he knew that he didn't actually love saki, but it he didn't want to admit it. bangchan was being a coward, always too scared to confess, thinking that it would ruin his friendship with you. every day, he held back his feelings. that was what ruined your friendship. he took a deep breath as he knocked on the door to your apartment. you walked towards the door and looked through the peephole cautiously. "god, its him. of course its him.", you thought. you hadn't talked to bangchan in a week after what happened at his apartment. "...come in.", you unlocked your front door hesitantly. "i broke up with her." "you WHAT?!" holy shit. maybe your delusional ass has a chance. "i don't love saki. i never loved her. there was always this other girl, and i just thought you had the right to know about this.", he said, sitting down on your couch in the living room. oh. nevermind. of course he still likes a girl that isn't you. "i've actually loved her for a really long time. its been.. 7 years, i think?", what the actual fuck. that was longer than time time you've liked him.. "okay, i can't do this anymore.", he continued. "huh?? what-" bangchan kissed you on the lips. you froze, not even able to kiss him back. oh my god. the love of your life just kissed you. on the fucking lips. "uhh are you good (y/n)? i'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable, really." "..." "..hello?.. earth to (y/n)?", he waved his hand above your face. "holy shit." "so are you good now orr-" you pulled him into another kiss. he kissed you back. oh my god. the love of your life just kissed you back. on the fucking lips. at this point, your brain isn't even functioning enough to form a coherent sentence. "i love you", he announced. "woah, i just realized right now after you kissed me twice" "shut up" "wait, channie what are we?" "people", god, he's dense as a rock. "..no i meant like our situation." "we're sitting on a couch", there is no way he's not joking right now. suddenly, he got down on one knee. "christopher fucking bahng." he pulled out a paper ring and asked, "will you be my girlfriend? "you're so fucking dramatic i love you" "..is that a yes?" "what do you think that was?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ a/n: ew wtf was that?? its kind of really extremely bad but idk anymore,, my humor is shit btw so i hope u didn't expect to laugh.

[notlhecxzsa]

Accidents - Scarlett Johansson

Hiii, this is a very very sensitive fic and everything is not a real happenstance. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING ⚠️: Forced sex, super mean drunk Scarlett, physical abused, mental abused, hurt reader.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

You never had a very good past relationships.

But, that was before Scarlett.

At the age of eighteen, you started having boyfriends who did nothing but to hurt you, mentally, and sometimes... physically. You had 3 boyfriends inside of 5 years, 18 to 23, and that was it, you are now 29.

You were done with love, you've always been saying that to yourself after the last relationship you had, which very far much more toxic that the two just broke you mentally, but the last one didn't just broke you mentally, he physically hurt you.

You were a broken chaotic mess for almost 3 years, not believing in love anymore and the other things along that word, but everything changed when you met Scarlett. Scarlett changed everything, so willingly, she badly wanted you to be hers, just as she will be yours that she didn't gave up on courting you even though it took her 3 years, almost 4.

You two met, instantly clicked on, became best friends till she caught feelings for you, which she soon confessed. She knew about your past relationships, hell, she knew about everything. She became your shoulder to lean on, and you became her new found hope to continue on living inside her dull world that is full of toxicity with having sex with random girls, or random artists and going off to the club as her rest.

To say the least, she understand why you were very scared on letting her in to you romantically, though, you would be lying if you said that you didn't caught any feelings for the woman. Ever since the two of you developed your relationship, you felt it, you saw it, you're not an idiot to not see her obvious movements and steps that is screaming the words; "I Like You."

You knew it from the start, and then she confessed, but you weren't ready for anything. But, Scarlett being the charming woman she is, and ofcourse, with all her wealth, she did everything just to get you.

She changed, for you.

She changed you, just like how you changed her.

She stopped sleeping around, she focused on her work, but the rest of her time was spent on you without fail. Though, being a doctor can be a really busy job at times, it didn't stopped Scarlett to woo you and was determined to wait hours and hours until you're free. Most of the timesz she would always find herself outside of your footsteps, outside the house that your parents brought for you for your 25th birthday, wanting you to stop renting. She would always have something in her hands that she brought for you, most of the times, it was foods and anything that she thinks you might like, or anything the she likes for you to wear.

God, everything she'd done for you.

You guys are now 7 months in a relationship, everything was going well, no fights or anything bad has happened between the two of you, fortunately. Until, now.

You went to a party, a friend of hers, she wanted you to tag along, she always wanted you to tag along, being this cocky woman she is, wanting to show everyone that she got the most beautiful girl, it was no lie though, you are a very beautiful girl, a worth giving everything up for.

Along the years, you glowed up, becoming into this woman that looks so well written by a goddess, everyone wants you but, mostly for pleasure, nonetheless, it was no lie that anyone could easily fell for you.

But, being described as that brought some cons to you.

Being sexualized here and there, recieving so many catcalls, some would get have the pass cards, but not when you're with Scarlett, who will definitely punch the shit out of them not even a second.

But, right now, someone's making you feel very, very uncomfortable, and Scarlett's not here, infact, she's nowhere to be seen, which you mentally cursed her for taking so long to wherever she went.

"Come on, don't be such a stranger, sweet face. Why don't we go and have some fun, I'm sure it's lonely to be alone..." A drunken, beefy man from your side, who is invading your personal space already, said drunkenly.

You wanted to get up, maybe punch his face if you would get a chance since he's been bothering you for what felt like an hour already, then run to Scarlett, and get enveloped in her beefy arms.

But, this man got you caged in his arms, almost caged in his arms. And you were scared, you're not really that good in socializing, and running from him would for sure will bring some audience to look at you, and Scarlett might come looking for you in just a few seconds already, so you just scooted as far as you can, only for the man to pull the stool you're sitting on closer to him, almost making tears welled up in your eyes, thankfully, you girlfriend is just in time.

"Hey!"

~~~~~~~~~

You don't know where she was going with her hurtful words.

She was a bit tipsy. A little bit tipsy for your liking.

It wasn't your fault. You know it wasn't your fault. You tried your best to make him go away, she might now saw that, but she saw how you scooted away from him before a fight between her broke out. Leaving the man's face bleeding before she practically gripped your wrist while her other hand went to your waist possessively.

She was almost carrying you out, she guided you to your seat in the red sports car she owned out of many. She slammed the door in front of your face, too harshly for your liking, it made you flinch, it made the beats of your heart became fast than it already was.

God, you know, it wasn't your fault. But, right now, it feel like it is. With all the words being thrown at you as soon as you both stepped inside the house, you following after her, wanting to know what's gotten her upset, wanting to know why she didn't hold you like she does whenever she sees you like this, in fear.

You were very scared.

Now, you felt more scared with her actions and confused with the way she's treating you right now.

Maybe, she wasn't just a little bit tipsy after all.

"I told you that I would get back immediately. I went to get us some drinks, but then you decided to whore yourself around behind my back. What were you thinking, Y/n?" She shouted, throwing the set of keys on the coffee table as you followed her to the living room.

You watched as she paced around the room, while you just stand there with your arms around yourself, as if it will protect you on what is coming. As if it would give you the comfort that you lack off, the comfort that Scarlett could only give.

She rubbed her face up and down with both of her hands, before the both of it raked her pixie hair. "Fuck, Y/n!" She stomped her foot on the ground, before turning around to look at you appropriately.

Her suit is messy and her sweats are a around the place. You don't know where she was being mad and upset about. Her words hurt. It was the first time she called you that, this was the first time she acted like this around you.

You didn't like the way she is acting.

The way she cursed your name in a harshly manner.

The way she was so mad at you for no complete reason.

"Wh-why are- w-what are you saying-" You couldn't even get to finish your sentence when she was again, shouting at you.

"Oh please..." She laughed as if it was funny, but now, tears were already streaming down your face as your heart started to hurt badly. She was drunk, maybe she can't see you clearly, she can't see the tears and how you started shaking so badly. "Don't act so innocent now. God, fuck!" She shouted once again, pacing around the room.

"How- god, Y/n. You don't- you don't know how that hurt me-" You couldn't help but to cut her off. What did hurt her? Did something hurt her the way you were hurting right now?

"What did? Did- did I do something-" Once again, it feels like you weren't allowed to talk when she cut you off, storming towards you that you couldn't help but walk backwards in fear.

"Who fucking told you to interrupt me?!" She was screaming straight to your face, before you felt her strong hands gripping your small biceps.

"Ah, Scar-" You whimpered, and she seemed to snapped out a little as she took her hands back before turning  around, her hands on her head as if she's going crazy.

You think so too.

She's going crazy.

She's hurting you.

You were sobbing when you heard her sniffles. 

She once again turned around to face you, there was something dark and dull in her eyes. You knew, in that moment, she's not the Scarlett you know. And, you could only pray to the gods above to bring that Scarlett back to save you from this woman in front of you.

She walked towards you until she was towering over you already. You couldn't help but to bow your head and tighten your arms around yourself.

"Do you know him?" She asked in a very darkened voice, you can't tell if it was just the alcohol speaking or it was really her. Your Scarlett.

"N-no, I don't..." This time you looked up at her, while you felt ome of her arm coming up to one of your biceps gripping it just as tight as earlier, that you tried to get away because of how much it hurts.

"The truth, Y/n. Tell me thr truth." Now, one of her hands was gripping both of your jaws, you couldn't help but to hold her wrist with both hands, but she was strong.

Much more stronger than you.

You couldn't get away because she was holding you bicep tightly.

Can't she hear your sobs? She once said it hurt her to see you crying, in pain, but now, she seems like a very different person.

Maybe, this was just a dream. A bad dream that you need to awake.

"It's the truth, Scarlett. P-please, believe me..." You tried to take deep breaths because you felt you chest tightening along with your anxiety starting to kick in. "Please..." You begged to the unknown shakily.

She only chuckled a little before harshly taking her hand off of your face, making your face turn to the other side, before she once again, dragged you up into the stairs, then to your room.

Your feet was barely touching the floor as you tried to keep up with her big and heavy steps.

"S-Scarlett, it hurts..." You tried so hard to take your arm back, but to no avail, you didn't. Your heart is beating so loudly, it feels like it wants to get out of your chest as your mind started to spiraling into the darkess unknown where you found yourself being into years ago.

You don't want to get back there.

Oh god, you don't want to go back.

Moments ago, you found yourself trying to be set free from her painful grasp, but now, you found yourself being so defeated that you just conceded to the defeat and just let her have you in ways that you didn't know she'll have you.

You found yourself being forced down on the soft king bed, both of your wrists were gripped tightly by one of her hand on top of your head, her other hand forcing one of your legs apart.

God, she was so strong while towering you over.

She was ripping you apart with her manhood, she already taken you while being bent over to the bed, your feet was barely touching the floor, it was now the second time that she forced a climax in you.

You felt your body getting in and out of consciousness as you continued receiving hittings everywhere her hands chose to land on.

You just know that tomorrow, you will be black and blue. Bruises will be littered on your skin. God, how did you go to this?

You pleas and begs seemed to be unheard by her. Your loud and broken cries was muffled by her bruising kiss whenever she would put her lips on yours.

"Scarlett! P-please... Stop! R-red! Red! I-I can't- I can't anymore. It hurts!" You started, only to be smacked in the face.

"Isn't this what you want? Huh? I'm giving you what you want, Y/n! Or, you like it more when it's that man who's doing this. Do you like that? I bet you do." There comes her sinister laugh, before you knew it, she was already throwing you to the floor before continued to rutting in you.

Your vision started to become blurry, until your voice started to become slurry. You felt wet liquid started to stream its way down on your face starting on your forehead down to the floor.

You were laying on your stomach, she was moving so harshly and so fast behind you. The pain was too much that you starting to feel numb.

You felt your chest becoming more tight, and before you knew it, darkness have already swallowing you over.

[ohraicodoll]

You Bury Me

Joel Miller x Feral Reader/OC The Last of Us 7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: A failed trade, a dress, music, and their own form of confession. Warning: Hurt/Comfort. Explicit Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI

“I'll never know If there's danger in confession Or it's memory that presses Like a blade against my throat Another word and I could choke But what's worse? Tellin' you my feelings Or to die without revealing That you got inside my head And set a fire there instead?”” -”Ya'aburnee” by Halsey “Ya'aburnee means "you bury me." In Arabic however, it represents the idea that you hope the person you love will live longer than you, so you don't have to live without them.”

“Well aren’t you a stunner,” Tommy grinned, looking her over despite her stance giving off the vibe of a wet cat being forced into a room full of children. She shot him a withering stare, glare sharp, but the hostility wasn’t there like usual. Just extreme discomfort. He only kept smiling and she disliked how they were starting to be unaffected by her now that they were getting used to her.

She glowered, hands fidgeting with the material of her dress, feeling bare and uncomfortable outside of pants and entirely weaponless. The dress was snug, fitted to her body, short bell sleeves of all things draped from her shoulders. She hadn’t worn anything fitted in over a decade, hadn’t worn anything other than pants since the Outbreak. Even now she wore whatever she could grab off the floor, whether it be hers or Joel’s or Ellie’s. At this point Joel was complaining about both of them taking his shirts. But Maria had forced the black dress onto her and pushed her into it even after she’d sneered at the ruffled skirt and v-neck that showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with. Tommy’s wife was starting to grow immune to her snapping as well, knowing that for as much as she barked, there was zero bite against her especially while she was pregnant. 

She’d brought it on herself and was going to suffer through it. When sandals were brought out, she flat refused. She could fight in a skirt if she needed to but she drew the line at anything other than her boots, no matter how much Maria corrected her that she wouldn’t be fighting at all. This all had been done with much protesting. A lot of protesting. But she’d been at a disadvantage. She had initiated the trade. Maria didn’t need anything from her and therefore didn’t have anything she wanted for the trade she’d been trying to do between them. Instead, the woman had given her another option in the spirit of integration. She had to come to one of Jackson’s monthly gatherings and dress up for it. Literally. She almost walked out. Almost. This felt like a sort of punishment of the worst kind. A punishment for all the stress and fights and problems she’d been at the center of. Maria was trying so hard to force her to be like everyone else and didn’t understand it was like stepping on a pile of sharp, hot blades. It was physically uncomfortable to be around so many people, especially dressed as she was. No armor. No one understood how intense that feeling was except for Joel, even Ellie having a hard time processing sometimes.

Maria grinned smugly in that overly assured way she always did when she thought she knew better and her teeth grit behind thinned lips. She needed Ellie or Joel as a buffer between her and everyone else, not liking the feeling of the attention being on her. But the teenager had already run off to find her new friends and she wasn’t going to hold her back. The older man was nowhere to be seen since working a construction shift. 

She was trying. God, was she trying if only for Ellie and Joel’s sake but it was hard getting used to being surrounded and not on edge 24/7. Ellie had made sure to wolf-whistle at her when she’d seen her, now that she knew how, and asked if she was wearing the outfit because she had a concussion. The little shit. She wanted to lay out back with the pigs and die. “Fuck off, It was part of a trade,” she bit out, the words easier in her anger, slightly glaring at them both in an attempt to hide her discomfort, “All this for a damn record player.” Tommy’s brow furrowed and he looked over at his wife with a frown, “Record player? Our record player?” Maria shrugged, “Yeah, we don’t really use it or have any good records for it so I’m trading it to her.” The younger Miller winced, looking between both women almost fearfully though the look he was giving her was far more nervous, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I traded that today. I didn’t know-” “You traded it?” her voice cut him off incredulously, irritation and the bitter taste of disappointment on her tongue. Her tone was sharp, cutting, as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, “Seriously? Maria-” Tommy cringed harder, eyes roaming as if to search out Joel or Ellie out of safety, while his wife raised her hands placatingly, “I didn’t know, Red. Listen, I’ll figure something out. I’ll see if someone else has one and I’ll make it right.” She felt stupid. She never asked for anything herself. Never tried to get non-essential items or things just for her. Every trade she had made or request had been for the two people she cared for or the kennels. Join the community, they had said. She tried. If only to keep from getting kicked out and Joel and Ellie from being ostracized because of her. Everyone was still terrified of her and she knew that if she got kicked out, there would be no stopping the two of them from following her no matter how much she protested. 

So she tried even when it felt like being skinned alive for their sake.

She’d tried to make bridges between her and Tommy, get along somewhat with Maria and even approached her for a trade. It had felt like she was being choked while doing it, but she had and had then suffered Maria’s ministrations and been forced out of her comfort zone for even a hint of a prize. Had sat there, seething as Maria did her hair and dabbed makeup on her, nails digging into her thigh. Now there was nothing but embarrassment. 

Stupid. Fucking stupid. Her cheeks were flush and her chest tight, feelings she never allowed to sink in now flooding her. Embarrassment. She was so embarrassed. She hadn’t felt embarrassed since she was younger, hadn’t cared what people thought of her in the years since the Outbreak but now- the feeling was hot and sticky in her chest.

Spinning away from them with a snarl, she pushed through the crowd of happy people dancing around them having a good time and tried to ignore the flutter of her skirt against her legs and the pressing atmosphere of too many people. Skin bumping against her bare arms, laughter in her ear, the lights too bright. Too many eyes, staring, judging, standing at her back. Their laughter was choking her, the music for once not helping but muffling her ears to the point she couldn’t hear herself think. Panic. It hit her hard and she tried to breathe as she ran for the exit.

It’d been a mistake. She wasn’t the same girl from over twenty years ago who had loved music so much she had forced herself into the spotlight despite her fear and anxiety. Letting Maria dress her up, making her feel like a semblance of that girl again, had been a mistake. That girl had died and needed to stay buried if she was going to survive. She wasn’t bashful, gentle, pretty, or delicate. No, that’d all been beaten out of her over and over and over again by life and everything cruel. The world chewed up those types of people and she hadn’t let it, had gnashed her teeth at it and become something else to survive. Maybe she wasn’t made for settlement life. She wanted to claw the dress off her body and burn it, stick her head in a bucket of water until the makeup ran off. She had let herself want something and got burned for it. At least Joel hadn’t been there to see it all, mock her for playing dress up and see how she lacked in comparison to all the other women he could have. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his laughter. He kept her around because she was ruthless, not because of how she looked, and now she appeared weak. Ellie noticing had been bad enough. She didn’t remember the walk home. Only the press of the fabric constricting her skin, the slight buzz of the electricity overhead, the way her heartbeat was overwhelming in its rapid pace. Her breathing was choked around the panic and rage and embarrassment crawling through her veins and she needed to hide away for a while. The slight squeak of the front steps grated in her ear but pulled her back into herself enough to realize she had made it. She huffed out another annoyed sigh, unlocking the front door. She was going to shower, rinse all the stares and laughter and evidence of her humiliation, and hide in bed. Maybe get up early and take a morning patrol shift if only to clear her head and avoid the looks of all the townspeople that had witnessed her embarrassment, breathe in the woods and the wilderness. Hell, maybe she’d take a dive into the river and let it wash her downstream and away from it all. But as she opened the door, she came to a frozen halt. There was music playing in the living room. The soft crooning of Ella Fitzgerald filled the space, the tune soft and low with only the slightest crackling of a worn speaker. It wasn’t the busted radio Joel had tried to fix that cut out every other second. The lights were low, only a lamp on in the corner, and the music made the space feel so much softer, almost warmer. And there it was. The record player she had made the deal for sitting on the top of a small end table that most of the time was covered in books or tools or gun parts. “Hey,” she could feel Joel’s presence even before he spoke, that part of her mind that always kept track of him no matter where he was in the house or around her. But her eyes were stuck on the record player and the spin of the vinyl, watching the motion hypnotically and flooded by the music. Everything drained from her, leaving her hollow, frozen, empty. Her voice was loud in her ears, a roar in a chasm, but she knew it was barely a whisper in the space between them, “I was going to trade for that.” Joel didn’t reply but she could see him rub the back of his neck out the corner of her eye, the slight wince crossing his face as he tucked a hand into his belt, “Sorry, I got it from Tommy today…I knew you had your eye on one and you’ve been stashing records in the downstairs room with no way to play them. This one even has one of those cassette slots for that tape you keep and I know Bobby who runs the library has a good stash of those-” “Joel, shut up,” she whispered though none of the usual harshness was there. Instead, she was struggling to breathe, to suck in air past the knot in her throat and the stinging feeling in her eyes. He’d gotten it for her. Not for him, but for her. He had noticed the things she did, what she liked, and had done something nice for her. Often the things he did for them were utilitarian in nature though he did more for Ellie. It was how he showed he cared. Fixing Ellie’s window, loading the woman’s packs with everything she might need the night before her morning shifts, getting her new boots when her old ones started to rip. But there was no practical reason for the record player. He knew bits and pieces about her that she had given him, scraps of her life. Knew she had tried to be a singer before the world went to hell  and her love of music. Knew that the cassette tape in her bag, the one she’d murdered people to keep from getting a hold of, contained her favorite music her sister had made for her as well as her own voice from a rough band practice Annie had recorded. It’d been a birthday present. Remembered the way she would trace her fingers over the records in the wreckage of stores as they passed through them on the road. He’d watched and cataloged it all and had noticed. He’d always noticed her. “Maria made me dress up in exchange for that,” her voice was raspy, choked, “Stuck me in this stupid dress and forced me to put on makeup and did my hair and made me go to that party. All part of a deal so I could get that player.” Joel was quiet, not interrupting but taking her in. Gauging how best to approach lest she run or snap. She could feel his eyes burning into every inch of exposed skin, to the tightening of her hands and the clenching of her jaw. But slowly he stepped a bit closer, more into the light, with a sigh, “It looks good on you-” “I look fucking stupid, Tex,” the words were spit out aggressively, “I feel ridiculous. They all saw me and there were so many people- But I did it. Then Tommy said he’d already traded it and…I don’t know.” She finally turned to look at him, the words a jumble. She couldn’t even understand what she was trying to convey. The overwhelming feeling of shame and disappointment and panic that had flooded her and made her want to run. She caught the way the light reflected off his eyes, the furrow in his brow and the tightness in his shoulders. He was being careful. Even after all the time they’ve known each other, he knew sometimes to be careful. Not to spook her. “You don’t look stupid,” he muttered gently in an effort to convince her and met her eyes, not breaking eye contact and trying to persuade her to listen, “You…you look beautiful and I’m not just fucking saying that. I wouldn’t lie to you, darlin’. Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine and what I’m saying.” She swallowed, heart racing, “Why?” “Why listen to me?” “No, why did you do it? Why did you get it?” The thought weighed heavy, but also was a distraction to keep from focusing on his voice calling her beautiful. It was dumb and meaningless. Placating. He hadn’t mentioned needing a record and had listed things that only pertained to her. She had records, she had been eyeing it. It felt like she owed him a debt, but that thought also sounded like an excuse, the alternative something she couldn’t quite process. The record was ending, the soft music stopping and leaving them only in silence. He stared at her, took in the hard press of her lips, the way her fingers were fidgeting with her dress, the stiffness of her body as if at any second she’d bolt like a wild animal. Maybe she would. She was more animal than woman most days. Joel sighed and chewed on his lip, tasting a hint of blood from the dry cracked skin, “Because I knew it would make you happy.” The scoff that left her mouth was broken, half-hearted. It tasted of excuses and denial. “When have you ever cared about what makes me happy?” “Don’t,” the word was hard and unyielding, almost a snarl, his brow furrowing deeper, “Don’t do that. We’re far, far past that kind of bullshit now, Starshine, and you know it. We’ve been far past that for a good while now. Maybe out there you could have gotten away with that bullshit, but not here and now. Not after everything.” She did know it. But it was the last barrier she could keep between them, a shredded tattered thing to shield herself. The vestiges of that hatred that had burned at the beginning of their relationship so long ago, had stayed long after he started fucking her and then had dissipated when they weren’t looking like a magic trick. 

Distrust had turned to respect and then protectiveness behind their backs. She didn’t want to think about what it had turned into next. She’d done so much to keep them both safe because they were hers. She’d burn the whole fucking world down for them, would rip and tear whoever she needed to just to keep them safe, and would smile the whole way. But she and Joel had never spoken out loud what they were. She knew what Ellie was to her, to them both, but between the two adults? That was something else. They were hers and he had said she was his before. But it wasn’t something solid or straight forward. The last tinges of her old self who had been awkward and didn’t know how to navigate dating and relationships still hung on in that aspect, but it was mostly fear. It was a dance she didn’t know the steps to, a language she never learned. She understood sex and family but it’d been so long since she had a relationship and her last had been twisted into something ugly. It was tangled together with her sister, with her death and her screams and the sound of a gunshot. She didn't know how to detangle love from violence. Joel stepped closer and her instinct screamed to run. Her heart was beating like a rabbit caught in a trap, the intimacy almost as frightening as a gun to her head or a Clicker’s teeth. She wasn’t breathing anymore, dressed fisted tightly in her claws. “I know shit’s different here, but unless you have some plans to go back across the country then this is it,” Joel’s accent was thick as he continued to step closer, words direct and to the point, “This is home. This is the place we protect. Ellie, me, and you. And if this is where we’re gonna be I want you to be happy. I want you to have your music, have whatever you want. I’ll fix that guitar and we’ll teach Ellie or I’ll hunt down all those dumb comics she likes so much. Fuck, I’ll be the one to learn to cook if I have to so she stops complaining and so you don’t have to. I’ll let you bring those dogs home whenever you want and maybe let Ellie keep one. I want you happy.” She was choking on her heart, air trapped in her throat and she didn’t know what to do but stand there and shake and listen as Joel painted an image of a life she wasn’t sure she could allow herself to want. “You’re it for me, darlin’,” Joel huffed out a chuckle and shook his head as if disbelieving he was having to tell her outloud, “You and me. I’m not looking at anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You and Ellie are my purpose and that means I’m going to take care of you both until the day I die. In whatever capacity that means. Whether it continues like we’ve been, continues to a church one day, or out there in the woods without Jackson. It’s us three. I’m not asking you to let your guard down or stop snapping at any dipshit who thinks they can handle you or be some domesticated stepford wife. But I want this place to be home. All of ours.” Her eyes were flickering everywhere else except his own and she wondered if she had ever felt so terrified. Not since the beginning. Not since watching her own version of Ellie get torn to shreds. Not since she’d hollowed everything inside her but the rage and the ugly parts and let it fester into something wild. She’d survived beatings, survived with the worst type of people, survived being a weapon and not once was terrified during those years. Fighting and survival was easy. Killing was easy. Mindless sex was easy. Feelings were not. Feelings got you hurt, got you killed, killed you slowly and made you crazy with worry and the endless possibilities of what could happen. She’d seen Joel wrestle with them. The panic attacks and that numbing fear. There weren’t supposed to be feelings with her and Joel. But that was a lie. They’d been there, deep and hidden under other things. Protecting Ellie. Getting her to the Fireflies. Adjusting to living in Jackson. Jobs and patrol and helping. They were all a distraction. He lifted a hand to her cheek and she couldn’t help the flinch, the shivering as if she was standing in a freezer. But Joel didn’t back off, let her get adjusted and close the distance between them on her own like coaxing a wounded animal to safety. Her hands dropped the now wrinkled fabric of her dress and instead reached out to grip his flannel shirt, relaxing bit by bit while his hand moved to dive into her brushed and slightly curled hair. “You’re mine,” he whispered, feeling the soft strands between his fingers, “Say the word and I’ll get you every damn record player in this town. Whatever makes you happy.” She choked out a laugh that was half a sob, the sound releasing from her throat, and her eyes stung. But she only squeezed them shut, struggling to breath and enjoying the feeling of his touch. His other hand rested over hers on his shirt and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaning against her, “You do look beautiful, baby. I promise. You take my goddamn breath away. It’s a good thing I didn’t see you out there, I’d probably have made an idiot of myself or bashed someone’s face in if I caught them staring.” The laugh that ripped through her seemed to break loose everything choked up inside of her. He called her beautiful. The words sent something close to butterflies in her stomach. It didn’t feel real and this new territory still terrified her, but little sparks of joy lit her way. She had vague memories of feeling this way years ago. But this was real and now and felt so much brighter than her memories. She couldn’t help the slight smile, voice still slightly unsure, “I had to promise Maria I wouldn’t fight anyone there.” Joel chuckled, holding her tighter against his chest, rocking her slightly, “You wouldn’t be breaking your promise if I was doing the fighting.” Looking up at him, she let herself sink into his warmth and lifted a hand to trace the beard along his chin. It used to be that this was the Joel she would get at night only. Slightly teasing, slightly playful, more open especially after sex. A stoic wall in the daytime. Something had shifted after leaving Jackson that first time, after he’d tried to dump them off on Tommy. Shifted more after his injury and Denver. Now as they settled into life in Jackson, she could see fully how at ease he was with her. There had been progressively more smiles in the daytime, more soft touches even if discreetly. Eventually not so discreetly. His hand in her back pocket, his arm around her shoulders, on her back. Starshine morphed from being an insult to an endearment. It had been a slow, gradual change, but it had happened. She had only refused to acknowledge it, maybe out of fear. Now staring at him, she let herself see that more often he was smiling at her than frowning. Only called her Red when he was angry or frustrated otherwise it was Darlin’ or Starshine. His room had quickly turned into their room and every morning he was usually wrapped around her. Was there waiting at the gate everytime she had to leave without him, though he preferred to stay at her side. Tommy had once called all three of them codependent and maybe they were, but they were safest with each other. They were home. So she lifted herself up and drew his face down to her, breathing against his lips and almost tentatively kissing him. Like it was new, like she would have if it was twenty years ago and they were meeting back then. She couldn’t say all of what she was feeling out loud, was too tired to admit how much he had shaken her foundation with this one seemingly small act and then demolished it entirely with his words. So she breathed into him, whispering along his lips, “You’re mine too,” and kissed him softly and hoped he knew everything that entailed. He pressed back against her harder, mouth slotting against hers and groaning. The hand in her hair gripped her neck and pulled her as close as she could get, the other moving to grip her waist and the soft fabric there. She felt unsure, awkward, not used to feelings being between them so openly and  the pace being soft versus brutal or fervent. Her fingers trailed over the salt and pepper beard of his chin, the slight wisps of curls at the base of his neck, the muscles of his biceps as they wrapped around her. It was almost an effort not to sink her nails into him, to bite his lips with her teeth. Their steps were fumbling as he walked her backwards until her back hit the living room wall. His hand was roaming all over her, touching the bare skin of her legs and drifting his fingers upward under her skirt. They kneaded the soft skin of her thighs and he moaned into her mouth though that quickly turned into a chuckle as his hands found the pair of shorts she put on under the dress. He looked down, lifting the fabric to peer at the additional clothing underneath, “Did you put shorts on underneath this?” She blushed, swatting his hand to drop the skirt, “Shut up, I felt naked.” Joel chuckled and bent, pressing kisses to the underside of her neck before trailing lower, biting and dragging his lips as he went, “You’re cute when you’re bashful, ya know that? It’s fine. Just one more thing to take off ya.”

Her hands dug into the fabric of his shirt and she was determined not to pout, objecting at being called cute of all things, but quickly found herself melting at his ministrations. The delicious friction of his beard on her skin always did something to her and she was feeling especially sensitive to him, her nerves on fire. Joel bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, sucking and teasing the skin, drawing a moan from her mouth. There’d be a mark there, she knew that, and didn’t care. “I wouldn’t mind you wearing dresses more often. Jesus, woman, you’re gorgeous,” he moaned against her skin as he kissed the top of her cleavage. Unconsciously, a yelp left her mouth when he bent down and scooped her up with his hands under her ass, arms flying around his neck and legs crossing around his waist. He grinned at the sound and the flush that heated her cheeks, “I got ya, darlin’. Just wanted to get you to the room before the kid bulldozes in here.” “You are not climbing those stairs with me,” she hissed, looking at the staircase behind them. No matter how strong he was, she also was very aware of both their ages and that if they injured themselves stumbling down the stairs on their way to have sex she’d ask Ellie to put her out of her misery. Joel huffed a laugh, “You’re right, I’m not. We’re using the downstairs room. I’m old, I ain’t stupid.” The spare bedroom on the first floor had quickly become the spare after Joel had complained the handful of times she’d slept down there. Now almost every night she shared the upstairs bed with him lest she wanted to be woken up by him kicking the side of the mattress and grumbling to “get to the room.” It held various things they had scavenged and collected like the guitar Joel had made a project to get to working order, the pieces for it she’d traded along with his craft bench she got for him, her hoarded music, and the various knickknacks she hadn’t wanted to clutter up what she had deemed Joel’s room. Though every now and then the things she put there would somehow appear upstairs, out on full display on top of the shelves and dressers mixed in with his belongings. His own way of making her stuff mingle with his.

He carried her through the door and kicked it shut with her foot, quickly remembering to hit the lock as a precaution after Ellie had almost barged in on them a couple times before. Joel made sure to take advantage of holding her, fingers kneading the soft skin of her ass and keeping her pressed tight against him. With a squeal she hadn’t heard herself make in over two decades, she was dropped down on the small mattress on the far side of the room and he quickly climbed on top, not leaving her alone for even a second. She could feel the delicious pressing of his arousal through his jeans, the way he ground it against her core making her groan. His mouth found hers, frantic and eager, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and diving into the soft graying curls of his hair. She loved to feel the weight of him on her, the hard press of him steady and assuring. Hands quickly tugging his shirt out from his jeans, she felt the heat of his skin and the ridge of every scar she had cataloged by that point. Bullet grazes, knife slices, the puckered edge of that brutal stabbing that had almost taken him away from them. She knew them all, had kissed and licked every single one and memorized them. 

Joel Miller’s body was a thing of beauty, not softening even with age or settlement life. He’d quickly taken up a position in the community he knew how to do well. Construction. It kept him active, in shape, working with his hands and that meant he was still covered in muscle from a hard day's work. It was also why she wasn’t surprised when he had gained the attention of most of the women in Jackson, especially now that he had softened up personality wise. But he’d chosen her. Was kissing her, currently worshiping her mouth and trailing those rough fingers along her arms to intertwine with hers together. It was her that was making him moan and pant her name. Not her name. That name, the one given to her at birth by a woman who didn’t care who she was, had been given to the woods and the bodies she’d left behind. No, he whispered the name they had given her. The only name that mattered now as if she was baptized into this new life the moment she’d met them and been given it. 

Red. Starshine. Darlin. Theirs. His. Her fingers pressed into the skin of his back and she hooked her legs around his, welcoming him to settle between her thighs while she poured everything into kissing him. She swallowed each sound, welcomed the burn of his beard against her skin, feeling arousal shoot straight through her and pool at her core. When she went to unbuckle his belt, he paused her movement and pulled back, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and the deep V of her dress, “Not yet. I wanna savor this dress on you. Show you exactly how beautiful I think you are.” She bit her lip at the heated look, the slight smirk as he sat up, hands roaming over her thighs. Her own insecurities turned her nervous and she struggled to keep eye contact as his hands found the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down and off of her. He chuckled and threw them across the room, “Next time you wear something like this, you can go without those…if I’m feeling generous and let you leave the house.” “Let me, huh?” she whispered, bottom lip still between her teeth. Joel bent down and pushed the skirt of her dress up, bunching it around her waist, “Can’t have other men wanting what’s mine.” He took his time, tracing the edges of her underwear teasingly, the rough pads of his fingers sending small shocks through her in anticipation. Ever so slowly, he pulled her panties off her legs and knelt between her thighs, leaving heated kisses against the skin. She swallowed, mouth dry, and let out an airy chuckle, “Better watch it, Miller.” He paused, dark eyes meeting hers, “What’d I say about my name, Starshine?” Smirking and remembering that night so long ago when he had fucked her in the abandoned store, the night that cemented the path they would take, she raised herself up on her elbows and stared down at him, “Joel.” And then his tongue was on her, parting her folds and licking up every bit of her arousal. A moan tore from her mouth, head falling back as he devoured her whole, lips sucking on her clit and teasing her desperately. His hands palmed her bare ass and the thick meat of her thigh, fingers bruising as he teased her with his tongue. Joel had always been so good at that, something she had gotten intimately familiar with once they had settled down and were able to finally have time to explore one another. No longer having to have quick  blind fucks in the dark, one ear open to danger or Ellie waking up. She didn’t think he even got to see her with her clothes fully off until they made it back to Jackson. But now that they had time he made sure each moment lasted. He played her like his guitar, pulling sounds from her mouth unbidden with each flick of his fingers and tongue. Joel Miller was good with his hands and knew exactly what to do to make her come hard and fast when he wanted her to. But he was taking his time, bringing her to the edge then slowing down before doing it over and over again. She was never one to beg, but she could feel the plea on her mouth as she ached all over for release and overwhelmed by the sensitivity. She panted his name in desperation and could feel him grin against her, mouth glistening with herself, “Tell me what you want, darlin’. Come on.” So fucking cocky, this asshole. She was tempted to swallow her words, swallow her own tongue just to be defiant. But then he dipped his tongue into her, the flat plane of it sending shockwaves through her body and she growled, “Fucking make me come already.” He laughed at the not so gentle plea as if knowing she wouldn’t mewl and beg like he wanted, shaking his head, “So bossy.” But she didn’t care after that because he was sucking her clit between his lips and his fingers were pumping into her, hard and fast, curling into the exact spot that made her see stars. The friction of his beard on her, his tongue, his hands were all so much and she was overwhelmed, body made of fire and lighting searing every nerve. She came against his mouth, orgasm hitting her hard enough it took her breath away. Her body felt like it was floating, Joel’s careful hands keeping her from washing away, gentle lips leaving soft kisses along her thigh. A thrill went through her at the gentle affirmations and breathy, “good girl,” he whispered into her skin. She was still catching her breath, but could feel him locate the zipper on her dress and he helped her to sit up to pull it up. So gentle with her like she was the most valuable thing in the world. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and slowly she undid them, feeling his eyes on her as he kneeled between her thighs. His hands never left her skin, trailing softly over her calf but letting her take her time. Each layer came off of him. Shirt, undershirt, belt, jeans. He let her unveil him like it was a ritual. And when he was naked before her, both of them bare and heart open, his hands cradled her cheeks when he kissed her. It was more intimate than anything she had ever felt and was as if he was cradling her raw heart between his hands. It was fire and fear and joy and so much and yet not enough. It was an I love you without words. She pulled him down on top of her and deepened the kiss, tongue swirling to lick up every bit of herself and devour his own taste. Everything that made him Joel. Her gasp was swallowed as he started to push into her, groaning at how tight and warm she felt, thighs slick with the aftermath of her orgasm. Her forehead was pressed against his and she drank down every little sound his mouth made, every hitched breath, watching as his lashes flickered against his cheeks. The pace was slow, building, and she hooked her legs around his calves to usher him deeper, wanting him to fill her up as much as he could. “Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, fingers tightening on her thigh while the other intertwined with the hand above her head. She held onto him like her life depended on it and let her drown in him, gave him the control and simply held on. Trusted him. Each stroke was a lightning strike and she could feel the way he was slowly losing himself in her, the pace becoming faster and thrusts more aggressive. Her orgasm was climbing, pleasure tightening low in her belly, skin hot with sweat. Her hand clenched his, almost a sign to him, and he broke at last. His mouth collided with hers, tongue against her own, teeth biting into her lips. Joel pounded into her relentlessly, her name on his lips and hold bruising. This was how she liked him best. Passionate and uncontrollable, a fucking tornado to be reckoned with. She’d seen it only when it came to them. Whether it be protecting them or destroying everything in his path to get to them. Joel was as much a beast as her at times but she’d always accepted that, never shied away.

Like calls to like.

Both their orgasms were building together, crashing into one another as if their bodies knew. Every tense moment, every decision and fight and fuck and choice, had led them together and she felt it in her whole being that this was who she was supposed to find at the end of the road. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let go, letting her be pulled under by him and their bodies and everything that had come before and would come later. It was fireworks and electricity and everything as her orgasm hit and she moaned hard into his mouth, feeling him release inside of her, warm and full. He would always follow her over the edge and the thought made her eyes sting. 

They were panting, breathing each other in, bodies sweaty and sticky and the cooling air doing nothing against heated skin. She opened her eyes and met his dark irises, watching her intently, and she couldn’t help but grin at him wide. His breath caught and he swallowed hard, hand leaving her thigh so he could trace the crinkles around her eyes. He caressed the skin with his thumb in reverie, drawing out a blush even after everything they had just done. It was new to feel so exposed. A second later they could hear the front door crash open followed quickly by the familiar stomps of Ellie entering the house, kicking the door shut even after they had told her a million times to stop doing that. They froze, eyes locked on each other, waiting to see if she would call for them or try to enter the downstairs room for some reason. But they could track her loud steps up the stairs and a bit later her door shut. 

It was hard to believe she ever used to be good at walking silently out beyond the walls. They both breathed a sigh of relief and then chuckled only for Joel to quickly hiss, pressing his face against her neck as she unconsciously clenched around him, “Darlin’ don’t laugh while I’m still in you.” She had to try and keep another chuckle in, a first for her, knowing it would only make her do it again. Teasingly, she did it on purpose one more time only for him to bite her shoulder and she yelped, letting laughter take over her once he had pulled out. He chuckled as well, pressing small kisses all over her skin. It would take time to get used to all the new. The new change in their dynamic, the open feelings, the music, the softness, the laughter and smiles, the fear that came with it all. Lifting your armor can leave you vulnerable but without doing so there was no way the joy could get in as well. And she couldn’t live her life without them, would brave every horror imaginable for them.

She’d take it all if it meant she got to keep both of them. ______________________________________

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[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

If it weren’t a bother, i request 📖🥰🔞💻 :)

Thank you, you do not need to hurry!

Business Merger - Kurt Goreshter/Reader

Warnings: If you aren't in love with Kurt yet this might make you be cause oh my god I love him so much, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, light grinding, oral, slight handjobs and fingering as prep, smut, pillowtalk /)w(\

Wordcount: 5337

Summary: You hated blind dates. Everyone knew this about you. So when your longtime friend claims to have gotten you a date with the hot guy on TV you don't know whether to hit her or kiss her, maybe by Friday you'll be able to tell.

Notes: My first fic with Kurt 💗🥰💗 I love him so much, I was giggling and kicking my feet as I tried to write as much of this at work as I could /)w(\ I also took so long you had a birthday, so ayyy happy birthday! I almost didn't write this one since I felt uncomfortable filling a smut request for a minor, but it all evened out naturally, and I see you in my notes all the time, so thank you so much for the request and I hope you like it 💗💗💗

You'd never been one for blind dates, for starters. Everyone knew this about you, how you preferred to get to know someone first before doing anything like meeting them, but when your longtime friend and co-worker briskly walked up to you that morning you knew you were in for trouble without even needing to know the reason.

‘How'd the merger go?’ you asked the moment she opened her mouth, but your attempts at saving yourself from whatever she had to say would not dissuade her today.

‘Potential merger, and that's precisely what I wanted to talk to you about,’ she told you excitedly; great, you'd walked right into it. ‘Y'know how we all thought they were small-time and this would be an easy buy?’ You did very much so, it was the talk of the office all week, one more small startup swallowed up by the big boys upstairs. ‘Well it turns out that they're the ones who stopped those guys last weekend! Y'know, the ones on TV who got interviewed when Ant-Man was splashing around the bay!’

‘Oh shit, that's who they were?’ You'd watched that report live, fascinated by the explosion on your feed about how one of the rogue heroes who fought alongside Captain America himself was now making an appearance after two years.

‘Yes! They still showed up for the merger, even after all that, and, get this, Harland doesn't even want to take them over anymore, he wants to make them affiliates! They're gunna have a floor here come August!’ She was clearly excited, with how hyperactive she got over normal things it must've been difficult for her to keep her composure while it was all going on, and you felt the need to commend her when she continued and stunned you silent. ‘But that's not the best part; a few of us got to talk with the guys afterwards over dinner, and guess who's got a date for Friday Night.’

‘Hmmm… is it you?’ You raised an eyebrow at her, she was always the one to get the dates growing up since she tended to outshine everyone in the group no matter who you were with, but she just shook her head and bit her lip with a wide grin.

‘Nope,’ she practically vibrated, that feeling that you were in trouble arising again seconds before: ‘It's you! We started talking about some other people from around the office and I brought you up and one of them thought you sounded nice, so you're meeting him in four days!’

You were stunned. You were genuinely, honest to God stunned. She'd known you practically all your life. She was basically an honourary sister to your family at this point. And she still went against your one rule against blind dates and with a local celebrity no less.

‘You're too happy to speak, I knew you would be, it's been a while since the last one, yeah? Don't worry, he might be a little eccentric but he was very nice, I almost asked him out myself, but I figured you might be a better match for him.’

You didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted, at least this date would be with a superhero, that would make for an interesting conversation starter at least. ‘Okay, well, I think I can handle a date with Ant-Man, yeah, that might be doable-’

‘What? Oh, no, your date is with his friend, the hot one with the hand tats.’ Again you were stunned silent, a deep blush spreading over your cheeks in not only remembrance of the man in question and how he was indeed hot, but also because you had no idea how you were going to pull off this not-so-blind-date with someone you knew nothing about other than that your boss almost bought him out. ‘I knew you'd be excited, you're so red- okay okay, so here's the address, it's that nice place over by that coffee shop we like, you know the one, he said he'll be waiting outside so you can go in together so do not be late, do you need me to write all this down, actually? Lemme grab a pen-’

Oh yeah, you were definitely in trouble.

The rest of the week went by in a blur, your thoughts on what the hell you were going to wear to this fancy as hell restaurant he'd picked out and what the hell you'd even say to him. You knew nothing about him other than the basics, that he was Russian thanks to the interview, that he was good with computers and worked with security thanks to your job wanting to buyout his, and apparently that he'd been in jail for five years thanks to the whispered word around the office. All four of them had, including Ant-Man himself which was incredibly interesting, but you'd never even stolen candy from the shop down the street when you were a kid, what were you going to have in common with this guy?

You were decent with computers, but that was only because you liked video games, and you were pretty sure this hardened criminal turned security expert (which now made sense to you) wasn't going to talk to you about the latest mobile games that were advertised to you no matter where you looked. This was why you hated blind dates, all of this was too stressful, everything you planned beforehand was just bouncing back to you as a negative, he wouldn't care, this was going to end in disaster. Hell, maybe the date would go so bad he'd convince the others to not accept the affiliation and they'd find someone else to partner with; you'd definitely be fired for that one, your entire job and livelihood were now on the line thanks to this date, if you didn't impress this guy you could lose it all-

You felt sick to your stomach as you called a cab to the restaurant, your outfit pristine and overly expensive as to impress him, your hair neatly styled and making you look sophisticated, and your stomach so upset that every bump in the road was about to make you ruin the upholstery.

There were already cars lined up outside, the valet taking their keys and switching out with the woman behind him, and you realized that a cab was not the right move to impress as the rich people outside looked down their noses at you. You resisted the urge to look down back at them if only to save the little you had for lunch as you stepped out, your hands clasping together as you nervously scanned the crowd for his somewhat familiar face.

You turned when you heard your name, your cab driving off and revealing the man jogging across the street to stand with you, and your face lit up at the sight of him; his hair was impeccably styled just as it was in the interview, which you definitely hadn’t watched about 50 times for any hint of what to say, and while he did wear a suit he also wore a leather jacket overtop, the collar upturned and making him still look a bit different than the people around you. You couldn't help but stare as he approached, his smile nervous but very excited as he gently grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed both of your cheeks. 

‘I’m Kurt, from the meeting; is nice to meet you, your friend, the loud one with expressive eyes, she show me photo on the phone,’ he explained as his right hand remained on you, and it took you a moment to realize how tall he actually was when he stepped up onto the curb with you. ‘Reservation is for hour from now, I wish to know you better before we settle on whether to proceed with dinner or no, your friend said you would like that more than the “blind date,” as she called it.’

You made a mental note to buy her lunch as you nodded, the people around you staring at him as they tried to figure out if he was dangerous or not between the jacket and the heavy accent and the tattoos, and you felt protective as you took his hand and started off down the street.

‘Did you have anything in mind?’ you asked as you walked, and he looked around before pointing to the café you liked, your steps hurrying in excitement even though you were going to have dinner later.

‘Coffee?’ he just asked, and you nodded as you walked inside, dressed to the nines, and grabbed a table by the window. He pulled out your chair for you before sitting down across from you, the baristas who were already very familiar with you but not your date whispering behind the counter, you saw out of the corner of your eye. ‘Is nice place, I see as I head to work but never been inside,’ he thought as he looked around, his jacket now on the back of his chair and only making him look all the more dressed up without it.

‘Yeah, I come here almost every day, it's my favourite place,’ you said as you gazed upon the familiar decor, the smell of coffee and the sandwiches they made mixing perfectly with the donuts and other treats, your stomach growling as it eagerly waited for you to get your usual. ‘So, uh… what do… I mean I already know what you do for work, and I guess you know what I do? So um, what else do-?’ You were floundering, you were going to going to blow it, you were going to lose your apartment-

‘Forgiving me if I might be making you nervous? Your friend did saying you were preferring to talk beforehand, but when I heard about you…’ You instantly calmed as your expression softened, he was looking at you so genuinely as he rested his arms on the table, was… was he nervous? ‘You're looking so stunning tonight, your picture, it did not do you justice.’

You didn't realize your mouth was a little agape until you snapped it shut again, and when he smiled at you it was almost apologetic.

‘Sorry, is been a while for me, have I offended you?’ he then asked in response to your silence, and you were quick to sit forward and reach for his hand to make sure he stayed where he was.

‘No, no it's not that, it's just… it's been a while for me, too,’ you admitted to him, and he just smiled again before looking a bit more relaxed.

‘Good evening, may I take your order?’ The barista, Moina, someone who definitely did not have Waitress as part of her job, had approached while you were distracted, and you hid your face from her as he looked impressed with the service.

‘No, we're just talking before dinner,’ you tried to say, but your stomach growled again as Moina tapped her pen against her notepad with a smirk.

‘I'll bring you your usual, is there anything you would like, Mr….?’

‘Goreshter,’ he answered, the name sounding so good when said by him that it made you want to hear more. ‘Do you have the menu for to look over?’

‘She's not a waitress, she's just nosy,’ you revealed, and he nodded in understanding. ‘I guess one donut can't hurt our appetites too much.’ You stood together, Moina hurrying back to prepare your coffee while her co-worker eagerly awaited the gossip before the two of you walked over and instantly made her stop. He admired everything in the display cases, the large array of coffee ignored as he eyed up the pastries instead. You had been kidding, there was no way you'd fill up on sweets before what was going to be a painfully expensive dinner, but he didn't hold back as he motioned for someone to come over.

‘I'll be taking two of these,’ he told Moina as he pointed to the red-filled danishes on display, and she nodded as she got out two and placed them on some small plates on the counter. ‘Black coffee, also.’ His order was ready the same time yours was thanks to its simplicity, and you got out your wallet to pay for your own coffee when he held out his hand. ‘No paying, not when we're still on date,’ he just said, and you could only nod as he paid for yours as well and escorted you back to your table. You sat down and went to take a sip when he pushed the second danish towards you, it was a gift, and you were in the middle of trying to refuse when he shook his head and lifted his own. ‘You wish to know me, know I enjoy such desserts.’

‘But dessert before dinner?’ you asked conspiratorially, but he was already taking a bite, so you had no choice but to accept his kind offer. It turned out that the red was raspberry, and you hummed in enjoyment of it as you quickly took a second bite; that was what you loved about the place, no matter what you tried they always nailed it. He nodded in agreement to your enjoyment, and when your mouth was empty you took that sip of coffee, Moina making it exactly the way you loved yet again.

You talked casually as you ate, and you noted how the girls lowered the lights for atmosphere in your corner of the café as you listened intently to him speak. Never once did you bring up what happened at the bay, and only after you'd been talking for almost an hour did you learn that the Scott he was talking about was actually Ant-Man. You didn't realize you were late for your reservation by five minutes until you got a text from your friend, the question of if you'd had a fun time alerting you to the time, and you quickly got up and gathered your things; you'd taken off your own jacket ages ago, his suit coat joining the back of his chair, and he watched you disappointedly before you motioned to the door.

‘It's 8, we're gunna miss our reservation,’ you told him as you went to run your dishes back to the counter, Moina calling for you to leave them from her spot by the espresso machine.

‘You wish to continue?’ he asked hopefully, and you smiled just as hopefully as you nodded at him. He stood and grabbed his coats, his arm outstretched for you to take as you headed back out into the night, thumbs up from your friends the last thing you saw before the door closed behind you. Thankfully the restaurant was basically right next door, the walk over fast as you approached, but the new people heading in took one look at the both of you, linking arms, giddy from the pleasant conversation, with your coats hanging off of your free arms, and decided that you weren't good enough for this place. He straightened himself up, ready to walk in, but you held him back, your cheeks flushing again as you looked up at him.

‘Hey, why don't we do dinner at my place instead?’ you suggested carefully, your heart racing as he looked to the doors and then back at you.

‘I would prefer that, this place too trashy for my date,’ he agreed, the people around you offended as you then flagged down a cab, only for him to lead you to a parked van nearby. It was decaled professionally for his business, and the front seat was high and roomy as he helped you up to it, and when he joined you in the driver's seat he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. ‘Where to?’

You fumbled your address twice before giving him the correct one, and something in the air changed as he pulled into the parking lot dedicated to your building. He followed you all the way up to your apartment, your nervous chuckle of, ‘Well, this is me,’ making him move a little closer to you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You were glad you'd cleaned in your panicked nervousness as he took in your place, your hands shaking a little as you took both his coats and laid them over the back of your couch after hanging up your own. ‘Uh, let's see what I've got in my kitchen, or we could order out? I can make a mean chicken parmesan though, or a burger? Whatever you're up for.’

You were nervously talking again, the change of location had completely reset you but for a different reason as he turned to face you, and behind that serious expression was something else; he was also nervous still, but there was excitement in there as well as the hope from before, and you swallowed when you realized you were backed against your table. 

‘I can also order a pizza, if you'd like,’ you tried to continue, but all thoughts of eating went out the window as he lifted your hand to his mouth again. He took his time, kissing each of your knuckles all the way to your fingertips before placing your hand against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin was electric as he stepped so close to you but didn't make contact, he was waiting to see what you wanted.

‘ты мне очень нравишься,’ he whispered into your palm, and you felt your breath catch at it all, your mind not even processing that it wasn't even English at first. ‘I really like you,’ he clarified when you tried to ask what he said, and your eyes widened in excitement as he moved even closer, ‘I was very much happy you accepted the date.’

‘I am too, I mean, I like- I like you too,’ you whispered, your voice just barely escaping as he brushed his thumb over your jaw, and when he suddenly leaned down to kiss you you felt the sparks run down all the way to your toes. It was chaste, and he pulled away just as fast like he was surprised with himself, his body moving away from yours as he instantly apologized.

‘Forgiving me, I did not mean-’ he started to say, now he was the one panicking about messing everything up, and you just smiled before pulling him back down to continue the kiss.

He relaxed the moment he knew it was okay, your body leaning further and further until you were bent over the table, your back hitting the cold wood and your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He groaned into your mouth, were you really about to do this? But one shift of his hips against you made you realize yes, yes you really were as you tangled your hand into his hair and made him do it again. He obliged, your body shifting up the table with each short thrust, your mouths only leaving the other to moan or pant, and when you could take it no longer you pushed him back enough to work on the buttons on his shirt.

‘Where is bedroom?’ he asked as he helped you, your heart pounding hard as he took off his shirt and stared down at you, and you only pointed down the hall before he was picking you up and carrying you. You kissed his neck the whole way there, and he found the correct door and placed you on your bed before helping you reach a similar state of undress. One by one your fancy clothes were tossed to the floor without a care, your perfectly styled hair a mess the more he kissed you and ran his hands through it. More tattoos revealed themselves to you as you became more acquainted with his bare skin, and they decorated him by staining his arm and chest black, souvenirs from his time in prison along with the ones on his hands. He was fit, with the tiniest amount of tummy, his skin plush under a dusting of hair that trailed down into his boxers, and you bit your lip at the sight of what eagerly awaited you underneath.

He didn't remove them though, just cupped the back of your neck and leaned you back until he was on his hands and knees above you; he spoke in Russian again, catching himself faster this time before telling you that you were stunning, the thrill calming a bit as he just looked down at you. ‘So lovely, from moment I saw I wanted to be meeting you,’ he said softly, a sudden thickness in your throat as you felt more adored than you ever had been before.

‘I was excited when she told me I would be seeing you tonight,’ you admitted, and he smiled gently before leaning down to press kisses from your lips down to your collarbone. You watched him as he worshiped you, his hands trailing over your sides as he moved further down, your chest heaving as he hooked his fingers under the band of your underwear. He spoke in Russian again but he didn't have to translate as you just nodded, your last article of clothing joining the others as he lifted your legs over his shoulders and kissed you again.

Your hands found his head as he moaned against you, not wanting to force him down but also really wanting to do nothing more than that as he gripped your hips, and when he silently encouraged you to move as you pleased you didn't dare offend him by keeping still. He knew what he was doing, his tongue just as talented as his hands must’ve been as your pleasure built, the thought of him slipping a digit or three inside of you making you jolt as a particularly good burst made you gasp. He didn't stop until you warned him, the hand in his hair tugging a little too hard and making him groan again, he wanted to finish but you needed him, you couldn't let him go home without him coming too, and you were not going to let it be via your hand after that.

He licked his lips as he caught his breath, the sight of him between your trembling thighs so enticing that you couldn't hold back, and you sat up just enough to grab his hands and guide him back up to you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you, your head swimming as he laid himself flat over you, his weight feeling so comfortable and addicting that just the realization of waking up without him tomorrow morning was suddenly a painful thought even though it'd never occurred to you before. You clung to him then, scared that he might disappear, but he wasn’t afraid of your sudden desperation as he kissed you so softly it nearly made you cry.

‘I wish to have you,’ he asked against your lips, and you kissed him again before nodding, his forehead resting against your own.

‘I wish to have you too,’ you told him back, and when he sat back to slip his boxers over his hips and down his legs you thought that he might be the most beautiful thing on earth. Usually you weren't so sentimental, not for sudden hookups at least, but with him it felt right as he laid beside you and got you to straddle him. You'd seen it but he felt so large pressing against you, your throat thick again as you gave yourself a quick reprieve to grab the lube and condoms you kept in your nightstand, both rather neglected since your last relationship had ended. You felt nervously giddy as you tore open the condom, unsure if you should put it on him or if you should hand it over while you prepared yourself, your mind going blank as he whispered something you didn't understand and guided your hands down.

Wordlessly he helped you roll it onto him, his movements slow and patient as you felt his pulse under your fingertips; he was so hard you didn't know how he could be this calm when it was killing you, your body already aching to have him inside of you. He could sense your readiness but he just chuckled lightly to himself, his large hand wrapping around yours and trapping your palm and fingers around his dick as he led you to give him a slow stroke, then another, and another, his eyes glazing over as you got the picture and continued as he let you go and picked up the lube from where you’d placed it. 

You felt your breath still as he poured some onto his palm, a blush spreading down to your shoulders as he then coated his own fingers in it instead of letting you, and when he sat up and got comfortable against your headboard you crawled on your knees until you were on his lap, your hand still moving over him as he reached between your legs. ‘Tell me if it’s becoming too much,’ he told you, your lips parting before you felt him press against your entrance; instantly your back arched as he held you in place, a hiss escaping through his teeth as you squeezed him a little too hard, and you apologized as you quickly kissed him, each sorry eaten up as he started to finger you in earnest. 

You resisted the urge to ride him as he worked, your hand keeping a steady pace in return as you were stretched open for him, his hands truly just as talented as his tongue as he found that sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. He spoke to you again as he held you to his chest, but you weren’t sure what language it was this time as your waning orgasm was teasingly built up again. ‘D-don’t,’ you managed to say, needing to warn him not to do it too much, and he kissed your neck as he went back to stretching you instead, a second finger added and scissoring you open. You bit your lip and sped up your hand on him, now you the one to tease as he had to stop, the desperate groan in your ear telling you that he couldn’t wait any longer.

‘ты мне нужен,’ you heard him say before you were toppling to the side and onto your back, your body bouncing just a little before he was pushing your legs to your chest. ‘ты такой замечательный…’

You thought for just a moment that maybe he couldn’t concentrate long enough to translate anymore, English completely forgotten to him now that you were in his arms, and you wanted to hear more as he lined himself up and pushed inside as far as he could go. You share a breath as you both stilled, your arms around him as he clung to you and the sheets, time stopping as you looked up into his eyes. It’d never been like this before, usually if you were lonely enough for a hookup you’d quickly fuck and that would be it, but this was different, he was different as he let you adjust around him, his hand finding yours again as he kissed it before breathing shakily against your palm.

‘я хочу, чтобы это длилось вечно…’ His voice was so soft, his hips jutting slightly with every shift of your bodies, and you brought him back down to you as you wrapped your legs around him again.

‘Please,’ was all you could say back, and he kissed you as he started to move. His hand stayed grasped in yours as he thrust into you, a slow but still deliciously hard pace that had you rocked up towards the headboard with each one. Your nails dragged and dug into his skin as you clung to his back, presumably a curse falling from his lips as his free hand slid from your lower back to your hip. You couldn’t get enough of him, how each kiss still tasted like black coffee and danishes, how he was so big but he still held you soft enough that you wouldn’t even bruise, how even when his pace sped up a little he never stopped holding your hand.

You linked your fingers together and urged him for more, you weren’t even sure if he could understand you anymore as he just opened his eyes to look into yours, but one quick kiss was enough to break the barrier when you nipped at his lower lip. He smirked at you before flipping you back over, a laugh leaving you as you were effortlessly pulled back into straddling him; the top of his head hit the headboard in his excitement and you laughed again as he swore, but still your hands didn’t separate as he kept fucking up into you, his own big smile on his face when he saw yours. You braced yourself on his chest, right over another tattoo as you rode him, the angle allowing him to go even deeper as you arched back, his hand gliding over the expanse of your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, all so he could commit you to memory.

‘ты красивый,’ he breathed, something in his tone making you stop and stare, and something in those words made the lump in your throat return until you were sniffling; you didn’t realize you were crying until he was sitting up, pulling you towards him, your movements stilling as he kissed away your tears and held you to him. He helped you move as you continued to ride him, your chests pressed together while he kissed your neck and held your face to his shoulder, more praise falling from his lips as it all became too much.

You clenched down around him as you came, and he grabbed your hip and guided you so you’d keep moving, your knees aching but you never stopped until he was laying back down again. You let him use you as he chased his own release, your hands now clasped between your chests as you caught your breath, and when he finally came you felt almost disappointed at the fact that you couldn’t feel him come inside you, a thought that had never occurred before now seeming so warranted as he collapsed onto the mattress. You didn’t let him pull out as you remained on his chest, your head in the crook of his neck as you watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow, and finally his hand left yours if only to cup your cheek.

‘милая моя… you… you are wonderful,’ he panted, his senses coming back to him as he kissed the side of your head, and you practically melted into him as you held him a little tighter.

‘It’s Saturday tomorrow, I hope you’re not planning on leaving,’ you tried to tease, but you couldn’t help the slight hopefulness that crept into your voice.

‘нет, I took weekend off for date,’ he said, his hand now brushing through your hair. ‘I did not want to hope, but…’ Your face flushed again, the thought of someone like him being so nervous about what you’d think of him making you feel more important than any date or partner had ever before. ‘Monday, we will becoming neighbours together, we start moving our stuffs into floor below yours, I’ll be seeing you more?’

‘Oh you’ll be seeing me a lot more, if you’d like?’ Your finger traced shapes over his chest, that hope arising again as you looked up at him, and when he smiled you had to stop yourself from confessing your love after the first date.

‘I would be liking that, very much.’

Maybe blind dates weren’t so bad, after all.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter 20 (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: A sudden confrontation from the enemy...

Chapter Word Count: 4K

Series Masterlist

Warnings: A sex scene that isn't smut. It isn't too explicitly described and is not meant to be super titillating and is brief.

It just occurred to me that said scene, while not explicit, could have what is considered dubious consent. Even if it is in her imagination, even though Reader verbally says "yes" in the fantasy, it is bc she is doing her duty as a wife, I can see how this is considered dub-con and could make some people too uncomfortable to enjoy the chapter. So, for your safety- It scene starts at "Now, hurry and get it over with, Will," and ends at "Then, when he was done-"

Mentions of cheating (I portray the Will/Cora affair in The Essex Serpent unsympathetically so if you have an issue with that, you have been warned). Supporting Women's Wrongs. Violence and blood implied sexual harassment, and fear of sexual assault (but it DOESN'T go there), scary stuff and angsty stuff, but a happy ending. Grammar mistakes and lack of editing or extra super revision bc I just wanted to Get This Shit Done (tm).

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

When you found the letters on your first wedding day, you had a life already set before you. A life that would take an obtuse turn. Where all would happen…but you would not be happy. You had often wondered if the marriage to the revered went through.

You imagined the scene. One image haunted your mind once you saw the inside of your fiancee's house. Of when he was no longer your fiancee, but swore an oath before his God to be your husband. It was after the ceremony, the celebration where you could only stare blankly at the table, barely eating. And he would hold your hand as the sky got dark and lead you to the white house, ducked his head under the doorframe to go upstairs and commence the wedding night.

You lying on that blue bed. You said “yes”, because you were a dutiful wife. A motionless doll for him to play with, for there was nothing inside you to fight now. Stiff as a board on the bed. You would lift the skirt of your shift on the blue bed. Legs open and eyes open, face away and placid, consenting because it was your duty as a wife now. That was what good women did. Now, hurry and get it over with, Will.

The Lusty Vicar…well, living up to his nickname above you to put it delicately. Hearing him grunt in your ear, and feeling him over you, inside you.

Knowing who he was thinking of. Knowing who he was imagining beneath him, in him. Knowing who it was who made him lose his bearing.

And it wasn’t you.

Your face was turned away despite the position of the act, your eyes not wanting to even look at him. Feeling his sweat and how his curls brushed against you. Hoping he wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t ask questions. Focusing yourself on the far left corner of the ceiling and not him or what he felt like. Creating a mental distance between the two of you in the ultimate act of physical closeness. You would not fool yourself and let yourself feel the pleasure of the marriage bed now that you knew the truth. You wouldn’t think of how much you wanted him, much less how much you loved him. Thinking of what you’d make for breakfast, what the next sermon should be on, or the dishes that needed to be washed tomorrow. Not on Will as he was on you, in you.

Then, when he was done- after he read his Bible on his lap, quietly reading aloud the verses, making a note to skip the fifth chapter of Matthew, verses twenty-seven through thirty.

You would make yourself small. In a feral position with the covers of the marital bed over you. You were a woman now in the town- wedded and bedded. But you wanted to be a child. You wanted to run back home to your father and mother in tears, knowing that a good cry and a little chocolate and tea would make everything better. But no. You weren’t a child anymore. You were a woman wedded and bedded. You were a wife. A priest's wife. A priest's unwanted wife.

You wouldn’t be able to quiet your mind to dream. It would be repeating that question, endlessly, on your lips, knowing it would ruin everything the minute you said it- “Why am I not good enough for you?”

But you wouldn’t speak. A wife never considers herself, she only considers what makes her husband happy. You’d stare at the wall. Waiting for him to fall asleep, tears quietly streaming down your face. You would have melted over the erotic sight of his strong upper body normally- but it wasn’t yours. He wasn’t for you. Not really.

Then, when you were certain he was asleep, you would quietly get up and leave the room.

You ended up wandering to his study. You turned on his lamp by the window. Perhaps you should try to read a dull, intellectual, dense book of his on theology to make you sleepy. But your eyes would only be drawn to the walls.

The green, elaborate wallpaper with vines, branches, and leaves, both golden and emerald. A few white flowers in bloom. You would walk to see more of it.

What struck you most was the image of a white bird with its wings stretched open. It flew over the leaves of various green and yellow branches. Among white and blue flowers in bloom- of a new, exciting life, of promise. And most of all, the animal stretching its ivory wings as if ruled over all. Like it could escape the paper easily, soar over your head, and out the window.

How you wished you could turn into that bird. So you could stretch your wings and fly far away from the town. From him. And leave it all behind for a new place, a new life.

But you couldn’t.

You would go downstairs, past the kitchen, to the main room. downstairs to curl up on the cushions before the window overlooking the wild marshland, the town. And let yourself sob.

Thank the norns Loki called in his deal when he did. You didn’t know what would happen. He’d call in the deal, but by then, it would be too late.

I’m not in that house, I’m in the woods, you reminded yourself.

Giving a deep breath through the woodsy, clean air, you made a mental note. You’d have to give your husband, the one that was your actual husband, who was not a godly husband but a plain old god husband- that long-awaited thank you. You didn’t think you could bear going through the marriage or have the scarlet letter for jilting him at the altar without an escape plan.

You thought you would just stay in Asgard. Take care of the cauldron and Grendel all neat in a little bow. Then things changed.

You would not be that passive, sobbing victim anymore.

You had fought. You managed to take your revenge, completely.

It wasn’t the right thing to do. It wasn’t healthy. But gods, was it freeing.

As you walked further into the woods. A small laugh of relief even chuckled through you. The release, the ridiculousness, and the awe that you had done it- destroyed Will’s ministry, and his reputation, and brought physical harm to both him and Cora all without getting caught.

But…did they survive? That was quite a flame on her. It would be the same for him.

Pausing, touching a tree, you had to think it through. Develop a plan.

If they lived and said something, then the better for you. That would confirm the rumors of the affair, damning both in society. No person would want to associate with Cora at least after that. The visiting council would strip Will of his position with the evidence before them. The superstitious town would be convinced that God had stricken them as punishment for hurting his little Blessed lady. For none knew of your gifts. And none would think you even capable of any act of harm from your reputation as the town’s angel. Besides, none of them knew of your powers. How could even Cora, in her scientific high and mighty mind come up with the solution of why her coat burst into flames when you were far away?

If they lived and said nothing, then at least Will would get in some hot water over what happened.

If they died, then they died. It was their deserving death.

You paused. No, how could you dismiss that? To think- you took two more lives. Not just some nameless bullies, but two people who you met, you knew their names, their histories, and one you loved and were about to marry…you were capable of that! You did something horrible! There was more blood on your hands!

You heard the sound of a branch being stepped on from the distance behind you.

What if Cora survived and ran right after you!? Likely she would. What would you do? With the fury still in your heart, perhaps take out more of her fire and toast her in a place without witnesses until her body dissolved to ash so there would be no evidence. But what if she caught you? You could see her face twisted in her ugly crying and feel her slapping and punching you.

Not that you would have to deal with her. You were headed off somewhere she could never reach. Not even by train.

Taking a deep breath, you let those thoughts of Will and Cora go away. You were done with Aldwinter forever now. Revenge had been taken and was successful. You wanted to see your friends, your in-laws, and your True Love again. You wanted your new home.

You paused in your steps. The trees growing so thick over your head it hid the sunlight and made the woods a little darker.

There was another crunch of feet on leaves. Someone was arriving. No more time for dallying.

You opened the shield. You sent the words clear in your mind.

“Loki…I’m ready to go home…Open the portal. I want to go back to Asgard now.”

You waited one minute. Then another.

But nothing happened. The birds were barely chirping and the air was cold. Shivering, you blinked as you tried not to panic.

“Loki, I am ready now. It’s done. Open the portal, take me back to Asgard.”

Nothing. You heard none of his witty replies or promises or cheekiness. And you saw no portals. Much less Loki. There was only the rustling of the trees.

Did…did he have his shield up? Why? Did something happen in Asgard? You should keep trying.

Then…you heard something- more footsteps.

It was more than one person.

But, you heard more than one footstep. Was it a party of men? In the evenings they would go to the marshes, hunting for serpents and trickster gods with torches, scanning the waters and fields. Some began setting up charms so that their daughters would be safe. Did they realize you were missing and send a search party…

You saw one man, then two, then four. No torches, they were smirking at you like wolves with a plump, injured lamb.

You felt your stomach drop. They were Gerndel’s army.

One stepped forward with short blonde hair and was overly muscular.

“Ah…looks like we’ve caught you. Right where we want to,” he said.

You felt their eyes on your nightgown. Peeking at how your body’s outline could be seen, your breasts hinted at, and feel the air of unwanted lust. And you were one woman surrounded by men.

Terrified, you held out a hand to release fire to them.

But no flames emerged from your hand.

Hurriedly, you tried again. But nothing. Your breaths came fast and shallow and you could feel yourself shaking. They snickered as they walked forward slowly. Knowing no matter what pace they set, they would win.

You retreated, realizing they were going to back you into a tree, as you tried to back into one, they would still keep a steady pace. There was nowhere to run or hide. Bile ran up in your throat. You fought back the urge to cry. You began to gasp for air, seeing their smiles, their eyes bright over you. One unsheathed his sword with a sliiiick, and the blade gleamed brightly in the dark woods. Silver and spotless and ready to be soaked with your blood.

You tried flicking a hand again, but there were no flames. You realized your senses were dulled- you couldn’t feel or hear any presence besides the four men before you and the dark, consuming woods.

“Ah, ah, ah! Someone took a little bit of our old friend’s apples.” The blonde one taunted.

“You’ve…you’ve poisoned me!?” you cried, your voice becoming shrill.

Another, a gentleman with dark brown hair, tall and lanky, shook his head with a half laugh.

“If you dropped dead right now…where would be the fun in that? Oh, not poison. Just a littke Kunigr potion. ”

You remembered the arrow that drained Loki of his magic in Jotunheim. Then you recalled the apple, the only thing you ate today. It struck you…your mother got those apples from a new grocer in town….

It all came into place. Panic made you shake, your throat and chest tight. The brown-haired man lifted his finger, beckoning you teasingly.

“Now…come with us…we can have some fun with you if you don’t struggle. You won’t get a scratch on you…for now. And won’t Grendel be thrilled when we hear who we caught?”

You steadied your breathing. You had to steady yourself- or enough that you could act, that you could fight. Hoping, praying to whatever god was out there, the Christian God, the trickster god, anyone, that your training was enough.

The brown-haired one approached you. Quick as lightning, you punched his jaw and then kicked his groin. As he backed down, his grip on his sword loosened as he groaned in pain. In one brief second, you kicked his hand. His hold loosened and the sword fell. Quickly, you grabbed the sword by the hilt and pointed forward. You were terrified, but you would not give up. Not yet.

“Ah, now, this kitty’s got claws!” the blonde one mocked mocked.

You steeled yourself, pointing the sword. Making your hold steady.

“What, haven’t you considered that you’re outnumbered?” said the third, another brunette with a scar across his face.

You stepped forward, speaking with the powerful venom you could muster.

“Do you expect me to surrender that easily? I will not. I am the Princess of Asgard, beloved wife of the God of Mischief, and third in line to the throne. I may have lost my magic, but I am not untrained in other methods of slaughtering all of you. I have killed, I just killed, and I will kill again. And I will not die here without a fight.”

They all got out their swords.

“That’s enough chatter,” replied the first blonde.

They charged. As did you.

Thrusting the sword forward, gritting your teeth, you stabbed through the gut of one. Blood erupted and he let out a cry. He wouldn’t last long, and you pulled out the sword to hasten his meeting with his maker. As the second tried to grab you, you merely dodged low, his sword through the air. His lower body was left open. You stabbed him through the groin- quickly in and out, blood bursting into gushes as he screamed in pain.

Blood dripped from your sword in its coppery scent. One attacked you and you blocked with your sword, the metal clinging as it stung the air. You swirled around. Stabbing and cutting. Dodging blows and putting up a fight. But they were advancing on you and you had to block two swords, it was harder to keep up.

There were shouts. You turned your head and saw a glimpse that almost loosened your bladder at the sight-

Five more men were coming. Five more of Grendel’s men. You heard the swords being unsheathed and saw them glimmer even in the woods.

They were now in sight and joined their two brethren.

They were right, you were outnumbered. Seven to one. And they were starting to circle you.

Though your muscles ached from the sword, and your nightgown was splattered in some blood-you couldn’t let them win easily. You fought the urge to tremble, to cry. And you held your ground, your sword pointed. You knew your death was arriving sooner with every second, every step of their feet. Your heart hammering despite your aching muscles. You had to keep going. Somehow. Someway. You gritted your teeth and held up your sword to fight until the end. That at least you would face your end with dignity.

They raised their sword to strike at you, and you raised yours, ready to fight this futile battle and-

There was a loud, metallic growl from the distance. A sound you never heard before. So loud, that it rattled the trees. Then another.

Grendel’s men stopped and turned their heads with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but pause in wonder.

It got louder and louder and louder, something was coming. The men looked among themselves. You took their distraction to start to flee, and you made it to a tree when something pierced your field of vision.

Turning back, you saw bright lights.

Their heads turned and they grew pale, holding out arms to block the lights.

One of them grabbed you, dragging you by the collar, almost hoisting you up as you faced him, his eyes glaring into you and his blade ready at you.

“I’ll-I’ll stab you twenty times through your cunt, you little bitch!” he growled.

The sword was knocked from his hand and he cried in surprise. His grip loosened.

You both looked.

There was the sound and two lights ran by with the whirring-it then revealed what it was-

It was the thing Loki told you about. A motorcycle- and a man on it with a helmet- one hand on the steering wheel and the other around a pistol pointed at him.

The man said no reply until a bullet hit him in the shoulder. He let go of you and cried in pain.

You gasped at your rescuer- adn then realized the source of the bright lights-the other thing Loki told you about.

Through the woods, bursting through like a chariot was a car. The men of Grendel all stood, staring agape. But the motorcyclist held up his gun, pointing.

Out from the car, emerged Robert.

“Y/N! Y/N! Hurry- come in!” he urged.

“Get in the car, now!” he cried.

You let out a gasp and could have cried. You hurried to them. The men gritted their teeth and raised swords-

The motorcyclist said nothing as he lifted his weapon and aimed, quickly but steadily. The gun was fired with a loud crack in the air.

One of the goons dropped dead.

Only one of your friends you knew was capable of that, and would come from an era where he knew how to do that-

“Jonathan!” you cried out.

His helmet was still focused his gun raised. His voice distorted, but you knew it was him. Not daring to take it off to give himself a target for them to hurt him.

“The Princess of Asgard with us- let her come with us. And no one gets hurt.”

“YN! Hurry!” Robert urged.

You would not look at the scene as Jonathan began to shoot more at those who attacked. You turned on your heels and ran into the car’s side door, slamming the door shut.

You followed and jumped in. A far cry from any run-of-the-mill carriage you had been! The velvet, soft seats, and big, wide windows and space. You saw the knobs and turns and levers from the front. You covered your ears as bullets rang out. When you peeked back, the men of Grendel were dead.

Jonathan turned to Robert, nodding his head.

Jonathan got out his watch and clicked it.

“Time to go to Heimdall, let’s hurry,” Robert urged.

A portal opened in the woods.

Robert stepped on a pedal, and moved the wheel- he drove through the portal. There was a flash of bright, rainbow light swirling about you.

You landed on the other side, in a golden room. With the night sky in a large window before all. Then Robert hit the brake and parked. Jonathan’s motorcycle followed after.

You noticed a man standing in the center of the room. He walked to you, and at first, you were intimidated. There was an incredibly tall, broad man with piercing yellow eyes matching the gold of his armor and his helmet.

He spoke in a deep powerful voice- he could have been the new king of Asgard and you would have accepted it.

“Well, you both made it.”

His head turned. His golden eyes easily spotted you, not squinting though you were far away. Despite his intimidating presence, his face softened. He gave you a small bow in respect.

“I am glad for our Princess’s safe return,” he said.

“We got her just in time. Can’t blame her for being shaken,” Robert confirmed.

“Yes, I saw it all. Now hurry, all of you. All of the castle is worried for her.”

Robert drove by pulling the wheel, and then the car went down the rainbow bridge. Jonathan’s motorcycle was right behind, whirring along. Looking out, you finally realized- you felt like that white bird in flight at last. Wings stretched out, the beautiful world before you. Not only safe, not only loved- but free.

The blue sky and sun shone. The gentlest summer day. The sea that formed around you in a crystal blue-green. And you almost tore at the outline of the glittering, golden city, Asgard as it got closer, until you were driving through its streets. Passing commoners with astonished faces.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned to the doctor driving.

“Robert! Oh, Robert!” you cried. “You -came for me! You both did!”

Robert looked at you with a gentle smile, the speed of the car steady.

“You don’t have to be frightened, Y/N. You’re with us now- you’ll be fine,” he assured you.

You went over and kissed his cheek chastely. “Thank you!”

“Save some for Jonathan too!” he replied with a wink. He was still Robert. And Jonathan would still be Jonathan. Each of them- your friends, your friends! You were going to see them all again!

Excitement gurgled in you as Robert parked the car outside the palace. The guard's eyes flickered to the contraption, as well as the motorcycle. Jonathan parked it and then took off his helmet, his eyes serious, but his shoulder dipping in relaxation and a small smile on his face.

You ran over and gave him a big hug and he hugged you back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

“I’m glad too,” you said.

“Now, I think it’s time you’ve reunited with your husband,” he announced.

They escorted you right into the palace through the hallways and into the throne room. You were astonished to see so many of them there, sitting and pacing about in worry. Thor and Hal were talking quietly. Thomas sitting on the steps next to Stella, doing embroidery anxiously. Queen Frigga remained as composed as she could as Sif paced around.

They all turned and there were smiles and gasps. They took in your nightgown and the blood and you- alive and breathing and seeming physically well.

At once they all gasped your name and charged into you, saying your name. Sif’s eyes flickered to Robert and then back to you.

“Did you give them hel?” she asked.

You nodded, showing her the bloodied sword still in your hand. “I gave it to all who wronged me back there, and didn’t spare Grendel’s men from it.”

She smirked. “That’s my girl.”

Stella ran forward and hugged you.

“YN! Oh, YN! You poorest thing! You gave us all a fright! I thought I would cry- I thought you would be gone forever! I missed you so much!”

You hugged her back.

“Don’t worry, I got scared-but I’ll be fine.”

Thor at once charged forward. He hugged you and lifted you so your feet didn’t touch the ground. He shook you around, hugging you like an overexcited toddler with their beloved toy.

“SISTER! My dear Sister! You are RETURNED! How victorious! My brother said he missed your signal and it FRIGHTENED him! Why, thank the NORNS!”

Hal patted at Thor and he let you down. You welcomed him with a hug.

“Well, I’m royalty as well, dear lady. You shall have no bows from me, yet the title suits you- to see you returned alive and triumphant!”

You hugged him back. “Hal, thank you!”

You then hugged Thomas as well.

“You gave Loki a scare- all of us.”

“My powers were taken away- they have to come back with time. But I’m fine- Jonathan and Robert saved me before I could get hurt,” you assured him.

Frigga even embraced you. She smiled.

“I hoped you and Loki would both realize how much you loved each other. And I thought I would never see you both happy together…I can’t even speak right now.”

She let go and cupped your face and then kissed your forehead.

“You are of Asgard now, and I welcome and bless your union and you with all of my heart,” she said.

You could have teared up.

“But, speaking of unions…where is he? Where is my husband?” you asked, looking around.

Thor folded his arms.

“He was getting the army of Asgard to go to the forest. He got scared that perhaps Jonathan and Robert wouldn’t be enough- they were preparing to search for you, but-”

You heard footsteps. And several voices.

But one stood out

Though it was a voice exactly like so many in your life, past and present, there was no denying whose name it belonged to. His voice.

“YN! YN!! All of you- stand and run firm! Destroy any who dare touch a hair on your princess’s head! Where is-”

Loki hurried forth, several guards and soldiers of Asgard behind him. His black and green robes with little gold embellishments. Typical of him, but with his black curls, ivory skin, and blue eyes, he never looked so beautiful to you before this moment. His eyes met yours and you paused. He froze, blinking. His boots almost skidded to a halt as you took each other in for a second.

Tears welling up some, you replied in a small voice. “I thought I’d never see you again, darling.”

Loki seemed to turn white, and you saw his hands shake at his sides. He frantically checked the others in the crowd. “Is this some illusion? Did mother-”

Robert clapped your back.

“We got her. This isn’t an illusion, Loki. She’s here,” he assured the god.

You cupped your mouth and he stood, breathing fast, crying tears coming out from you despite your smile. He walked again, faster, hurrying through, as if he would tear through each realm to touch you again.

You ran right into each other's arms. He picked you up and turned you again. You broke into crying again. You curled a hand behind his dark hair, kissing his lips and then his cheek and any part of him. A sound came out of you like laughter.

“Loki- Loki darling, I’m here! I’m right here!”

He broke the hug and then cupped your face.

“Are you hurt? What happened? I lost your signal! The one you promised me!”

Sniffling, you began to recount what happened.

“You were right to be worried, Loki. I was tricked into eating a Kunnigr apple. My magic was drained by the time Grendel’s men cornered me…I held them off for as long as I could. Then reinforcements came. Robert and Jonathan hurried in before I could be made prisoner or worse. They brought me here!”

There were big eyes as the others took in this information.

He hugged you again. You felt yourself shake some, crying, laughing, as if every emotion at once was washing inside you.

“How I missed you all, and…husband–my…my husband! My dear! I missed you most of all! I love you, darling! Loki- thank you! You saved me! You brought me back!”

“I would have torn Midgard to pieces to get you back- I love you, my wife,” he replied.

Your heart bursting at the fresh word, spoken from his mouth instead of in your mind, you kissed him on the lips again. Soft, but eager, demanding. Wanting to touch him, reacquaint with him. And never let go no matter what.

Hal was smiling wide and Stella was blushing pink. Jonathan looked down, trying not to laugh. Frigga merely then began to wave them off with her long sleeves. Turning away discreetly.

“Everyone…I think it’s best we let the couple have some privacy…” she suggested. Everyone gave a farewell smile, with a promise of a return.

Loki only held your hands and hurried you through the halls, the guards not behind you, right to where his chambers were.

“But…Grendel, the cauldron-what will we do?” you asked.

Loki caught you in his arms and you gasped. Carrying you, he led you to the threshold of his private room. He smiled mischievously.

“I think the Grendel matter could wait for a few minutes, don’t you agree?” your true love asked.

[yumiblogs]

Yay I’m so glad you’re back!! 🥰 Can you do a nsfw enemies to lovers fic with hyunjin? ♥️

Sour Gift // Stray Kids Hyunjin Angst / Smut

Masterlist

Y/N was a good friend of Changbin, who happened to be part of the famous boy group Stray Kids. She often hung out with him and the other members, enjoying their music and jokes. However, there was one member who she couldn't stand: Hyunjin. Y/N and Hyunjin never got along, and they always avoided each other whenever they met. They hated each other because of a misunderstanding that happened when they first met, but they never talked about it or cleared the air. One day, Y/N was invited to a party at one of the Stray Kids' dorm (3racha+Hyunjin).

She reluctantly agreed, hoping to have some fun with her friends. But fate had other plans. As soon as she arrived, she saw him sitting on the couch with Seungmin and Felix just talking while the others and more friends were doing their own thing. He noticed her and frowned, making her feel uncomfortable. After the eye contact Y/N felt her heart sink and her anger rise. She hated how after they first met Hyunjin never apologized or even acknowledged how wrong he was for the way he treated her. As y/n headed to the kitchen to say hi and grab a drink, Hyunjin followed behind her. "Hi Chris, what are we playing today?" Y/n asked, As they had their small talk, Hyunjin was on the other side of the kitchen on his phone acting busy.

As Bangchan left the kitchen and y/n stayed to refill her drink, Hyunjin approached her. Intimidated by the sudden approach, y/n didn't move when Hyunjin stood next to her. As she stopped sipping her drink "what" she asked not looking at him. "C.. i... s" Hyunjin said but it was drawn out by the noise in the apartment "huh?" y/n said louder "my god" Hyunjin leaned to the side and grabbed the chips behind y/n "can't do shit" Hyunjin murmured under his breath but still loud enough to hear as the music ended and another song started. "Shut up, such a jerk. Why don't you go back to your phone and leave me alone?" she snapped, walking towards him. Hyunjin rolled his eyes and tossed the chips back onto the counter. Turned around, facing Y/N. His expression was cold and annoyed. "What's your problem, Y/N? I don't even know you that well. You're just a friend of Changbin's, nothing more."

Y/N felt a pang of hurt and frustration. She hated how Hyunjin acted like he didn't care about her or how he treated her, and how he pretended that nothing had happened between them. "Oh, please. You know exactly what my problem is, Hyunjin. You know what you did to me. You know how you hurt me. You don't care about anyone but yourself. You think you're so cool and aloof, but you're really just a jerk. You're not even that nice or friendly. You're just a pretty face with no heart." Y/N expected Hyunjin to lash out, but instead he looked confused. His eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched. He shook his head and clenched his fists. "Come on get over it, it was that big of a deal!"

It was a year ago

Changbin had invited her to a concert where Stray Kids were performing. She was a fan of their music, and she was excited to see them live. She had hoped to meet them backstage, She had even prepared a gift for them, a homemade mini cheesecake for each member as a congratulations for doing a good performance.

But things didn't go as planned. When she arrived backstage, Changbin had to go and deal with something dealing with his microphone, so he left her alone for a while. He told her to wait for him, and he would introduce her to the other members. She agreed, and sat on a chair, holding her gift in her hand. She looked around, and saw that the backstage was empty. The other members were either on the other side of the stage taking to staff or in their dressing rooms. She felt a bit nervous and bored, but she decided to wait patiently.

Then, she saw him. Hyunjin walked out of his dressing room, wearing a black leather jacket and ripped jeans. He looked like a rock star, and she felt her heart raise. He walked towards her, and she felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. She thought he was going to talk to her, and she smiled and lifted her hand up as to wave at him, hoping he would notice it. But he didn't. Instead, he looked at her with a scowl and a sneer. He assumed she was a fan who had snuck backstage, and he was annoyed by her presence. He didn't want to deal with her, and he wanted her to leave.

"Hey, you. How did you get in? You're not supposed to be here." he said, his voice harsh and rude.

Y/N felt a wave of humiliation and disappointment. She felt tears sting her eyes, and she quickly lowered her hand. She realized that he didn't even know who she was thinking she was just a random fan who had invaded his privacy and the other members. Trying to explain, to tell him that she was a friend of Changbin's, and that she had a gift for him and the others. But he didn't listen, he didn't care. He cut her off and started calling for security.

She ran out of the backstage, clutching her gift in her hand. She felt like throwing the gifts away, but she couldn't. She had put too much time into it, and she couldn't let it go. She decided to go home, binge watch series while she ate all the cheesecakes. She eventually told Changbin that she didn’t feel too good and had to leave early.

She never told anyone what happened, not even Changbin. She never gave Hyunjin another chance, either. She decided to hate him, to despise him. She convinced herself that he was a jerk. She avoided him whenever she could, and she treated him with hostility whenever she couldn't. She never forgave him, and she never forgot.

And now, he was standing in front of her, telling her to forget the past and to “get over it” like he didn't care. She wanted to scream, to cry, to hit him. She wanted to tell him everything, to make him feel what she felt. She wanted to make him regret, to make him apologize, to make him suffer. But she didn't. She couldn't. She was too proud, too hurt, too scared. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them and looked at him, her eyes cold and hard.

With a scoff she took one final sip of her drink then proceeded to spill it onto Hyunjin. There wasn’t a lot of soda but enough to drench his shirt. “What the fuck” Hyunjin quickly stepped back grabbing the nearest paper towels while heading to his room to change shirts before anyone saw the whole mess.

After 10-15 minutes passed, y/n started to feel a little guilty as their hate never escalated to physically hurting eachother. Heading over to his room, she knocked on his door but no response. Knocking again, a groan was heard from inside but the door still didn’t open. Y/n had enough and opened the door, making eye contact with a frustrated Hyunjin trying to take off the stain from the shirt while sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What, came to pour more soda on me” Hyunjin stared at you trying to read you. “You started it, how do you expect me to forget the way you treated me when you keep acting like a jerk all the time” y/n leaned against the now closed door to draw out the music and chatter that sounded in the background. Hyunjin stayed silent.

“This, this is what I mean-” y/n walked closer to him “-why can’t you just apologize and admit you were a jerk to me-” now standing a few steps closer to Hyunjin, he stood up and glared at her “it’s been over a year and you don’t even have the fucking audacity to apol-”

Cut off by an unexpected kiss from Hyunjin

As their lips met in an unexpected kiss, a surge of electricity coursed through their bodies. Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her eyes widening in surprise, but soon she found herself melting into the kiss, unable to resist his lips, so soft and demanding, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth. Y/N's hands instinctively found their way to his chest, trying to push him away but eventually giving up, feeling the warmth of his skin she could feel his heartbeat racing, matching the intensity of their kiss.

As they continued to kiss, their bodies pressed against each other, the tension that had built up between them began to slowly burn out. The hate that once was their every interaction was replaced by a newfound desire and curiosity. Hyunjin's hands roamed down Y/N's back, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. The taste of her lips, a mix of sweetness and spice, intoxicated him. Y/N's fingers found their way to his hair, gripping it tightly as she surrendered to the pleasure that coursed through her.

The room filled with the sound of their soft moans, drowning out the music and chatter from the party outside. They were lost in their own world, indulging in the forbidden pleasure that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin trailed his lips down Y/N's jawline, leaving a trail of wet kisses along her neck. Y/N's head fell back, granting him more access as a low moan escaped her lips. His teeth grazed her skin, igniting a fire within her.

With a gentle push, Y/N guided Hyunjin towards the bed, their bodies now intertwined. As they fell onto the soft sheets, their clothes became a burden, and with eager hands, they stripped each other bare. Y/N's body shivered with anticipation as Hyunjin's lips traveled down her chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses and nibbles. His hands caressed her curves, making her arch her back, craving more of his touch.

Without hesitation, Hyunjin's mouth found its way to her breasts, teasing and sucking on her sensitive nipples. Y/N gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as pleasure coursed through her body. The taste of her skin, the scent of her arousal, drove him wild with desire.

Y/N's moans filled the room, urging Hyunjin to push her further towards ecstasy. Each touch, each kiss, brought them closer to the edge.

As their lips parted, a thin string of saliva connected them, Y/N's body trembled with anticipation as Hyunjin's hands explored every inch of her naked form. His touch sent shivers down her spine, igniting a fire within her that burned with insatiable desire. Slowly switching places as Huunjin guided y/n on their back, slowly leaving a trail of kisses followed with hickeys so the lower stomach of y/n.

Hyunjin descended upon Y/N's throbbing core, slowly opening y/ns clit with two fingers as his tongue tracing circles around her Y/N's moans filled the room, an intoxicating melody that urged Hyunjin to push her further. His fingers joined his tongue, sliding inside her wetness with ease. The sound of her slick walls clenching around him only spurred him on, his movements becoming faster and more demanding.

As her body quivered on the edge, Y/N's hands found their way to Hyunjin's throbbing member, stroking him in rhythm with his relentless assault on her core. The feeling of his hot flesh pulsating in her hand only heightened her pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to the brink.

With a primal grunt, Hyunjin positioned himself at her entrance, slowly filling her with his throbbing length. Y/N's walls stretched to accommodate him, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort surging through her. The sensation of being completely filled, of their bodies becoming one, was overwhelming.

Their moans mingled in the air as they moved in perfect harmony, their bodies crashing together as the bed creaked beneath them. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that fueled their craving for one another. With each thrust, Hyunjin hit all the right spots, sending Y/N spiraling into a whirlwind of ecstasy. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red trails in their wake. Their gasps and moans grew louder, their voices merging in a chorus of unadulterated pleasure.

As the intensity built to an overwhelming crescendo, they clung to one another, their bodies trembling with the force of their release. Y/N's walls tightened around him, milking him for every drop of his essence as Hyunjin's hot seed shot deep inside her, filling her with an exquisite warmth. They lay spent, their bodies glistening with sweat and their breaths heavy. The room was filled with a serene silence, broken only by the sound of their racing hearts slowly returning to a steady rhythm. They had tasted forbidden pleasure, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Their naked bodies laid there on Hyunjins bed. Catching their breath they couldn’t understand why all this happened. “Did we just…” y/n couldn’t find the right words “yeah…” Hyunjin couldn’t really explain why either. “I’m… really sorry you know”

Hyunjin stared at the ceiling. “I know I acted like a jerk when we met, It’s no excuse but around that time our security wasn’t that great so fans would just sneak in, sometimes hide in the dressing rooms and I just didn’t want anything to happen to the memb…”

“Im also sorry, I mean I took it too far and I ju-” Hyunjin cut off y/n “no, what you did was justifiable, this past year was justifiable. I deserved it, I should’ve apologized since the beginning, heck I should’ve not treated you like that to begin with really” Hyunjin sat up, hands on his face. y/n followed, before she could touch his shoulder Hyunjin covered y/n with a bedsheet “I forgive you” Hyunjin looked over at y/n who was slightly smiling.

“Well…” y/n got out of bed, leaving the bedsheet slip down her body on the bed “guess I’ll see you around jerk” Hyunjin watched y/n as she put her clothes on. As she grabbed her shirt from the floor she walked over to the bed, leaned over and caressed Hyunjins chin with two fingers “bye bye” y/n said as she stood up again and put her last piece of clothing on before heading to the door and walking out. Hyunjin laid back to take a breather.

“What am I gonna do with her” he said as he smiled to the ceiling.

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==========================================

Hai!

Hope you enjoyed this!

Please like and/or reblog as it really helps me know if y’all like this type of stories.

Don’t hesitate to send me requests or send suggestions regarding my writing skills or story lines 😁

.

If you really liked this story and want to support me it’ll be so kind of you, even just one dollar helps. Thank you for your support! ❣️

Masterlist

[ap41cu5]

can you do joseph x reader when the reader have a nightmare when reader wake up from the nightmare but she doesn't wake joseph up because she doesn't to bother him but he can't sleeping without her and he comfort her

Plagued Dreams

Joseph Oda x F! Reader Rating: Fluff Genre: One-Shot Fluff Word Count: 1173 Short Synopsis: The reader wakes up from a nightmare that used to persist often in the past. The incident causing the nightmare had troubled her for months and she had seemingly recovered from it. But the nightmare returned, and the reader, who didn't want to wake up her fiance (Joseph Oda), begins to have a meltdown in the living room. Joseph hears her cries and immediately goes to comfort her. A/N: im gonna be honest this is not my best work and i am so sorry that i posted this so late but i do hope that you enjoy this nonetheless! i havent had much time to write as usual, and i apologize if this fic isnt as long as you were hoping

“Holy shit, oh my God..” you whispered to yourself, your head aching as you rubbed your temples.

You had just woken up in a cold sweat, gasping for air as the sheets clung uncomfortably to your body.

What the hell?

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had gotten over it years ago, so why did it come back now? You hadn’t even thought about the incident in months. Why was such a tragic memory coming back to haunt you?

It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fault, so why was it that you could never shake the feeling of guilt that washed over you whenever it was mentioned?

You looked over to Joseph, who was peacefully lying beside you, the sheets sloppily thrown on top of him and one of his arms carefully wrapped around your torso. His lips slightly parted and his head tilted, even lightly snoring. The clock on his nightstand read: 3:23AM.

You were always so grateful to be engaged to a man like him. He was smart, had a delightfully dry sense of humor, beyond compassionate, sweet, and such a gentleman. He always had a knack for reading you like a book– like all of your thoughts were written above your head for him to see. You balanced each other out wonderfully, rendering the both of you the perfect team.

You moved to gently shake him, but checked the clock one last time before your hand had the chance to make contact with the resting man. The small lettering beside the time read in all caps: TUE. That’s right. It was a Tuesday morning, meaning you both had work. It wouldn’t be fair to wake him up and have him miss out on sleep because of you. 

Carefully retracting your hand, your eyes still scanning his sleeping form, you gently took the covers off of you and got up out of bed. You gently lifted his arm off of you and placed it atop your pillow, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference as you began to make your way towards the living room.

Carefully shutting the bedroom door behind you, you immediately headed for the kitchen to treat yourself to a cold glass of water. 

The cold liquid made your throat ache as you gulped it down. It was oddly refreshing, and seemed to clear your head during the brief moment. The night was silent, the only sound rushing through air being the occasional buzzing of cars passing through the intersection outside the kitchen window. 

Placing your glass in the kitchen sink, you made your way towards the couch. Maybe watching a bit of TV would help put me back to sleep, you thought. Plopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote, you flipped through a couple channels before finally settling for the news. Since it was three in the morning, you had a feeling nothing good would be on anyway.

You tried as hard as you could to focus on the news, but the incident refused to leave your fatigued, debilitated mind. Images seemed to flash through your head, no matter how badly you tried to think about anything else. Nothing seemed to work. It was suffocating. You hugged your knees as you felt your chest begin to tighten. The low sounds emitting from the TV seemed to fade into nothingness as everything around you seemed to crumble from beneath your fingertips. Your breathing became heavy as you tried your hardest to snap yourself out of it. Tears cascaded down your cheeks and the walls seemed to cave in around you. 

“(First Name)?” The sound of Joseph’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of your anxiety.

He quickly took your side, wrapping one of his arms around your back as his other hand moved to cup your cheek.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you,” Joseph quietly muttered to you as he gently pulled you towards him.

The feeling of his arms around you immediately helped you to ground yourself again. His embrace was warm and his words were comforting. You turned, slowly wrapping your arms around him as you sobbed into his chest. 

Joseph stroked your hair, “It’s alright, you’re alright. I’m here,” he whispered into your ear. 

He laid backwards onto the couch, allowing for you to lay on him as you held him. His scent was awfully soothing, and his warmth only added onto it. His arms were carefully wrapped around your waist as he pulled you in. One arm placed around your hips, the other gently rubbing your back.

“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”

At this point, you were squeezing him. Your head buried in his chest, your legs wrapped around each other’s, his head in your hair. 

It always took you a while to finally calm down whenever you’d experience any panic attacks or meltdowns related to the incident. But Joseph was always there for you, every step of the way. Willing to do whatever it took to help you calm down no matter how long it took. He never grew impatient, not once. 

He grabbed you a couple of tissues to blow your nose with while he wiped away your tears. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up, (First Name)?” Joseph asked, his thumb wiping away a tear as he caressed your cheek.

You sniffled, “I.. I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful while you were sleeping, and– and you’ve had to do this for me so many times already. And you have work in the morning–” “(First Name), I will always be here for you whenever you need me. I love you, (First Name). I’ve never been more sure about anyone else before. You are the most sweet, thoughtful person that I know. That’s the reason that I’m marrying you,” Joseph tilted your head towards him.

You chuckled, “you’re so sweet, Joseph. I love you so much, I really don’t deserve you.”

“You never give yourself enough credit, (First Name). I know better than anyone how amazing you are. I can say with full confidence that you deserve the whole world and more. I love you, (First Name),” Joseph murmured, cupping your cheek in one of his hands.

Taking one of your hands in his, he gently coaxed you back up onto your feet.

With one arm around your waist as he began helping you back towards the bedroom, he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s head back to bed, my love. And after work, why don’t we visit that new cafe that just opened up? It’s been awhile since we’ve gone on a proper date, and I think you deserve the treat,” Joseph gave you a slight smile as he tucked you in.

Climbing into bed beside you, you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist to cuddle him. With your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and one of his hands gently stroking your hair, you felt yourself almost immediately drift back off to sleep. 

[bestofmultiverse]

Crazy wonders (the before and after of life changing events) prologue

Chapters: 1 , 2

Emma D'arcy x Female!Reader x Olivia Cooke (poly)

Let me know if it sounds interesting enough 🤎

Love can make you do the craziest shit. Yes, Emma was well aware of it.

But Emma isn't crazy, they never were,

they were friendly and nice and easygoing enough, but never crazy.

Their life wasn't very crazy as well,

At least before they met Olivia.

Sometimes they thought that it was a bit funny how Olivia was so carefree, the extrovert and lively person she was, while they were more shy and awkward, even anxious at times, because when the two first met they had to pretend to be the complete opposite of who they are.

So, basically, each other.

They become fest friends,

and when Emma and their partner split, they became roommates as well,

And after a while, them - Emma and Olivia- turned into more,

Not just a friendship, but a partnership,

Crazy yet stable enough.

Emma was happy, and it drove them crazy.

Because Olivia was good and kind and they loved her

but sometimes they wish they never met her,

Because something was missing and they couldn't put their finger on what.

And they wondered if they were this happy and confused before they met Olivia.

Olivia on the other end?

She had always been something of a wonderer. Yes, she loved to experience and live and try.

So no wonder she found herself lying awake next to a sleeping Emma, thinking.

She never really gave her sexuality too much thought, she just loved, and that was enough for her.

Before she met Emma, she wasn't against settling down, of course, but only when she'll know that she found the perfect person for her.

Before she met Emma,

She sometimes wondered who will this person be,

will they be a stranger or a friend,

if they will love to hike or stay in the comfort of bed,

Who their favorite artist will be

If they will like dogs or cats or both or none,

And at some point if they'll care for her status, and even - if they'll even knew who she was in the first place.

but when Emma and olivia met it became less of a wonder and more of a statement.

She knew who this person is,

yet sometimes she felt like something was missing, another piece of a puzzle,

and she found herself wondering all over again. Was this puzzle piece supposed to be missing? She knew that feeling, from before, and it was a bit unsettling to have it now, because last time she wondered about it- it was before she met emma

All her life y/n craved for something

Anything really

She felt trapped

In her hometown, and country, and at some point when she left both, In her own mind.

She knew who she was,

A young woman, who craved to live her life freely and settled down in her own terms and not become someone told her to.

And that's how she found herself in London in the first place, as the none British person she is,

It was challenging enough.

The accent was beautiful but people spoke fast and she could barely keep up with them.

Trying not to stare at their lips and hoping it will help her understand without making them feel uncomfortable.

Some even thought she was aiming to kiss them, god help her, she didn't .

The streets were beautiful- but she got lost more often then not.

The weather was horrible,

She didn't know how they could handle the cold like it was just a chill, while she, who lived in a warm place all her life, felt like she was about to freeze to death.

Her job sucked,

She was an artist and a writer and had no idea how she found herself as a waitress in a nasty pub, full with drunk fools who tend to argue over different sport games that no one actually played.

And her flat sucked even more.

Her roommates were horrible and she hated sharing a living space with them, mostly because they couldn't clean to save their lives, and even when someone did that for them, they couldn't even bring themselves to keep it clean for more then a day.

But she didn't care,

I mean, she did care, but she didn't let it bring her down.

she chose this life,

She chose to chase her dreams, because she preferred to be called crazy for doing that , instead of rotting away and wonder who she was supposed to be in the world.

And that was all she could say about the adult independent life she had before she met Emma and Olivia.

[birdo-is-here]

lil bit o writing for those silly little angles that live in my head, in which a character i cannot yet name has a fun time

written in rp format bc we stay silly

no tags needed for this one i think??? pls lemme know if i missed any

[The hook was looped around the demon’s halo, pulling out. The hot pink ring flickered with discomfort, straining to remain intact. The demon made a pained sound, struggling against Azrael’s hold with panicked ferocity]

OKAY— WAIT WAIT LAST WORDS?? ALLOW A GIRL HER LAST WORDS???

[Azrael faltered slightly, only to regard the demon for a moment]

.. No.

[They continued to pull. The pain resumed as the demon felt his very being getting pulled apart. He made another sound of struggle, arms grabbing at Azrael’s arm, though they seemed to have an iron grip]

STOP STOP I JUS— IT'SJUST A QUESTIONITS A QUESTION ABOUT GOD

[Azrael paused, giving the demon a curious look. She heaved for a long moment, the damage to her halo already having done its job]

Okay— okay it’s like— you usually do this to serve God right?? Like you lot always do this for God yes??

[It grunted in confirmation. The hook didn’t move from its place at the halo]

it's just like God is missing now right?? Like most know this yeah???

[It then seemed to grow slightly uncomfortable] … right.

well… Why do you still do this, then? If God isn’t here to receive these services and like… Who are you serving, now?

[Xe seemed to grow more uncomfortable. Xe didn’t answer, so he continued]

Is it like… The humans? To keep the humans safe?

[Xe scowled, clearly offended by the very idea]

Fuck, no. Absolutely not. I couldn’t give two shits about them.

Well then… Who are you doing this for?

[The discomfort returned. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, replaced by the usual glare. Azrael released a small growl as they pulled at the halo again. The demon sucked in a wince, that tearing feeling returning far too quickly]

[But perhaps their heart wasn’t in it anymore, as they stopped. Azrael removed the golden hook with a growl, stepping away from the demon. And then just like that, they were gone]

[After a moment to process, the demon chuckled weakly to herself, her very existence now a painful one. The halo was spared, but it really wasn’t. The damage had already been done. But she had lived, and now she was going to keep on living]

[She had lived, and now she was going to keep on living. She liked that phrase. It felt very hopeful. Keep on living. She was gonna do that. She repeated it in her head as she giggled quietly to herself.]

[His form began to unravel, but he didn’t mind. He was gonna keep on living, and he was gonna do it well. Sometimes that meant sacrifices, was all]

[amive2567]

Ingredients: Katsuki Bakugou x Gn! Reader Contains: violence, Y/n pov, assault, confessions, happy end, blood, cutting, knives, hospitals, Type of order: coffe and hot chocolate (angst to fluff) Words: 1014 Taglist: @loveing-eyes A/n: This is the last chapter, wow. Thank for reading <3 Tommor will the epilogue is coming and with that the series comes to an end.

Masterlist Another love <;- Part 4 ... Epilogue ->

The loud dripping of the leaking water resonated in your ears. It was the only sound that kept you sane. Aiko's Bodyguards had almost beaten you into a pulp. Your wounds couldn't heal properly, and you felt an infection creeping up. How long did they capture you? You didn't know, but it was long enough to make you feel like shit. At least you would die after telling your feelings to the love of your life. Your mouth was dry, and your stomach growled. Your voice was probably hoarse from screaming at the top of your lungs after they kidnapped you. Nobody heard you. You were even stupid enough to inform everyone that you were going on vacation so that no one would miss you. Your tears were already dry. Your wrists were chafed by the shackles, and all you could feel was pain. Aiko's traumatic procedure damaged a rib and most likely resulted in more broken bones. All you wanted was to leave Musutafu and get a new clean start.

The huge door of the storage hall opened with a loud boom. You flinched. "You stupid bitch." Echoed the loud voice of Aiko through the hall. "Because of you, he sent me away. Shopping, as if I cared about his money. All I ever wanted was him. It's your fault he doesn't like me." she yelled and slapped you. The massive steel walls absorbed the loud smack and your agonizing cries. Tears ran down Aiko's cheeks, but her smile was terrifying. "You deserve to bleed, little whore." Now she took out a knife and cut your skin. You hissed, screamed, tossed around, and tried to get away from her. "Please.." Your voice trembled. "Please…Let me go. I didn't do anything." "As if. You stole my man. You stole my perfect future. YOu are the reason I am living this miserable life. You are at fault that he doesn't love me." With each new accusation, Aiko's voice became louder. Her tiny frame trembled, and the knife dropped from her grasp onto the concrete floor. Aiko, like the knives, sank to the ground and wept. A frantic, even horrifying weep. If it weren't for your bruised and bloodied body and soul, you'd almost feel sorry for her.

It took about 30 minutes for her weeping to cease, and she got up  "I'll let you pay for everything," she huffed. Aiko took up the knife and exited the building. "I hope she gets her ass beaten one day." You muttered beneath your breath. Because of the blood loss, your eyes were heavy. You couldn't close them not until someone found you. Sleep seemed just so welcoming. Even though your mind screamed to stay awake, your body didn't listen, and you fell into unconsciousness.

Loud explosions made you rise from your uncomfortable sleep. Everything around you was covered in dust. Painful screams erupted somewhere, but you couldn't make out the right direction. Adrenaline and hope were running through your veins. That could be your chance to get out of this mess. Did somebody finally come to save you? "I am here." you croaked. Your voice wasn't ready yet. Damn it. They had to find you. "Help me. I am here," you screamed louder than before. The explosions stopped instantly, just like the screams. The quietness made you shiver. You raised your head, trying to make something out in the huge dust cloud. And there he was, sprinting through it. Bakugou came running towards you, he didn't even wore his hero costume. "Oh, thank god you are alive." he breathed and freed you from the chains. "Thank you, Katsuki." you cleared your throat. "How did you find me?" "Aiko was so enraged she betrayed herself." he chuckled, but it soon stopped as he noticed how injured you actually were. "I will get you to a hospital," he whispered. "I am sorry for leaving you alone. I am sorry for being so blinded by fame that I made a contract with Aiko's father, so I could be better than Izuku. I lost track of myself and of the person I love the most. I am so sorry Y/n. I love you." Your heart was pumping so fast, it almost burst out of your chest. A bright smile plastered across your face. "Your taste in women is terrible." You chuckled quietly. "All is forgiven, Kat. I love you too," you mumbled as you fell asleep in his arms again, but this was better than on every wooden chair.

The next time you woke up were in a cozy hospital bed. Your body felt like it was flying, but maybe that was just because of the painkillers. On your hand, there was a slight pressure. Bakugou slept on it like a little baby. With your free hand, you rubbed your eyes. "Bakugou hasn't slept well since the whole time you were in captivity. He needs it." whispered Izuku who sat in a cozy chair, while reading the Musutafu Daily. "I am glad he was able to find you." Izuku's smile comforted you somehow. He was always a beam of hope for everyone. "I've never seen him so worried. You really put a spell on him" "Just like he put a spell on me. You smiled. "Shut it Deku, I was totally calm," Bakugou mumbled as he rose up. Not letting go of your hand. "Yeah right." Izuku winked. "I will leave you lovebirds alone. Hero work doesn't sleep." As he closed the door, Bakugou began to speak up. "I know I did a lot of shit the past few months, and I am the reason Aiko kidnapped you. I want you to know that I always loved you, but I was too scared to tell you. I destroyed our relationship. But if the offer to marry when we are thirty still stands, I would gladly marry you." His red eyes were full of remorse. "I forgave you, didn't I? That also meant that I still love you and that I would still marry you. So yes, I want to marry you."

[annikuh]

wait omg noooo makes me sad to see the season 3 of clonehigh was no good… what happened

OUGH ROBYNNNNN DONT GET ME STARTEDDDDD

haters will say I’m just mad bc they wrote Topher out almost entirely (I saw a mutual say he had 16 mins of screen time the entire season…) BUT I feel like overall it just took itself a little too seriously & way too far from what the original show was (which was a big issue in season two, with big character inconsistencies & such, but it was still kinda silly and fun so I could live well enough; CH realistically has no place in modern culture bc the type of show it was originally parodying doesn’t REALLY exist anymore, but it was fun if you didn’t think too hard abt that.)

but even so, by the reboot’s standards, it didn’t even really connect with the 2nd season.

gotta put this shit under the cut bc I went off a lil too much LMAO

(1) they set up a subSTANTIAL amount of time with Abe & Topher, & the season ended with a lot of possible dramatic fallout for the two of them, and the last episode gave him a clear in with the bigger friend group, & then they straight up…didn’t interact in the 3rd season at all. they dropped everything related to that.

(2) they built up so much with the other “principal” type character, Candide, & the entire season ended with Joan being chosen to be groomed to be the next world leader, & everyone mad at her bc she tried to kill all of them. & then that just…didn’t matter anymore. That “world leader” plot line was never touched again, and people stopped being mad at Joan by the fourth episode, so it didn’t even matter.

(3) they wrote both Candide and Topher out almost entirely. both of their characters were whittled down to nothing and did basically nothing. I couldn’t even tell you what Candide did in the season. & there was so much potential for Joan and Topher to interact, bc she joined that stupid fucking outcast group that they gave Topher for NO REASON. but even without that group, like here we have two total outcasts, AND even just taking him at his word, Topher did say he had a crush on Joan, but they did nothing with this at all. WASTE.

(4) they completely started making the weirdest pairings on earth. they put Joan with Confucius for reasons I uhhhh didn’t care for. And they did SO much gay baiting with Abe and JFK to a point that it was actually uncomfortable and very much forced. like I didn’t completely hate the idea of the two of them fostering a closer relationship, but it was VERY pushy and sudden and I just couldn’t handle it.

(5) they’d completely forgotten about Scudworth’s “Cloney Island” plan in the 2nd season which was his main motivation in the 1st season (he wanted to make an amusement park/zoo type attraction of the clones). But they decided to bring it back now, which is dumb as hell bc the last season ended with Scudworth being like “these clones are like my kids, I love them so much” so like what gives.

(6)…no musical episode.

(7) the absolute AMOUNT of new characters in an already VERY bloated cast. They added one new guy for Harriet to fall for who took up a few episodes. THEN literally the most insulting awful one was Mary who was the manic pixie dream girl they paired Abe with bc he wanted to fuck so bad, and she turned out to be…Bloody Mary. like are we fucking crazy what are we doing here. Can anyone hear me? Hello?

Idk the whole season just felt insecure, disrespectful to their own and the source material, lazy, weak as fuck, and god so much more. honestly it just felt like bad fanfic.

bad season‼️ peace and love, but hope it doesn’t get renewed. let it die in peace.

(after I binged it I was so upset I was like “I wish they never made this reboot” & everyone was like “but then you wouldn’t have topher” & I was like “it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” I just pretend like it didn’t happen.)

[krikeymate]

if i ever lost you i would lose myself - chapter 5/10

Chapter 5.

Sometimes you think life can’t get any worse. You’ve already seen your life fall apart; you’ve already hit rock bottom. Then some kid you used to babysit like 10 years ago calls you up and tells you that your sister has been attacked. He tells you it’s your fault. Your past began before you were even born and now it’s caught up with you, with the sister you left to protect.

Well, shit.

But Tara’s alive. Stabbed over half a dozen times and with a broken leg. But alive. Her strong little sister, ever the survivor.

Fuck.

She can’t believe this is happening. How close she had come to losing Tara again, and she wasn’t even there this time. It would have all been for nothing, the past 5 years, the life she had begun to build, it would have all been for nothing.

But she’s alive. She’s alive.

She’s alive and sobbing in your arms and all you can register is her body against yours. You know that you can’t go back now. The dam has been broken, there’s no putting it back and you don’t want to. You’re never leaving her again.

- - -

She finally tells her truth and Tara hates her.

She hates her she hates her she hates her.

She deserves it.

She hates herself.

She spends half the night sitting outside the door in an uncomfortable plastic chair anyway. Richie has to practically drag her back to the motel so she can rest. He tells her she’ll need to be well-rested for when her sister is ready to talk. When. She clings to the word like a lifeline.

- - -

More people are dead.

Sam’s never been more terrified than the moment she realised her sister was alone in the hospital. Injured. Abandoned. A sitting duck.

This was all just some big distraction; the monster is going back to finish the job.

Sam won’t let it.

- - -

She’s almost at the hospital when she calls Richie again. She hopes he’s there. He needs to be there. Tara can’t be alone. If Richie’s there, then Tara has a fighting chance.

It’s not Richie who picks up the phone.

Hello Samantha.

She’s too late. There’s not enough time, fuck, this can’t be happening.

She pulls into the hospital parking lot, but the building seems too far away. Shit, she can’t believe she got Richie into this mess. But, Tara, what about Tara? Did he reach her, is she safe?

I’ll tell you what. You can choose, I’ll only kill one.

She’s not safe.

She can hear a faint sob from the other end of the phone. She wonders if Tara is going to die feeling betrayed by her sister. She wonders if she could live with herself knowing that.

Who do you want to hear die?

Sam’s a proud person, but in this moment she begs. She begs the monster on the phone. She begs the universe. She begs anything and everyone that’s out there that might hear her.

Really?

Please don’t let him hurt her sister.

You can’t save your own sister? All you have to do is say kill Richie.

They’re almost at the elevator and Dewey’s mouthing something to her. Wall? Stall! Stall him.

The noises through the phone are louder now. Tara’s cries are more distinct, the thumping of something heavy being thrown, a pained howl.

What if she doesn’t make it?

Or say kill Tara, And I’ll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time.

Fuck you, she thinks as she begs for her sister’s life.

“Fuck you,” she hears from the phone.

Last chance to save one. CHOOSE.

They’re so close, one more floor. Please, please, please. “Why are you doing this?!”

You want to know why Sam? Maybe it’s because you’re a selfish bitch who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love. Maybe you’re too weak for this franchise.

Oh thank god.

“Maybe you’re right…”

“Or maybe I’m just stalling for time fuckhead.”

Sam wishes she could just collapse where she stood, she felt so emotionally drained from the ordeal. But her sister is lying there on the floor and the monster is still out of the closet. They can’t rest yet.

Tara’s in so much pain. It makes her own heart clench; every whimper, every gasp, every mewl. She would do anything to take this away from her, to take it upon herself. The way she cries, fractured in her arms, will linger in her nightmares for years to come, Sam knows.

They’re in the elevator, they’re safe. Tara’s safe and solid against her chest. Richie’s safe, no worse for wear. And Dewey… he fucking goes back.

And he doesn’t return.

- - -

Tara doesn’t hate her.

She loves her. She still loves her. She doesn’t even blame her. Not for dad leaving, not for being attacked, only for being a coward who ran from her. She can live with that, she can make that up to her. She doesn’t know how, but she will. She would do anything for this girl.

“Sam, you could never be like him,” she tells her, eyes wide and honest.

She really believes that.

Tara never fails to find new ways to crack Sam’s heart open.

She didn’t realise just how much she had needed to hear those words. She wonders what could have been if she’d been honest with her sister from the start.

- - -

Sam tells her they’re going to be cowards and run. Tara’s smile is like the sun.

- - -

“Do you think you can hold out until Modesto?”

Sam knows the answer to the question before she’s even finished asking it. Tara needs her inhaler. Her breathing is already heavier than she’d like and stress has always made her asthma more unreliable. It’s safe to say she’s under a lot of stress right now.

- - -

It should have been obvious.

There were a lot of things that should have been obvious, in hindsight.

But here she is, knife wound in her side and her heart, bleeding on Amber fucking Freeman’s kitchen floor. God, she hates that girl, what did Tara ever see in her? She has to blame herself a little, a lot, she thinks. If she’d been around more then she’d have been able to vet the assholes looking to take advantage of Tara’s kind and caring nature. She’d have had a say. Tara had always chosen Sam over Amber, but she had to go and fuck that up by removing herself from the equation.

And Richie.

That son of a bitch.

She knew it was too good to be true. She’d spent their entire relationship waiting for the other shoe to drop, and here it is. He’s a goddamn lunatic obsessed with some shitty slasher movie.

And he’s the reason her sister got hurt.

She vows to kill him for that, somehow.

- - -

She does.

And Tara chooses Sam over Amber.

She holds her hand all the way to the hospital. She’s never letting go again.

[gotta-pet-em-all]

Hiya! Your intro says you like media analysis so I was wondering - watched/read/listened to/etc anything good lately? And/or got any recommendations? (OOC: this is freeform, answer it however floats your boat! Or if it doesn't float your boat, absolutely no worries, you can delete it! /gen)

Ough, that's a good one!

Since the delcatty's out of the bag, I guess I can be more open about how Plasma affected me. Since I was taken in so young, I didn't have much opportunity to learn how to think for myself, and I struggled with bodily awareness and identifying my own emotions. But... stories helped me realize how to feel again. I would use warrior skitty comparisons to try and contextualize my own feelings at first, but it wasn't enough.

Media analysis started as a project my therapist gave me, since I was getting frustrated with my inability to identify my own emotions, and our sessions were sort of hitting a plateau. Which is to say, they asked me how my day was, I yelled that I didn't know and started crying, and I'd spend the rest of the session on the couch snuggling my therapist's vulpix. (Baby Fluff was not very emotionally stable lol)

So I started looking for stories. I got a bit into vocaloid-- a couple favorites of mine are the medical anomaly, rolling girl, irony, yellow, and good kid medicine. It gave me words for what I was feeling, proof I wasn't the only one to feel these things. Suddenly I wasn't alone, I wasn't crazy or exaggerating, I had songs that spoke to me. Someone else out there knew what I was feeling and said it better than I could.

Hatsune Miku got me through some rough times, y'know? And the warrior skitty AMVs-- gods, that made up the rest of my music taste. I was never very good at art, except maybe in trying to copy the anatomy drawings because I was bored, but there were incredibly talented people out there. They told brand new stories, or put a twist on existing ones. I never knew there were so many stories out there!

And then there was anime. I couldn't handle anything with fanservice-- bear in mind at that point, I hadn't yet had The Talk, I just knew it made me uncomfortable. So I mostly watched kid's shows, and there was one magical girl show that looked cute.

It was, ah. Madoka Magica, if you're familiar with it. But the grief and hopelessness, the way the girls try to cope with pain and being fundamentally unsuited for something, the loneliness... and later, it's revealed that one character, who actually looked a lot like me before I cut my hair, had a heart condition and low self-esteem. She felt useless, she...destroyed herself for a chance to save someone who was kind to her. And then the bittersweet ending-- that the world can have love and hope even if it sucks. It made me think... maybe it was okay for me to live. It gave me a lot to think about, and holds a special place in my heart to this day.

I started making progress in therapy again. I'd walk in and say something like, "I think Mami Tomoe probably has a lot of guilt because she survived and her parents didn't" and somehow the conversation would turn to the fact that I wasn't taking painkillers like I was supposed to. And maybe it was because I felt like I didn't deserve it.

Just the weak herbal stuff back then, mind you, because ibuprofen scared the shit out of me, but... sometimes I would talk about a character and realize I was seeing myself through them, talking about myself through them, and I finally had a voice. They gave me a voice. So I want to help their stories be understood in return.