#love how there’s a nowhere to go but this frozen fucking box because it’s only colder out there

[samwisefamgee]

lmaooo the high is 7 degrees today and people keep messaging me like “omg I hope you’re ok don’t get too cold 😭🥺 uwu” yeah I’m not ok and it is extremely cold and also everything else is bad but thanks anyway

[ya-zz]

Hi, I am back. Work be killing me, but I’m here to kill everyone else.

Ramattra and reader.

Similar to one of your personal pieces where reader has to repair him, but they mess up somewhere and his memory is corrupted of them so he hates reader, despite them fixing him.

I will personally send you a curveball to put in there too.

You’re welcome. Enjoy.

Yikes, you're back-

Fr tho, this was fun, but not because I didn't have to write some of it- Alternate ending vibes.

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1707 (1243 newly written)

A/N: I was told to use part of a personal fic for this. It's like an alternate ending so to speak.

Read the original here

You had no idea how much time had passed before Angela had let you go. Hanzo walked with you to the workshop to make sure you were truly okay before leaving you for a training session with Genji.

Upon entering, you are met with what you had left. Ramattra was still standing there with no power. Some dust had begun to settle on his chassis so you made quick and gentle work of brushing it off.

Checking the monitor, all tests had come back green. All was good. You direct the current through again.

Orange.

Red.

Switched off.

You scream. Like actually scream, throwing a piece of scrap metal at the wall.

"Three weeks of work for nothing!" Tears stream down your face as you keep running the current but was getting nowhere. "Fuck, what the actual hell am I supposed to do..."

Omnics didn't come with an on button.

…

Wait…

You rummage through the spare parts, a small piece rattled at the bottom of the box. Despite feeling somewhat relieved you missed something, you were utterly pissed off with yourself for actually missing something.

Pondering for a moment, you realise where this piece belongs. A small hole underneath his back plate, hidden among cables and wires.

Sonofabitch…

After about another hour of fucking about with everything in his back, you had the piece inserted and flipped up.

Reassembling his back, you head over to direct a current.

Orange.

Red.

Blue.

You could hear hissing which meant his fans were working. A small digital noise escapes from the omnic as his arms twitch, head tilting to the side.

You stand there, body frozen.

"Ramattra?"

His head tilts back up, now directly facing you.

Nothing was said for a moment. The two of you just staring at each other.

“I demand you release me.” He says and his tone was serious. 

“I have some final checks to do before I can let you go-” You attempt to explain. 

“My systems have come back intact.” He states. “Release me this instant.” 

You stare at him blankly. He was never this rude to you before, what has gotten- 

“Oh no…” You mutter, rushing over to the computer to run a quick file check.

“Human!” He rattles against the wires and restraints he was bound by. 

The panic and fear rise within your body as you look at the screen. 

[ MEMORY FILE CORRUPTED ]

“Why…?” Tears prick your eyes as you stare at the computer screen. You ignore the shouting coming from behind you as you run diagnostics, trying to find out why and how it got corrupted, why is it only the memory file that is corrupted? 

Everything else was intact. His HUD settings, system files and drives were all working perfectly. 

Something shattered on the floor which startled you, causing you to turn and face Ramattra. He was approaching, and fast. The stark white faceplate you had grown to love looked menacing, intimidating as he took quick and calculated steps towards you. 

Then your stomach drops. You were cornered. The only escape was behind him and you didn’t take a liking to jumping out of the window… and the delivery shaft was on the ground floor. Perfect.

“There is no escape, human.” His hand grabs you by the throat, squeezing tightly. “What did you do to me?” 

Your hands grab and scratch at his arm. “Let- Let go of me.” Through struggled breaths, you speak to him, tone calm and hopeful, hopeful that he will let go. 

“What-” his grip got tighter, “did you do to me?” 

“Nothing, I swear-” 

“Where am I?” He glares at you, optics looking down at you, watching the panic rise, the heat in your face getting higher as the blood burns inside. 

“My workshop.” Tension was building quickly in your head and your chest was getting tighter as you continue to struggle for air. “Please-”

His grip loosens slightly, enough for you to gasp and choke but he doesn’t let you go. “Pitiful.” He spits. 

“Ramattra, please-” Attempt one. He has to remember. 

He cocks his head to the side as he processes your words before he hums. “How do you know my name?”

System settings were intact.

You stare at him, hands dropping from his arm. “What… What do you remember?” With that question, you hear his fans pick up speed, a little noisier than you remember. 

“Shambali. My brothers. Brother Mondatta and Zenyatta.” He halts, servos twitching on your neck. “Where are they?” 

“Zenyatta is here.”

“Brother Mondatta?”

“Mondatta…” You trail off. It had been several years since Mondatta’s assassination. You feel his hand squeeze. “Mondatta was killed a few years ago.” 

Ramattra freezes. “That cannot be right.” 

“I’m sorry, Ramattra.” You look up at him with sympathy. 

Something clicks within his system, his hand tensing without him commanding it to. His vocaliser stutters with static and his optics going in an aperture frenzy. The grip on your throat tightens to the point you feel something snap, and pain shoots up. 

Blood pools in your mouth, dripping down onto his hand. 

Your gargled noises and attempts to free yourself break Ramattra free of his system glitch and he drops you immediately. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud as you cough up the blood that had seeped into your lungs. 

Despite the pain you were in, you manage to sit up, sitting with your back resting on the filing cabinet. 

Ramattra kneels down, head tilting to the side as he examines you. He sees the panic within your eyes and almost feels bad. 

“Are you certain brother Mondatta is dead?” 

You nod, not being able to speak. 

“Do you know who killed him?” 

You shake your head. 

Ramattra watches you, looking for any signs that you might be lying. When met with truthful answers, he looks down as his systems work overtime. 

“I-” He starts before looking back up. “I am sorry for what I have done to you. May I?” He reaches his hand forward, noticing how you flinch back. Ramattra stops for a moment before reaching further, fingertips touching your bruising neck. 

“I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I cannot place you.” He tilts his head up, looking at the computer screen and seeing his system. He notices the corrupted file is slowly repairing, which means that the task he set off within his own system is slowly working on it. 

He watches as your eyes dart around, from him to behind him, to the left and right of him. The panic was still high, body still shaking. Systems show that you’re bleeding, a crushed throat but it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was. 

Ramattra stays silent as he watches you, yet without his cowl and… ‘clothing’, he looks like the standard R-7000 unit. He is intimidating, even more so as he watches you without any movement or sound. 

When the computer pings, you don’t move and keep your focus on the omnic who was still kneeling in front of you. 

“Unfortunately, it seems part of my memory file is corrupted.” He finally speaks. “I remember everything, but I still cannot place you.” 

You smile weakly, tilting your head to the side a little and wincing. “Its… Okay.” you manage to say through the pain. 

Before Ramattra had a chance to respond, the door to the workshop slams open, Angela and Zenyatta rushing in. 

“Athena made a distress call.” Angela rushes over to you and gasps at your condition. 

“They are fine.” Ramattra states. 

“Brother?” Zenyatta appears behind him which causes the larger omnic to stand and face him. “What happened?” 

Ramattra stutters, looking back down at you with  heavy feeling in his chest. “I hurt them.” 

The room fell silent. 

“What?” Angela looks up at the taller omnic. 

“My system went on the fritz and I crushed their throat.” 

“Your system doesn’t just go on the ‘fritz.’” The medic turns her attention back to you, gently turning your head to face her. “Look at me, [y/n].” 

“Accident…” You mumble, only to be hushed. 

Ramattra looks down at the floor before turning his attention to the monk. 

“I am sure it was.” Zenyatta speaks up. “Brother Ramattra would not hurt you, [y/n].” 

“[y/n]...” Ramattra repeats your name, looking off to the side. “[y/n]...” 

“Brother?” The monk looks up. 

“I do not know a [y/n].” Ramattra says but then he looks back to you. “I still cannot place you.” 

You smile at him. 

“[y/n]... Such a unique name.” He kneels back down and offers a hand to you. 

You could feel the medics eyes on you as you reach up and take his hand. 

“Allow me to make up for the damages I have caused.”

He doesn’t say, but there was a transmission that played within his system.

[ Memory: Repair log, day 10 ]

"Despite you being a pain in the ass sometimes, you're alright. Fuck, you should've seen how heartbroken Zen was. It hurt me too, you know. If this doesn't work, I will never forgive myself. I don't think Zen will ever get over it either... If you're listening, Ramattra, please wake up... I don't think you understand that you have people here who actually want you back, and not for your strength. I'll miss you if this don't work. I'll miss seeing that damn face of yours and your snarky comments." You laugh. "You always made me smile. Even that day you came in with Zen. You didn't see but when you left I was super happy you trusted me. It was the very first time you let a human touch you. I heard from your brother you hadn't even let any other human touch you before I did…

Hey, Ramattra... you're welcome here anytime. Even if it's just to talk."

Between the glitches and static, the voice matched yours and the hatred he had felt for you when he turned on in that workshop had subsided. 

Ramattra may not remember you, but he was ready to fix his mistake and make new memories with you, ones where he would remember you, ones where he would protect the files from never being corrupted again. 

[bellatrixscurls]

“raspberry” ☁️ d.m. x t.n x p.p.

warnings : smut, daddy kink, fingering, oral, dom!draco, switch!pansy, switch!theo, sub!reader, fem!reader.

summary : you and your lovers go on a picnic, but things take a turn when they become more and more attractive.

word count : 5.7k

a/n : it was pretty long already, but might make a part two if you want!

“theo, love, give y/n/n the raspberries from the basket, please” instructed pansy, her eyes flicking to theo’s for a second before focusing back on cutting some kiwis for the fruit salad.

theo did as told, opening the basket and grabbing the box of raspberries, placing them on the spot beside you. but you were too preoccupied to notice that, as your eyes trailed from pansy’s hands, down to her lap.

her thighs were exposed, her dress almost letting you see her panties as her eyebrows pushed together, eyes and hands focused on the fruits. she was so beautiful, more beautiful than other days. you’d convinced her not to straighten her hair this once, so it was wavy, and natural. the sun was emphasazing the beautiful shade of green of her eyes. in conclusion, she looked like the most beautiful goddess.

as soon as she was done with the fruits, she placed the now full bowl beside her and laid back on the blanket, her curls falling around her head perfectly. “what’s wrong, baby ? you like raspberries” she told you as soon as she noticed your frozen figure and the untouched raspberries, a big pout on her lips.

“like y-you more” you mumbled, looking down at your lap as you began fiddling with your fingers, your cheeks now burning red.

she narrowed her eyes in confusion, looking at the two boys to see if they understood, but found that they were just as clueless. “you all subby, my love ?” draco asked from beside you.

you nodded, leaning into his touch the moment his palm cupped your burning cheek. “wanna make you feel good” you said, your attention now fully on draco as you stared into his silver eyes.

pansy nudged theo, who cleared his throat suggestively, making you and draco turn to look at him, “how ‘bout we make you feel good, princess ?” he suggested, his loving, yet lustful gaze on you as draco gently laid you on your back.

you didn’t want any release yourself, and only wanted to see your lovers in pleasure, but the moment those words left theo’s mouth, you found yourself nodding vigorously, your muscles relaxing against the thin blanket.

“yes, please.”

pansy gave draco a knowing look, as he was usually the one to degrade you and tell you how disobedient you were.

“legs spread, m’love. please” theo cooed softly, his fingers caressing the inside of your thighs. you obliged almost immediately, pushing your legs apart as your pink dress rode up, revealing your panties. theo stayed there for a moment, admiring the sight before him as he continued to squeeze and caress your soft skin.

pansy pushed past him, so she was now before you, her soft hands replacing theo’s. “gonna eat you out now, yeah, baby ?” you nodded eagerly, whimpering a small ‘please’ as pansy chuckled, leaning closer to you and whispering, “daddy and theo don’t know how to, do they ? mommy does it best, hm ?”

she was playing with your mind, while trying to rile the two boys up, knowing they could still hear despite her soft, quiet tone, “i don’t-” “excuse me, pansy ?” rang theo’s offended voice as his hand flew to his heart, holding his chest, “one, you can’t just steal someone’s meal like that, it’s fucking rude” you giggled, watching intently as the usual competition between the two started to peak, “and two, i’m better than you.”

pansy scoffed, clearly amused by her boyfriend’s words, “well, i’ll have you know, theo, that y/n/n here said-”

“fucking enough!” draco interrupted, bringing everyone’s attention back on him as he glared at the two, “who even gave you permission to eat my baby out, hm ? ‘cause i didn’t and she sure as hell said that she wants me, not you” his voice was stern as he regained his dominance over the two.

they watched him with wide eyes, now submissive to him as their heads dropped, avoiding draco’s gaze at all costs, “yes, daddy.”

“now, i’m gonna eat my pretty girl out, and you two better take care of her while i do” instructed draco, his hand never leaving your cheek as he gave it one last stroke before moving both of his hands to the hem of your dress.

his pale fingers tugged lightly at your panties as his eyes flicked back to yours, “can i take these off, pup ?” he asked, a genuinely worried expression on his face as he searched for any trace of hesitation. your eyes widened slightly — draco isn’t someone who usually asked for consent, because he knew that your safe word was in place, “pup ?” you finally nodded, letting him take off your underwear.

draco pulled a needy whimper from you at the feeling of him blowing cold air against your sensitive cunt, making you buck your hips slightly so you were met with his warm, slightly parted lips, “daddy, please. i want it so-” but not letting you finish your begging, his mouth attached to your dripping cunt aggressively, nibbling at your clit and causing you to look where you two were connected.

his face was nowhere to be seen, buried deep into your cunt and focusing in making you feel good, "o-oh, daddy!" you whined between shallow breaths, pushing his head even closer to your cunt. a few more whimpers from you, and draco’s content hums that sent shivers through your whole body, and theo felt like he couldn’t take it anymore.

the way your breasts were bouncing with every thrust of draco’s tongue made him go insane. and risking punishment, his lips wrapped around your already hard nipples, sucking gently while his hand took care of your other nipple.

and that only seemed to add onto your pleasure, as your hand went down to gently tug at his soft hair, while the other was scratching at the back of his neck. “so good, m’love. taking care of me s-so well” you whispered in theo’s ear, earning a wave of pretty noises from him — whines, to be exact.

feeling yourself at the brink, you knew just what you had to do. and even though you struggled a bit because draco’s beautiful eyes were watching your every move, you still somehow managed to say it, “c-can i please cum, daddy ? please, need it so bad, want to- oh god!” once again, you were left speechless and breathless as draco’s thumb circled your clit, all while his tongue was pistoning in and out of your tight hole.

and your worries were taken away when he gave a firm nod, closing his eyes when you finally let your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his cock as his left hand was firm on your lower stomach, holding you down. “daddy! theo! mm- ‘s s-so good, merlin!” you cried out as you came hard, pushing theo closer to your chest as the boy struggled to breathe through his nose.

after several seconds of you trying to calm down after your mind blowing orgasm, draco removed his mouth off you, gathering all of your cum from his chin and sucking it from his fingers, as you watched with lustful eyes.

but still, in your foggy mind, something was wrong. you could sense it, but not fully understand what was wrong.

and then it clicked. pansy.

draco too, looked over his shoulder to see pansy just standing behind him, crouched down, frozen in place as she watched you three with wide eyes. the boy crawled to her, taking her hands in his as he brought her knuckles to his mouth, kissing them softly, “s’not nice being bad, is it, bunny ?” he asked, to which she shook her head, a couple of tears almost leaking out of her eyes as her vision became blurry, “you wanna be good for daddy too, baby ? look what y/n/n got for being so good for daddy” his words caused your girlfriend to look up at you, blinking blearily as she let the tears wet her warm cheeks.

“wanna be good too, daddy” she said once her eyes were back on his, and draco smiled sweetly at her. you were confused by how subby she got for him, keeping in mind that she was dominating you just minutes before.

“good bunny” draco stroke her cheek, as his other hand wiped away her tears, “go to theo and let daddy see how good you can be, the two of you.”

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[bepisbee]

So. I have another brain go brrr au idea very very modern Vidow they/them Vio this ones a bit odd?

Tldr: Vio's an ai robot who gains a soul (and the heros spirit) of this era and falls in love with their technicion, Shadow, whose son of the company that turns out to be evil and they have to work together to save the world. More under the cut for details and stuff

Sorry for spelling issues or pronpun inconsistencies i made this on mobile and then decided to make it they/them Vio after writing a good chunk.

Shadow is the son of the head of a robotics ai corporation. He's a punk with horrible grades and attitude but stupidly fucking smart. Genius smart. V10137 (violet) is the latest and only model to function as intended. Only one day they malfunction but not how anyone would expect. You see there was a lot of debate around that time involving the hero's spirit and where it might end up as it's been foretold to come in this era. It does not, however, end up in a mortal hylian being. 

One day on the main work floor they are walking V10137 and Shadow is forcibly dragged along bitching about how boring they are, they're just a stupid robot it's not like they'd actually have interest feelings ect. V10137 starts getting uncharacteristically snippy back until they cut themself off and grab Shadow tugging him to their chest tightly. A frozen second where his heart beats super loud and is surprised at how warm they felt. Then Shadow of course freaks out because none of this is possible within the limits of their programming when a large something (balcony? Dropped metal box? Smth) falls heavily into the floor where Shadow had just been standing. Outside of their physical capabilities and program they had saved his life.

That's when he started calling them "Vio" or "Violet '' instead of the long numbers. Lots of little things happen after that aren't programmed in: humming a tune they heard Shadow listen to, showing interest in learning subjects outside their parameters/subjects they shouldn't have any reason to even know exist. Shadow grows fonder of them, going so far as to personally take up the mechanical and technical upgrades and repairs disallowing anyone else to touch them.

 (After an awkward intimate moment when Shadow first had to repair something on the insides like wires or a board and Vio mentioning they felt it when the technicians were a bit too rough on their circuitry. Sheepishly asking him to be gentle with them but only while no one was around. Also something not programmed into them: pain).

Plot twist it turns out Shadow's father is evil and has been spying on homes and planning to use the advanced ai robots like Vio to enslave his country. I haven't really thought much past this for that plot other than a few ideas about Shadow sneaking Vio out for dates and making them working equipment to seem more alive. Eating, drinking, other equipment ;)  They totally develop taste buds on their metal tongue before this happens which inspires Shadow's idea for it. (See below lol)

 Shadow: working in their mouth doing stuff maybe installing artificial teeth becuase they look fucking scary without them? And so they can develop speech with an actual mouth making sounds instead of a box.

Vio: "..................." awkward stretched silence. "Why do you taste like car oil and butterscotch?"

Shadow: "????? Fucking excuse me? W h a t?" How do they know what that tastes like? (They took a soda from Shadow once. Even though no food or drink is supposed to be allowed in the labs Shadow did it all the time. They couldn't consume it though, there was nowhere for it to go, but they still swished it in their mouth to see what all the fuss was about.)

Maybe the other color heroes come in at some point as previous versions of Vio?

R35: made for childcare. Malfunctioned when introduced to cooking can cause fire from hands initially for cooking purposes. scrapped due to arson lawsuit

81U3: Sparring model, fighting levels broke and became very aggresive and competitive, scrapped for inibility to cease at humane ending point

6R33N: the first ever model, scrapped for inneffective building and ininbility to upgrade not much is known about this model

Shadow fixes them all up after making an HQ to fight his evil dad (Zant? I do like Twilian Shadow) in the old disposal room so they have easy access to parts

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[copias-thrall]

How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕

Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!

This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 

Enjoy 😘 

It wasn’t anything big.

Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.

***

Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.

(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)

Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.

***

A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.

“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.

“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”

You’d paused your game.

“Bad shit?”

He’d waved you off.

“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”

He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.

“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”

You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.

This wasn’t against you. It was for him.

When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.

“But if you want—”

“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”

You’d unpaused your game.

“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”

He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.

“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”

You had. Twice.

***

Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 

He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.

While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.

“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”

You’d been careful not to seem too eager.

“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”

He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.

“Why ’’ya think I told you?”

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)

“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”

He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.

Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.

What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.

***

So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.

Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”

Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 

***

A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.

He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.

Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.

“We still on for Saturday?”

He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.

“Yeah.”

“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”

His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.

“Yeah, why not.”

***

That morning, you wake up happy. 

Mary will be over soon.

You roll over and grab your phone.

When should I expect you? :-* 

It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.

An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.

not 2day 

goin upste 2 show 

You blink.

What show? Didn’t we confirm? 

yeah. got me thinkin 

why no show? 

so i chked 

i missed one 

gotta do it 

Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.

But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 

save em 

ths is impt 2 me 

We’ve had this planned for weeks. 

i thot u suprted me 

on a bus cnt tlk 

You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.

And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.

But…

It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.

How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?

You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.

Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.

When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.

***

Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.

When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.

The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.

You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 

Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.

It’s both better and worse than you expected.

You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…

The texts to and from Mary are ugly.

Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.

You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.

Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.

You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.

***

Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.

You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?

The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.

The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”

You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).

***

Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.

Not that you’re in a relationship.

So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.

You gape through the peephole in shock.

“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”

Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.

“Mary?”

“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.

You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.

You close the door and stare back.

He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”

What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”

He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”

This…isn’t what you’re expecting.

“I…what?”

“Can we sit down?”

You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.

He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.

“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”

You nod.

“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”

You don’t nod.

“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”

He angles his body toward you.

“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”

Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.

There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.

“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.

“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”

So this is it.

Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.

“I understand,” you say flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.

He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.

“But I want your shit in my life.”

You squint your eyes at him.

“But what I said…”

He grasps your hands in his.

“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”

Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.

“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”

He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”

Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.

You curl in on yourself.

“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”

You blink at him. 

What? 

“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”

“What?”

“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”

You uncurl.

“That…’what’ was me?”

He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.

“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”

“Mare—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.

“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”

“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.

Mary actually blushes.

“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”

You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.

But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.

“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”

That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.

“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”

He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.

You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”

His face contorts, and your heart sinks.

“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”

Mary gives you a complicated look.

“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.

He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.

“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”

You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.

“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”

Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.

“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”

He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.

“I…just…how can I believe you?”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.

“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

And yeah. Ok.

[roger-that-cap]

right where you left me

summary: this is the fourth prompt of @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s summary challenge! this idea kind of went a little crazy on my part, but the prompt is: remember when you said you’d marry me? today’s our wedding day and you’re not here to see it. 

warnings: y’all, i really said that i didn’t write angst and then made cardigan, and then this after one serious talk with @teenwonder - yeah, so this is angst? i wrote this while extremely vulnerable so this is very messy- deepest apologies

note: yes, the title is a taylor swift song. it is a must listen if you haven’t heard it, please!

word count: this is literally a baby, the shortest thing i’ve ever written- 1.4k

also guys, i got to 300 followers sometime last night- thank you!! i’m so glad that other people are enjoying my stuff, it’s such a great feeling.

If you had known that one person wasn’t coming back after retrieving the soul stone, you would have gone with Natasha instead of letting Clint go, and you would have forced her to let it be you. At least, that was your main thought for weeks and weeks, until the hole in your heart grew bigger and the rock on your finger grew almost too heavy to carry. Then, after your anger at her for leaving you in the dark and alone faded, you realized that it was just sadness. Nothing but. And for a while, it seemed to be going on a steady incline, and nothing was even close to getting better. 

You woke up every morning in emotional pain. Every morning, the right side of the bed was cold. Every morning, there was a lack of eyes on your face, and of feather light touches going down your back. There were no whispered Russian words or sweet nothings spoken in English. It was just you and no one else, and you could have never imagined that peace and quiet could have ever been so destructive. You would never be over the fact that it seemed like everyone had gotten their loved ones back, clicked right back into place like they never left to begin with, but you were stuck. Stuck in time, stuck in emotions, stuck with your body still aging but your heart never moving on. You were on a spinning platform, watching everyone grow old and renewing old vows and having kids, and you couldn’t get off. You would be there for the rest of your life, right where she left you. And then, that was when you took your original thought back. 

You would have never been able to leave her in the amount of sadness that she left you. 

You knew that she was always self-sacrificing, no matter how much she liked to pretend that she wasn’t the sort of team player that the world needed. It showed in the way she spoke about certain topics, the way she always secretly cared for the underdog, how she always stood up for recruits trying to prove themselves,  and even how she always watched out for the little guy and stuck her neck out for the people she knew needed a little more help than others. Hell, she met you by sticking her neck out for a stranger. You were fighting a man inches taller than you who had a knife swinging at you so wildly that you were sure that he was actually going to get you with his manic jabs. She came flying in out of nowhere without a sound like some sort of battle angel, and before you even realized who she was, she stepped in, took a shallow stab for you, and then dropped him so quickly that you were scared he was dead. 

  She sported that scar for the rest of her life, and at first, it brought shame to you. It made you feel guilty; knowing that your weakness caused another person to wear a scar on their body. Especially her and her body, because she was flawless. Because as hard as she seemed, she was beautiful inside and out, and she didn’t deserve to have any scar of any kind. As your love grew on, things changed, and that godforsaken scar became the flame to your hovering moth. Your fingers always managed to find it, even over her civilian clothes or tactical suit, and your lips always brushed over it when the lights were out and the air was thin between the two of you, when all there was was you and her and the candles that burned on the other side of the room. 

Now, you couldn’t imagine not wanting to see that scar. All you wanted was to trace it with your fingers even though you knew every single puckered spot that hadn’t healed correctly, and every curve of the scar itself. You couldn’t think of a more peaceful scene than placing light kisses on it and then looking her in the eyes, watching her smile that pretty little smile she did every time, the one that said that she would jump in front of the knife a thousand times over again. 

 So, yeah, you knew that she was self sacrificing. But you would have never thought that she would leave you in shambles. And shambles was what you were in as you sat in the apartment, the one that you used to share that you had nearly cleared out with the help of a pitying Sam and Maria Hill, in your beautiful white gown that you were so certain matched the one that Natasha had picked for herself. 

You still hadn’t seen it. 

  You were in the entire outfit. Your shoes were strapped on lazily, your veil was pushed back and crinkled, your mascara was running, but your dress was perfect. Your dress was frozen in time, stuck in a day that it had never even seen play out. Your sobs echoed louder than any laughter in the apartment had now that all the picture frames and decor had been torn down. 

  She was supposed to marry you. That was the promise that the both of you made when she got on one knee after the best day at Coney Island, surprising you only because you had a black box in your pocket, too. You were supposed to marry Natasha Romanoff, and your wedding day was here, knocking loud and proud, standing on your doorstep. It was the day, the one that was staring at you in the form of the glaring pink sharpie that you two had used to circle the day on the calendar. The calendar was the only thing still up in your apartment, as if you could ever forget the date. 

Suddenly, the dress that fit you perfectly began to feel tight. The necklace that you picked because it was elegant and light felt heavy around your neck, like a collar of sadness preparing to choke you at any second. You stood up, ready to take it all off and throw your dress and all of it off of the top of Stark fucking Tower, but then the heels that were your perfect height felt too tall. You collapsed back onto the couch, bawling your eyes out and whispering her name like a prayer over and over again, like it would bring her back to you, standing in a radiant white dresses that you could have only dreamed of. You could imagine it, her staring down at you with the soft smile she reserved for you that you missed so much, hand reaching out for yours, and you would have stretched to the point of desperation just to touch her. The door to your apartment had been unlocked and there was a quiet shuffling that signaled people coming in, but you didn’t care. 

You didn’t care that they were her friends, or yours. You didn’t care that they had somehow gotten a key to your apartment, or that they looked almost as heartbroken as you did, sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be shared, and so full of life and love. You didn’t care that you could hardly breathe through the pain or through your chest rattling sobs, nor did you care that someone had their arms wrapped around you and was trying to break through your eternal wall of grief. 

You and your dress were stuck in time. Stuck in a place where nothing bad ever happened to you or Natasha, in a timeline where you two managed to get married. In your mind, you were looking at Natasha while you threw your bouquet at your small group of friends, wide smiles on the both of your faces as you heard their playful squeals. In reality, you were sobbing on your floor, dust collecting on you and your true emotions as pages of reality and dream world stuck to each other. She left you, and she left you with no choice but to stay in a moment that would never happen forever. You flinched when you felt the arm squeeze you gently, forcing you to look at who was truly there in the flesh in front of you. It wasn’t her. 

  But it was your wedding day. And she was never going to be there to see it. 

****

i got sad and selfishly decided to make it other people’s problems- this is the result

[hurting-fictional-people]

Betrayal story - part 4

Look, the story has a name (hopefully I’ll come up with a better one later)! And the characters do too!

Anyways, if someone hasn’t seen the picrews (it’s here if you want to), Whumpee is now Liam Beaumont, Caretaker is Chase Raymond and Whumper is Jonah Sharpe. If you have trouble remembering: Caretaker still starts with a C no I totally didn’t give him a name that starts with a C on purpose what are you talking about and I think you’ll get very different vibes from Liam and Jonah haha

CW: electric torture, forced to watch, whumpee held hostage, hurt no comfort (for now), restraints

tagging  @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot  @sunflower1000  @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove  @boxofsilence  @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince

Part one here, continued from here

-

Twelve messages wait for Chase when he picks up his phone. All from Jonah, all demanding him to work quicker, to give in new information faster. He purses his lips and takes a deep breath, clutching the new drive he was given to fill. 

After so many betrayals, he should be used to the sting that comes along with lying and deceiving. He’s done it before, felt that guilt, drowned in it – and yet he can’t help but hesitate. Liam’s pale lips, creased brows, shallow breaths, sparkle to life in his mind, a painful reminder of what is at stake if he annoys Jonah too much. Right beside Liam’s face, though, are the ones of Chase’s team, his friends, his family, all trusting smiles and loving gazes he cannot ignore. It’s enough for him to type a message and turn off the phone.

Working on it, Chase sends and hopes it is enough to keep the man quiet for at least another day as he turns his computer on and starts erasing from the drive the most meaningful information he’s stolen.

-

When Jonah bursts into his room, Liam is almost happy to see him. Five days have passed since he’s woken up in a room instead of the cell, and all he’s had since then is loneliness and echoing silence. With the only human interaction he was given being the occasional visit from a nurse who gave him a clinical once-over and refused to so much as look him in the eye, it was no real surprise when his thoughts spiraled out of control, swirling around and sinking down between Chase’s inevitable and yet somehow unexpected betrayal, and his new status as a hostage. 

“Doing better?” Jonah asks, leaning against the doorframe. Liam’s heart pounds both in relief and terror at the sound of a voice that isn’t his own.

“Do you care?”

“Getting some rest got your tongue loose, I see.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” That’s the question that’s been eating him alive, disrupting his sleep, watering his fear into a blossoming flower of dread that grows and suffocates any hope that tries to bloom beside it. Each answer Liam’s imagined sounds worst than the last, but if there is truth in any of them, he has to know. To prepare. 

“We talked about this already, didn’t we?”

Jonah’s eyes are as cold as he remembers from their few encounters, but this time something lurking there whispers stories of anger and pain to come, and that alone is enough to raise goosebumps along his entire body. 

“What do you want to let me go?” What could he have to give a man who is already filthy rich, when Liam has nothing to offer but a cramped apartment and a lot of resentment?

“Nothing you can offer, lovely,” Jonah chuckles. “Fair try, though.”

But nothing about this is fair, in any possible way. “So you are just going to keep me here because you don’t like Chase? I have nothing to do with him, please just let me the fuck go and I won’t even tell anyone, you–“

“Liam, honey, let us clear something up. There is nothing you can do to convince me to let you go. All you can do is comply, and maybe I’ll be merciful if you do, but you are mine for the time being, and there is no one here to help you but me.”

Liam’s reply dies on his tongue, killed by the unrestricted horror the words wash him over with. It doesn’t sound real. Sounds like something he’d watch in a movie, read in a book, hear about on the news. To hear them directed at him and feel the pulsating response from the healing stab wound in his gut, makes him hold his breath and pray to just wake up from this nightmare. When did his life turn into this? Was it when he met Chase? Was it before? 

“Now that that’s out of the way, come on, we have somewhere to go today.”

Liam’s stomach drops to the ground, farther, falling and falling to the center of the Earth as he clenches the sheets in his fists and hisses, “Last time you said that, you locked me up until I got an infection.”

“Ha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jonah says, raising a brow. Liam doesn’t even blink at the grin playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t make the same mistake twice. We’re having a different kind of fun today. Up now, or I’ll call my men to do it for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Liam pushes the sheets away and slowly stands up, holding his side and fighting a groan, but on his feet without help.

They walk in silence, and neither Jonah nor the guards say anything about how slow he is, or how terribly pitiful he looks stumbling through the hallways. A thousand words speed through his brain, pleading to be heard, but he doesn’t voice any of his questions. Doesn’t think he’d get an answer if he did, anyway.

He is led into a nearly barren room, with only a camera over a tripod standing in front of a wooden chair. A wooden chair surrounded by restraints.

He takes a step back before his brain catches up with the movement, straight against a guards’ chest. Jonah giggles and tuts softly. 

Two men grab his arms and drag him to the chair, and the panic suddenly becomes so deep, so all-encompassing, it swallows down his fight. He is pushed down on the chair, the restraints are buckled around him until all Liam can move is his head, and all the while he just sits there, hyperventilating and near to tears, as still as a statue. Watching but never moving, terrified but frozen in place, petrified, and he hates himself for it, even if he knows the feeling should be directed at Jonah and Jonah alone.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be so pliable, sweetheart,” Jonah mocks, setting the camera up. “I would’ve played with you sooner had I known.”

He parts his lips, but the words refuse to form. Fear envelops each of them before Liam can push them through gritted teeth, and all he does is stare at the guards surrounding him, at the cold stickers being placed on his arms, his shoulders, his hands. Liam shivers, but there’s no air current here.

“Why, why, why are you doing this?” he chokes out. He knows what’s about to happen, has seen it on television enough times to recognize the electrodes, the box placed next to the chair. 

“Because Chase pissed me off today,” he shrugs, and a red light blinks to life in front of the camera. Jonah walks toward him, stops in front of the chair, and smiles. Liam’s eyes are blown wide as he stares up at the man. “Has Chase ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

The weight on his stomach is so huge that Liam can’t even find energy enough to feel outraged.

Jonah pulls out a linen scarf from his pocket as the guards plug wires to each sticker and wiggles it in front of Liam’s face. “Here, I’d bite down on this if I were you.” When he fails to open his mouth, the man rolls his eyes and grabs his cheeks, squeezing so suddenly and cruelly his mouth opens without command and the scarf is shoved inside, making him gag. “Not that well behaved, huh. No problem, we have time to get you obeying.”

When the guards take a step away, Liam finds himself wishing they didn’t. 

“Smile at the camera, love,” Jonah says, stepping to the side so Liam is the only one being recorded. He stares straight at the lens and tries to draw in a deep breath.

He knows it is coming. He prepares for it. And then Jonah flips a switch, and there’s no preparing for pain so big, for agony so deep.

The world shatters around him as electricity lights up his body, turns him inside out, upside down, and no breath could’ve ever made this any better. There’s no air to breathe, no room to writhe, no place to escape. There is only pain, boundless and searing, here and now, splitting him into thousands of shards he can never hope to piece back together.

And then it stops, and his throat is raw but he doesn’t remember screaming and his chest heaves as he fights for air and tears fall from his eyes to his chin to his chest but he doesn’t remember crying either.

“Beautiful,” Jonah sighs somewhere close. Liam coughs and chokes on his own tears, trying to beg or maybe cry out, but whatever his mouth forms gets caught on the gag before it reaches anyone’s ears.

Please please please stop, it hurts, hurts so much, so, so much, please, please–

“Let’s go again.”

Liam doesn’t have time to even be scared before his world dissolves into burning agony once more. All he can do is scream and silently plead for help he knows isn’t coming.

-

When Chase turns on the phone, his heart nearly stops at the video awaiting him.

Two hours have passed. After five days of trying to convince that despicable man to let him see Liam and failing miserably, barely sleeping, worry and guilt eating at his insides, he fell asleep. He forgot. For one hundred and twenty minutes he allowed himself to rest, and now he is paid with Liam’s frozen image staring at him, waiting on Jonah’s chat, along with one single line of text that chills him to the bone.

This is for turning off the phone.

He clicks and feels a chasm opening in his gut when Liam fills the screen, strapped to a chair, scared eyes darting around a room Chase can’t see through the video, searching for an escape that is nowhere to be found, stopping on each electrode that is stuck to his body. The fear is clear as crystal on his face. It makes Chase’s heart squeeze until his chest is so tight he places a hand there, afraid to find it as hollow as he feels. Liam doesn’t talk, doesn’t scream, doesn’t beg. He simply blinks at the men towering over him and doesn’t ask for help, and that might be what truly undoes Chase.

And then Jonah turns on the switch, and Liam’s head snaps back, body contorting against restraints so tight there’s no room for him the thrash. Even through the gag, he screams, and Chase would scream as well if he wasn’t too busy gripping the phone as if his life depended on it, trying to steady his trembling hands.

When the shock stops, Liam’s face is tear-stained and exhausted, sobs wracking his body and ripping apart Chase’s soul. 

His fault.

It is his fault. After everything, after betraying Liam into not trusting anyone, after losing the boy who might’ve been the love of his life, after being responsible for his stabbing, his kidnapping, after everything–

The switch is turned on again, and this time when Liam screams, Chase’s eyes well up with tears he has no right to cry. A kind of rotten helplessness takes over his body, its clawed fingers wrapping around his arms, his legs, his heart and squeezing, whispering and shouting his failure, his guilt, his powerlessness. His eyes plead to close, but he needs to see this. It is his fault, his burden, and if Liam was forced through it, he has to at least watch it to the end. If anything, to know he’s still alive.

It lasts longer the second time. A life. His useless life. Liam convulses and cries and howls, and if Chase could only take the pain to himself, he would. He would switch places with Liam in the blink of an eye. He is the one who deserves that pain. He is the one who betrays and hurts and destroys anything he touches, and it should be him, not the boy who smiles at the sunrise and cries over books and dreams about changing the world. 

He stares unblinking at the screen and watches in silence as electricity courses again and again through that body he had once held and thought about spending a life beside, fogging those eyes that used to engulf him in love, twisting that face he once kissed and touched and loved into one of raw despair. Each time it stops, neither of them has time to catch their breath before it starts again. After the third time, Liam doesn’t cry out anymore. His voice breaks in a ragged wail until it dies down and all that’s left are silent sobs.

When the video ends, Chase is nearly numb. The last image shows Liam’s head hanging forward as he struggles to breathe, Jonah’s fingers casually carding through his sweaty hair.

Chase is out of his house before his brain even processes what he’s doing, inside his car, driving to Jonah’s building in a blur of hatred and desperation. When he parks in front of the tower, the phone buzzes and he doesn’t hesitate to read it. Not anymore. Never again.

You lost visit privileges. Leave the drive with the guard at the door and keep in touch. 

With Liam’s screams still ringing inside his mind, forever trapped there, he doesn’t dare do anything other than what he is told. He gives the guard the flash drive, and for the first time in years, he prays. Because if anyone notices the most important files missing… he can’t bear the thought of what could be done to Liam in retribution. 

(next)

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[hanjizung]

Heaven In Hell.

Yang Jeongin x Reader.

Word count:  3.1K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT; Demon!Jeongin x Fallen Angel! Reader, Supernatural AU, explicit smut, oral (m), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dependant behaviour, toxicity, curse words.

The power went out, leaving you in complete darkness in the kitchen. The microwave stopped suddenly, and you sighed. Taking your phone, you turned on the flashlight and walked to the basement to check if there was anything you could do to solve the darkness problem. 

When you walked inside, you kind of regretted wearing shorts since the room was so cold, you could barely see how the steam was created from your breathing, your bare feet feeling like they were walking on a frozen pond from the coldness of the floor, but you didn't see any point in going to grab a hoodie or anything since you were just checking if you could do anything. 

Focused on looking at the fuse box, your heart dropped when you turned and a mass of something that seems like smog and shadows was forming the figure of a man, your phone fell to the floor making a deaf sound when it came in context with the concrete, the light flashing your eyes making you close then for a bit before getting used to the darkness.

A laugh coming from the shadowy figure made you shiver, the light that you left turned on in the living room started flickering as the laughing proceeded, the illumination that reached the basement scared you for a bit, and then it stopped, leaving you in almost complete darkness. 

With a hand on your chest from the scare, you picked up your phone from the floor with the other hand and pointed the flash to the mischievous being you got to know. He was completely fully formed in the shape you got so used to seeing since you found him. 

"Hello, Y/N. Did you miss me?" the demon asked. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the evil smile on his lips as you turned and walked upstairs. Steps were heard from behind you, meaning that he was following you. 

"Not really, to be honest. I've been pretty good since I last saw you" you sat cross-legged on the couch, staring at the turned off television in front of you. "You can return the electricity now, I don't want to see you" you said. 

With a soft, almost inaudible chuckling, the light returned. You sighed in relief, only to feel tense again when the being sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "I don't want to leave, I just got here!" he argued. 

Breathing in, you slapped his hand away from you and when you exhaled you stood up, ignoring him again and walking to your room. "That's fine, if you don't want to leave I will. Have fun being alone" you smiled sarcastically at him before sitting on the bed to put your shoes on.

Under his attentive eyes, you took your favorite coat to protect yourself from the winter coldness, putting it on quickly and checking for your keys in one of the pockets. They were there, like you remembered, now you could go anywhere to avoid staying with him. 

He saw you almost running to the front door, scoffing when you actually pulled the knob. 

Taking your wrist, he pulled you towards him and slammed the door shut, dragging you away from it and standing against it so you wouldn't open it. 

"Stop, Y/N! Don't leave, just stay, I came here for a reason!" he shouted. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyes, but you didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue. 

"I swear it's something important, but first I want to know why you hate me" he pleaded with his eyes. 

"Why?" you laughed "Jeongin, I lost my wings because of you, I'm no longer in Heaven because of you… And you still don't know why I hate you?" your hands formed into fists, your eyes were closed tightly and your voice volume increased. 

"It's your fault that I'm like this! A… A fucking Fallen Angel… But you know what?" you paused, opening your eyes to see if he was going to answer you. He only stayed still in front of you, so you breathed in and tried to calm down before continuing. "That's not even the real reason why I hate you, I hate you because when I was exiled from Heaven you left me alone" tears started to fall from your eyes after you said that. Finally, you finally had the chance to speak your mind. You felt so exhausted from not being able to tell anyone why you were so sad… And now the reason behind it was the first and only one to hear it. To know what it was that kept you up all night turning in bed. 

"I'm so sorry, Y/N" his quiet voice said. He placed a hand on your shoulder, but just like you'd done earlier with his hand, you slapped it away. 

Now, looking at you being this vulnerable and with your head facing the ground, knowing how hurt and angry you were from what he did made him feel bad, he wasn't able to fight the sudden urgency to pull you towards him and wrap you arm around. 

So he did it, knowing that you might hit him and even attempt to separate for him, something inside his head told him that that was what he was supposed to do.

Luckily, you didn't try to separate from him. Tears kept falling from your face staining his shirt, quiet sobs and whimpers were heard coming from you and just then Jeongin confirmed the latest thought that didn't let him relax. 

"Y/N," he called, stepping back and removing his arms from around your body to hold your face with his big hands. "I didn't leave you because I wanted to, I got a call from the Boss…" you nodded, indicating that you were paying attention to his words. 

"He made me an offer, Y/N. And I've been thinking about it when I'm not working, you know?" this time, he closed his eyes and sighed, liking his lips to keep talking. "But there's something else that I haven't stopped thinking about, wanna know what it is?" 

You anticipated his answer, nodding to his question and patiently waiting for his answer. 

"You. You're all that's been on my mind lately. I think… I think I love you, as weird as it may sound, I care about you and I want to keep you safe" he caressed your cheek with his thumb, cleaning the remaining tears that escaped your eyes. 

Once you heard all he had to say, all you wanted was to scream, to throw a bucket full of water over your head to know you weren’t dreaming, but the only response your body could produce was to hug him tightly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you to finally kiss him, some tears still falling from your eyes making the moment a little more dramatic than what you would’ve wanted for an ideal reunion to be.

At first, he was a bit shocked but soon his hold on you relaxed and responded through the kiss, deepening it. The two of you continued until you had to separate from the lack of oxygen in your lungs. You kind of missed being an angel, with no need to breathe at all to stay alive, unlike your mortal self. 

Panting, avoiding his eyes and touching your lips, you said "... I love you too." 

You could feel a weight off your shoulders. Memories from all the things you'd done since you met drown your mind; your first encounters when you were supposed to hate him, your first kiss, how he had been so sweet when he took your virginity and some other times when you occasionally fucked. 

You'd missed him a lot. You wanted him by your side, you needed and craved his company...

Something in the air changed when Jeongin took your free arm. You moved your head to look at his hypnotizing eyes, and you were pretty yours sparkled with clear lust, the spot where his hand met your skin felt hot, it was almost as if a fire would start from there, and that same sensation went through your whole body. 

"Kiss me again" you demanded, eyes blinking heavily and lips parting as an invitation for him. In no time, you had his tongue in your mouth and the whole place was a witness to how sinfully your hands started to travel around each other's body, the sounds produced by your intense kissing were deaf to you, your senses were completely focused on Jeongin and how he responded to your actions.

First, he placed his hands on your hips and you were holding his face, but when you felt like you needed air and remembered that you had to breathe to stay alive you separated from him, moving your head backwards and giving him access to the tender skin of your neck. Jeongin didn’t hesitate and his lips left a trail of kisses that once they were above your throat they started to suck on your skin, his teeth also sinking there and leaving marks that would later bruise, leaving clear evidence of passion on you just the way he liked when you spent time together.

You didn’t know when or how, but when you looked again at your surroundings, you were in your room, Jeongin’s familiar black jacket was resting on the floor behind him and your coat nowhere to be seen.

All you knew was that you missed him, and how much you craved his touch.

Letting out a quiet moan, you made eye contact with him and saw that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, so you gave up and your jelly like legs made you drop to the floor where your face was at the same level as his crotch, the bulge caused by the erection you had caused him earlier made you lick your lips in anticipation, your fingers making their way through his thighs to his belt under his attentive look. He never said anything, surprisingly allowing you to take your sweet time and torture him for once. Deep down, you knew you would pay for this, but in the heat of the moment you felt like it was worth it.

Unzipping his black jeans, his cock finally sprung free. You licked your lips in anticipation, your hands closing around it at the base and squeezed it carefully. His cock twitched on your hand, and just then you couldn’t resist and opened your mouth as wide as you could to take him inside you.

Jeongin groaned, his hands making a fist of your head and pushing you towards him, making you take more of him than you could. The only way he realized he had to stop was when you made a gagging sound, the tension of his fingers through your hair loosing up and allowing you to go back and breath in, your hands that had gone to his thighs to help you stay balanced on your knees went back to wrapping his cock, your saliva making it easier for you to stroke him while you played with his tip with your tongue. 

Alternating from sucking to licking, as you proceeded and Jeongin's grunting started to become more herractic, the sensation that his twitching sickade when he was hitting the back of your throat warned you that he was close to coming, so you quickly removed him from your mouth, your hands jerking him quickly, pointing to your open mouth and tongue, ready to take his load in your face and swallow everything that could get in your mouth. 

"Shit… You look so good like this, angel, so perfect" you heard him say lowly, his voice raspy. You opened your eyes to lock at him, he looked so ethereal like that, towering over you, and yet he seemed to be so defenseless under your touch… 

Finally, his cum stained your pretty face and you had to blink quickly to avoid any of it getting in your eyes. 

You swallowed and opened your mouth wide for him to see there was nothing left, and he hummed in content. His hands grabbed your arms and helped you stand up, pressing his lips against yours as soon as he made sure you were safely standing. 

"Fuck me, Jeongin… I need you" you whined, separating from him only to say that but returning to kissing him when the order left your lips. 

And he didn't hesitate, he made you stop and he picked you up like a caveman, throwing you over his shoulder and going to your room. 

You squealed when he picked you from the floor, trying to grab on to him to not fall and when he entered the room where you always sleep in, he left you to fall to the bed. The fall didn't hurt at all thanks to the mattress and all the pillows you loved to be surrounded by. 

"I missed you so much" the demon said, taking his black shirt off and crawling to you, placing himself between your open legs. 

You took your clothes off too, all you could except for your shorts, but you didn't mind. If Jeongin ripped them apart or not, you didn't care. All you wanted was to feel him inside you as soon as he could. 

Placing a hand on your chest, he pushed you backwards so you would be lying completely, his thighs were under yours, his hardening cock coming in contact with your clothed sex making you crave him more and more. 

Jeongin was busy kissing you from the neck down to your chest and playing with your nipples, his hands on your hips and yours on his hair; your hips moved trying to feel him against you, aching to be filled by him. 

"What are you waiting for? Fuck me!" you cried out, taking a fist of his hair and tugging his head up so he would pay attention. From your position, you could see very well his fangs when he smiled, a hand of his going south on you when he positioned himself on his knees, your legs wrapped around his waist. 

Soon, a hand teasing your wet entrance let you know that your wish would come true soon, his fingers slipping past your bottoms to rub you where you needed him most, throbbing when he went away and complaining for the lack of contact. 

Then, you realized that the reason he had done that was because he was going to undress what was left on you, and you compiled to help him happily. 

"Are you ready?" he asked you, looking at you for consent while he got ready to finally enter you. With a simple nod, he moved his hips and you felt how he filled you, stretching your insides so deliciously. 

He started with a slow pace, groaning when he felt your walls embracing him, you couldn't help but roll your eyes; being this close to him again was something you thought wouldn't happen again, and yet here you were. 

"Hnnng… please go faster" you complained, your nails sinking on the skin of his shoulders when he buried himself even more inside you, following your suggestion silently and increasing speed slowly. 

Your bed started moving, making a sound when the bed frame hit the wall but neither of you cared; you had your nails raking down his spine a little bit harsher since he made a face and both of your breathing became more and more herractic. 

Feeling motivated to last longer when you called his name in a sinful moan that was like music to his ears, Jeongin's face got closer to you and you took this opportunity, putting your hands behind his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, one that felt like pure raw passion. 

You adored everything in this moment. It was glorious, and you wondered if you giving up heaven for a man was worth it, only to be reassured that you took the right decision when he ended the kiss and traveled down your neck, leaving wet kisses everywhere while his pelvis worked on pleasuring you. Yeah, he corrupted you but you allowed it to happen, so truly you were the wicked one. 

"Ahh, Jeongin you– you feel so good!" you moaned, your eyes tightly shut when you felt that familiar sensation of your orgasm approaching. 

Knowing that your end was nearing, the demon that was currently making you turn in ecstasy grinned. You couldn't see him, but you felt the way his fangs played with your nipple, before biting it and a few seconds later, you were gone. 

He kept thrusting into you, the way your walls embraced his cock was so delicious that his member couldn't help but twitch. 

Your velvety interiors hugging him perfectly inside you provoked his own release as well, and he spilled everything inside you, making you scream. He was quick to react, moving so he could silence your noises with another kiss. 

You opened your eyes after that kiss, a tired smile on your face, and you looked at him still above you. 

"I love you" you admitted. Jeongin chuckled softly, pulling out of you and plopping next to you. You made a sad expression after he removed himself from you; you felt empty now. 

"Come to Hell with me" he replied. 

You looked away from him, looking at everything around you. The Superior Angels had been good enough to give you a place to live, a job, and a name. They gave you a mortal identity, a new opportunity, they worried over you even after you broke one of the rules. 

Closing your eyes, you sighed. Would you give up everything in your life again only to follow him? 

"Are you sure that I'll be accepted in Hell?" you asked him. 

Because the answer to your last question was yes. Yes, you'll do it again. And if something happened, you'd do it again, to be next to him. Because you loved him, and you were sure that you were born to be together. 

Pulling you towards him to hug you, jeongin responded "Of course they'll accept you, baby. They have to, and if they don't and they talk behind our backs, who cares? I only care about your happiness. If you're happy then I am too, if something makes you feel uncomfortable I'll get rid of it, I love you."

That warm feeling of endearment on your chest caused you to smile, and you simply nodded. 

"I'll go anywhere as long as I get to be with you" you whispered. 

"I'll always find you, Y/N. No matter if you're in Heaven, Hell or the Midearth, I'll find you and I'll stay with you, forever."

[raksh-writes]

Finally fought off  writer’s block to write some for my Beauty and the Beast inspired A/B/O AU, so here’s a small sneak peek into the story! I love this ‘verse and can never wait to write more for it ^^ Following this fic: Tale as old as time. Enjoy!

.

It’s overwhelming.

The size of the room, as big as their small house was or maybe even bigger, the rich colors draped all over the place, the luxury dripping from every single curve and line; the fireplace carved in swirling marble, the couches and armchairs with plush cushions that must feel like a piece of cloud, the bed - gods, the bed. It could probably fit three grown men, comfortably; and Stiles is pretty sure he could get lost among all the pillows and sheets and blankets and furs, which - spirits save him - he just might, this very night. 

Stiles swallows, the meager amount of spit going down like a box of nails, scratching and painful on his parched throat. Arms drawn tight over his wiry chest, Stiles tries not to curl in on himself like a pathetic excuse for a man - lanky and thin and dirty, barely daring to move for fear of tainting everything around him more than he already did. Three steps into the room, shocked and blindsided by the space, the colors, the high windows and the warm fire, the polished marble and the richly colored rugs, the fur and the cushions, and-- And he has frozen, still standing where he stopped, taking in the lavishness his mind can’t quite comprehend. It feels like any miniscule twitch of his body makes filth scrape off his skin, spreading it through a place that should never see the likes of him. Stiles shudders, and immediately tries to lock his muscles into stone to prevent it - his filthy, scrapy, poor, poor imitations of boots already dirtied the room enough. 

Shame burns high on his face, swims scorchingly through his chest, both because he’d balk at those thoughts just a day ago - Mr Brady was a good shoemaker and Stiles took proper care of his boots, they were more than appropriate and nice for their little town, but here? Never in his short life has Stiles felt so-- so inadequate. And, gods, he hasn’t even thought about how dirty he must be, mud and soot and ash staining his torn clothes and caught in his shaggy hair, he’s been absolutely covered in filth through the whole spirits-damned road with-- 

Eyes falling shut, Stiles forces out the breath stuck in his throat and wrangles back the stinging under his eyelids.

He’d think it’s some kind of sick joke, a drop of amusement to the Lord he’s going to-- Fuck, Stiles is going to live with him. The Nogitsune. 

The reality of his situation hasn’t yet sunk in, probably won’t until it hits him out of nowhere, at some strange point he won’t be able to predict now. But-- it’s so surreal, so out of some fairy tale his mom would tell him for a goodnight when Stiles was just a kid that it seems purely impossible to wrap his mind around. Him. Stiles. In this room, this mansion - this Palace, for all intents and purposes - with the one even the Kitsune Lords seem wary of, the one of whom rumors are so hushed none dare to speak more than few sentences at once, and is shrouded with as much mystery as a hero from legends long past would be. The Nogitsune. Void. Or, as the locals seem to call him, Lord Yako. 

Maybe it is some kind of joke. Face Stiles with a vision of life in luxury, only to take it away for a stone prison cell, or a dump worse than even that, whatever that could be. Or. Or--

Stiles’ throat locks up.

--it’s the Nogitsune’s room he’s in - or maybe one of his rooms, since his scent seems absent - maybe he’s here not to live in as normal, but to-- to be chained, and collared, and kept on his knees at the edge of the bed, always ready to serve, to be on demand whenever the fancy strikes his Lord. As a filthy, displaced Omega like him is only good for.

Finally, a flicker of anger licks at his ribs, breaking through the fog of anxiety and shock. He was aware this might be his fate when he agreed, back on that scorched field beside his still burning town, but-- But two can play a game, and if he glimpsed it right, the Nogitsune was looking for entertainment, amusement - “I’ve been bored, lately, and you-- You intrigue me.” Stiles can be what he needs to be so his father is safe and happy and near. They have a deal, meager as it is, and that is a two way street. 

A soft rustle from the door cuts through his thoughts, and when Stiles twists to look, a kind-looking woman steps into the room. She seems his dad’s age, carries herself with both softness and surety, and both her smile and her gaze feels nothing but welcoming. 

Stiles falters, all of the grim, dark, downright terrifying scenarios wiped away by the pure warmth and calm the woman exudes. She takes a step closer and her soothing, mellowed scent puts some ease into his fried nerves. An Omega, just like him - all but for the shadow of a bite mark in the curve of her neck. 

“Master Stiles,” she greets him with a bow to her head, the whole situation too much for his poor heart for Stiles to cringe at the, well, title. “My name is Natalie, I’m here to help you settle and answer any questions and concerns you might have.” Her smile widens slightly, crinkled in the corners of her eyes, and there’s a lilt to her voice that endears him almost instantly - an edge of humor to it Stiles recognizes. She leans in, just slightly, just with the side of her body, as if to share a secret. “You know, I’m something of a Chief of Staff here. Not a person, corner or event here I don’t know about. Well, besides those concerning our Lord himself,” she tips her head, like they’re both in on a joke, “he can be quite a reclusive one, but you didn’t hear it from me. Now.” Straightening up, she gives Stiles a critical once over that reminds him too much of his mom’s look when he used to barge home covered in mud, but before that can dredge up painful memories, she smiles knowingly. “What about a bath?”

 Stiles can’t even begin to cover the relieved groan that slips from his mouth. 

“Yes, gods, please, I feel like I’m dirtying up this place just by breathing.”

Natalie’s light eyes sparkle with humor, and - just like that - the vice grip around his lungs loosens. 

[toutallyahoe]

Everybody Talks ~ Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) pt 2

requested by: --

a/n: holy shit— i had to break this one shot into three parts?!?

ugh, this is why i prefer wattpad and quotev bruuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh

you gremlins better enjoy this

part one | part two | part three

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━��━━━━━

"Hey sugar show me all your love?

All you're giving me is friction,"

It had been already a week and a half and his soulmate finally stopped listening to the song like it was god or something. Well, his soulmate never fully stopped as his soulmate seemed to play on it occasionally from time to time but it wasn't like earlier in the week where Hajime could barely sleep or focus on anything since the song was blasting on his ears in full volume.

Hajime was thankful that his soulmate finally regained their sanity back to not blast the song on a loop twenty-four seven like a maniac.

Still though, instead of the song "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees on loop, it was replaced by an instrumental of the said song. Not really much of a change but hey, it was more bearable with out the singer singing the lyrics so loud Hajime was sure he'll go deaf.

And yes, Hajime knows the name of the song and the band. How can he not be though when he had been hearing this one particular song again and again for a week and a half. It seemed like his soulmate changed their taste again. More or less. It was a common occurrence as the dark haired male seemed to noticed that his soulmate enjoyed listening to music a lot.

Hajime liked to think his soulmate was perhaps an aspiring musician as the dark haired male sometimes hear some songs he never heard of, even if he searched it in online as best as he could.

"Hey sugar what you gotta say?

It started with a whisper!"

Snapping out of his thoughts. Hajime sighed again when he heard the familiar song... again. It seemed like his soulmate was listening to the song again. Actually, his soulmate had been listening for it for awhile now but had had the volume down that the dark haired male could easily tune it out. But it seemed like his soulmate was trying to have their eardrums bursting again.

"And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

Shaking his head, Hajime reminded himself to focus. Currently, he had been asked by a teacher of his to deliver a box. Having nothing to do as Mondays he doesn't have any volleyball practice, Hajime agreed to take the box towards the light music club.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

The dark haired male had a bit trouble locating the club room of the light music club though. Hajime wasn't one to be interested in other extra curricular activities and other clubs as he was busy with his own club to manage. Being the vice captain of the volleyball club full of raging testosterone and hormonal boys, and having to deal with their bullshit was enough already. Hell, he even had to deal with Oikawa Tōru and that guy was the president! You could tell the stress the dark haired male had to deal with every single day.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Hajime shakes his head again as he turned his attention the the box on his hands. The box wasn't that huge nor heavy. Maybe a bit heavy and the dark haired male assumed it was some music instrument or some sheets of music notes. Either way, he has to be careful since who know what was inside and how he'll be in trouble if he messed whatever is inside the box.

"Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

Shifting his gaze from the box to the doors he was passing by. Hajime made sure to read the signs of the door to find the light music club he had to deliver the box too.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

   

It took awhile for the dark haired male the light music club room. Turns out the club room of the light music club was on the third floor, the third to the last room of the end of the building. Looking at the door of the room, it was the same as the rest of the doors of the rooms in the school. The only thing new about it was the sign on top of the door said "LIGHT MUSIC CLUB" in a very neat, bolded writing. Hajime almost passed the room for a second as everything was the same if he wasn't looking for it.

Sighing, the dark haired male noticed his soulmate was rather quite. They had been for awhile and Hajime didn't know whether to be overjoyed or not. He had noticed that his soulmate was also going silent for awhile and would normally just listen to music late at night or around the end of classes. Maybe sometimes listening in classes but mostly skipped unlike what they used to.

This really made Hajime curious on why the change of schedule his soulmate is currently doing as his soulmate was relentless and would always jam out to their song. But right now, Hajime should focusing on the task at hand. Going back to reality and cursing his soulmate— even when they are not annoying him with their music blasting in full volume inside his mind, Hajime is still getting distracted by them. Cute but also, how annoying.

Looking at the door again then at the box in his hand. Hajime breathed in and out. He did not know why but oddly enough, he felt a bit nervous. Maybe he was just stressed out? Perhaps. The dark haired male really doesn't have a single clue.

The dark haired male decided to just get this over with. Swallowing the anxiety that just appeared out of nowhere, Hajime was about to knock on the door when the familiar song came inside his mind again, but this time... more louder...?

"Hey baby won't you look my way?

I can be your new addiction."

"What the hell...?" Hajime muttered, confused and bewildered. The dark haired male swore he was hallucinating the song his soulmate was playing all the time. He had to be right or perhaps he was having auditory problems? Maybe he finally lost it with his soulmate's non-stop jamming to the song that it made him finally gone insane.

"Hey baby what you gotta say?

All you're giving me is fiction."

It took a second or two for Hajime to realized he wasn't going insane for listening on a song for almost a week and a half non-stop. No, the dark haired male realized the song wasn't only playing inside his mind, but also somewhere in front of him. And Hajime looked at the door in front of him, he knows the sound was coming inside the light music club room.

"I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time,

I found out that everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks—"

The dark haired male didn't know what had came over him or what had possessed him to do such a thing, but he, Iwaizumi Hajime grabbed the handle of the door and hastily opened it.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

The room had a cozy feel to it. It was like any room of the building in size but it had its own personality than the other rooms aswell. The window were covered with thick, black colored curtains that were shut tight at the moment. The walls were painted darker shade than the other room, a color of maroon.

Inside the room were chairs and some table on the side and most important of all, many different instrument raging from percussion to stringed and woodwinds instruments. There are mic stands and even a small podium inside the room. But Hajime wasn't focused on the room though. No, he was more focused on the person inside the room.

Inside the club room of the light music club was a lone male. This was [Last name] [Name]. Hajime only knew him because the male was the president of the light music club and had classes with his chocolate brown haired best friend.

[Name] had [Hair color] hair that was rather messy and wild looking and had its tips bleached white. [Skin color] skin that maybe held some imperfections that Hajime couldn't tell from the distance the two were in but the dark haired male noticed the [Hair color] haired male was wearing the Aoba Johsai school uniform.

Well, of course he was. [Name] was a student of the school after all, but the [Hair color] haired student seemed to had his white jacket discarded and put on a chair that was inside the room along with his bag. [Name] was standing in the small podium in the center of the room, two large speakers beside him that was blasting the rifts of the bass guitar that he was playing in his hands.

[Name] was wearing white headphones over his ears and had his eyes closed as he sang onto the microphone in front of his. His eyes closed, clueless to his own surroundings and was only lost to the music he was listening and singing too.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

Hajime felt his heart beating so fast inside his ribcage. He swore his heart would escape as he stood on the doorway of the room, frozen and gaping like a fish out of the water as his eyes widened in shock.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Was this real? This had to be a joke, right?

Holy shit. His soulmate— his fucking soulmate wasn't farther away than he had thought. His soulmate was [Last name] [Name], the president of the light music club and they were only a few steps away from each other. Not the miles and miles apart Hajime had admitted to himself a long time ago.

"Hey honey you could be my drug?

You could be my new prescription."

Was this the reason he had been hearing the song "Everybody Talks" for a week and a half now? Because his soulmate was truly an aspiring musician?

"Too much could be an overdose!

All this trash talk make me itchin'!"

It seemed like Hajime wasn't wrong about his thoughts on his soulmate enjoying music because they had a passion for it. His soulmate, [Name], was literally the president of a club dedicated to music making!

"Oh my, my,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, too much..."

As Hajime continuously stood there like a statue, the [Hair color] haired male finally noticed him when he had opened his eyes to see the dark haired male.

"It started with a whisper..." [Name] softly sang as he then stopped strumming the bass guitar on his hands and took his headphones off his ears. Instead, he let the white headphones hang loosely on his neck as he jumped of the mini podium and went towards the frozen male.

"Uh, hey?" [Name] awkwardly greeted Hajime as he stood in front of the dark haired male. "Do you need something?" The [Hair color] haired male asked as he looked at the volleyball player up and down.

[Name] knew who this was. This was the infamous ace of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai. The pride and joy of the school, the volleyball club was. Iwaizumi Hajime may not be popular like Oikawa Tōru (who he share homeroom with) like the rest of the other members of the club, but the dark haired ace still garnered recognition from others. He was, after all, the ace of the sport.

Now this brings the question on why the ace of the volleyball club was in his club's doorstep. Normally, no one comes into the light music club except members (who already went home as everyone Mondays are no club time for them) or close friends of the said members to watch them goof off and perform. And [Name] was pretty sure that Hajime wasn't a close friend of his members as he prided himself to actually known his fellow members in the light music club. After all, what kind a president would he be if wasn't close with his members and his members friends?

So, if it isn't any if those two, this leads to only one conclusion.

Snapping his fingers in a "hurrah" moment. The [Hair color] haired male did not paid mind on Hajime flinching a bit on the snap of his fingers as he sent the dark haired ace an apologetic grin.

"If you're here because of how loud I'm playing again, I promise I'll keep it down!" [Name] had awkwardly said as he grinned. This wasn't the first time people actually visited the club to complain how loud they were playing, or more specifically, how he was playing. [Name] was a passionate guy and it his passion also shows in his playing. And so, he sometimes gets too into his music.

"So, uhhh, don't worry!" The [Hair color] haired male chuckled but his relief was immediately washed away and was replaced with confusion when he saw the dark haired male shakes his head and avoided eye contact with him. Did he do something wrong?

"No, that's not it," Hajime had said as he awkwardly coughed and avoided looking at [Name] in his [Eye color] eyes. Why was he feeling embarrassed again? He wasn't the one getting caught singing their heart out for goodness sake! Yet, Hajime felt a bit shy which was uncharacteristic of him.

This was his soulmate though. Iwaizumi Hajime may be jumping on the gun here and was probably wrong but the inner hopeless romantic he denied that he had was desperately screaming at him that this was no coincidence.

The light music club president was singing the fucking song his soulmate was listening to and Hajime could still hear the song playing even just a tiny bit and the dark haired male could practically hear [Name]'s music on the headphones hanging lazily on his neck. And it was the same fucking song.

Clearing his throat. Hajime reminded himself to focus. He could tell [Name] about them both being soulmates after he delivered the box that he was asked to give.

"Tōrasu-sensei asked me to deliver this," Hajime had said as he finally looked at the other male and saw the [Hair color] haired male just noticed the box he was carrying. Hajime had to bite back the nerves coming back when he made brief eye contact with [Name].

Fuck, he had been waiting for this moment his whole life, so why did he feel so nervous?!?

Hajime didn't expect his soulmate to be so closer to him and be a male. Yes, the dark haired male knew the possibility of having the same sex soulmate as it wasn't a new thing really. In fact, having same sex partners are more common than what other people would think. Still, Hajime never expected this and he was having mix feelings about it.

"Oh," Hajime was dragged out of his thoughts again by [Name] with the male sporting a dumbfounded look for a second as his lips was in a "o" form. The [Hair color] haired male seemed to realized what he was here for and had flashed him a large smile. The dark haired male just noticed that [Name] actually had a few piercing in his ears and that he had really nice [Eye color] eyes that shined with energy.

"Thanks for delivering!" [Name] thanked as he carefully took the box from the dark haired male when Hajime was too busy looking at him. The [Hair color] haired male was a bit amused when he noticed Hajime blinked a couple of times when he took the box away from him. Looks like the volleyball player was lost in his thoughts.

"I had been waiting for this baby for awhile now," [Name] said as he patted the top of the box and sent Hajime a grateful smile. "So, thanks, really."

"No problem," Hajime shrugged as he nodded his head at the [Hair color] haired male. It seemed like the dark haired male was back and acting normal again. Not that [Name] would know really as he wasn't closed with the volleyball player.

"Not to be a bother but, what's inside the box?" Hajime had asked as he rubbed his hands, eying the box he just delivered. Hajime had his guesses earlier ago but he couldn't tell which of his guesses were correct really. The dark haired male noticed the male in front of him seemed to light up and beamed at him.

"Oh! It's supposed to be a surprise," [Name] had said. This caused Hajime to be more curious on what's inside the box, and [Name] seemed to actually be eager to tell as he sent Hajime a grin. "It's some stuff we'll be using in the school's festival next week!"

"Ah, is it some new instrument or something?" The volleyball player asked as he saw the light music club president chuckle while shaking his head. Hajime had to force himself to calm himself down when he saw the [Hair color] haired male sent him a wink with a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Now, I can't tell you about that!" [Name] had said with a laugh as he went to the nearest table and placed the box down. He then turned and gave Hajime another grateful smile. "It would ruin the surprise if I do."

"I see," Hajime muttered as he can't stop the small smile creeping onto his lips. "Then I'm sure it'll be a great surprise then!" Hajime said. The dark haired male didn't noticed how the [Hair color] haired male seemed to be a bit surprised with his words but he immediately grinned happily by Hajime's words.

"Oh, you bet!" [Name] said as he went back to stand in front of Hajime, holding his hand on to shake the dark haired male's hand. "Name's [Name] by the way! [Last name] [Name]!" He introduced.

"Iwaizumi Hajime," Hajime introduced himself aswell as he took the [Skin color] hand that [Name] outstretched for him to shake. A small smile on his lips as he shook hands with the light music club president.

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[leah-halliwell92]

It’s Over

For @band--psycho​‘s bingo challenge. The prompt is enemies to lovers. Pairing is Tig x Reader

Note: (S/N) = sister’s name

“It was my sister,” you said coldly as you packed your bag.

Flashback

You’d just come back from a week long conference, Tig said he’d be on the road doing club stuff so timing couldn’t have been better. Everything went amazingly well, from your presentation to the doors that had opened for you and your career. Hell you could count the times someone told you to call em if you’re interested in a specific job. You’d done some light research and seen that most are out of state near the Maine area of the U.S. And while that seemed all well and good, you couldn’t just leave the family you’d made behind.

You were making Tigger’s favorite, ready to surprise him by taking it to the shop with promises of play time later. You loaded up the food into your car and made your way to T.Ms a happy grin on your face feeling giddy with all the pent up energy from not having seen your old man in a solid week. Yea there were calls but that shit ain’t the same.

You went through to the office waving at the boys as you passed by. You pressed a kiss to Chibs’ and Happy’s cheeks in greeting as you passed them by batting their hands away from the lunch bag.

“Nu uh,” you said with a grin, “This one is not for you. But let me know what you want me to bring for Sunday dinner and I’ll do my best. By the way have you seen Tiggy anywhere?”

The boys nodded happily but stilted at the question.

“He’s in the back,” Chibs said with a grin.

You noticed he didn’t look quite as teasing as he should have been but chalked it up to jet lag from the bike trip.

Happy didn’t look much better. You were sure if looks could kill someone would be dead with how cold and hard his eyes were.

“Come on little girl I’ll take you,” Happy said with a small smile.

“Lemme put this in tha lounge aye?” Chibs said reaching for the bag.

You furrowed your brows at them and the sudden odd behavior but gave Chibs the bag. You’d never needed any of the boys to take you to the back...

Happy didn’t say much on your way and you were going to say something when you heard moaning and heavy breathing.

You looked to Happy who nodded forward.

You walked up quietly hoping it was one of the prospects getting handsy with a crow eater. Your hopes were dashed at seeing Tig on a chair a woman bouncing on his lap. You covered your mouth to keep from gasping at who it was exactly that was on his lap. Your sister...

You made your way out to where Happy stood a sad look in his eyes.

You pulled out your phone and text widow, ‘Are there cameras in that room?’

You showed him the message and nodded as he confirmed it.

‘Get me a copy of that and make sure her face is visible,’ you typed in.

Happy looked at you startled, he’d never seen you so dead seat on something.

You turned around walked back into the room and took a picture of the deed tearful eyes cold and heart dead.

That done, you turned around and left. Out in the front, Happy and Chibs waited for you both concerned as they looked you over.

You took a seat in the lounge both boys at either side.

“Are ya gonna wait on ‘im?” Chibs asked quietly.

You shrug really not knowing what to do before sighing.

“Is it ok if I crash at either of you apartments?” You asked.

Happy nodded quietly, considering he never uses the place.

“I’ll help ya with your stuff,” Chibs said with a nod.

“No you won’t,” you say with conviction, “Despite everything going on between us now, he’s still your brother.”

“Yea...but if looks could kill he’d be dead,” Happy said with conviction.

You’d become family in the near 5 years you’d been with Tig. You meant a lot to them, even the prospects.

“I promise to keep in touch,” you say taking their hands in each of yours.

They nod and stand one to punch out the other to work the ladder not at all happy with how things ended.

As soon as Happy stepped out to punch out your sister walked out Tig not too far behind her.

“(Y/N)! You’re home!” Your sister said excitedly moving to hug you.

You kept your distance avoiding her hurt look and before she could say anything, you pulled out your phone showing her the picture you’d just taken. 

(S/N) paled at the image.

“It’s not what you think,” she said voice shaky. 

“No you’re right....him and I was not what I thought,” you said voice hard.

She shook her head pleadingly at that but before she could say anything...

“Baby!” Tig cried walking around (S/N) to envelope you in his arms.

You felt sick as he hugged you knowing where he’d been. It also didn’t help that (S/N) had been exactly were. 

“You ok?” He asked when you pulled away, “Did something happen?”

‘Yea you dick you cheated on me with my sister,’ you thought but shook your head and left without a backward glance Happy hot on your heels.

You were heaving from how angry and ready to break you were. Happy saw this and gently held you in place.

“Breath,” he said lowly as you both heard Tig yelling at Chibs.

“I can’t,” you said as tears fell.

“Chibs is being a door stop,” Happy said looking over your shoulder, “But if you wanna leave...”

“We leave after I do this,” you said and walked to Tig’s bike. 

You saw the men freeze as you looked at the bike a not so friendly look on your face.

Before Happy could do anything, you pulled out the knife Tig had given you for Christmas and slashed his tires making sure to leave the knife imbedded in the second tire.

You turn around to see a shocked and mouth agape Happy. 

“Ok...Now I can go,” you said and walked away to your car. 

You were stopped by your crying sister throwing her arms around you as she cried, “(Y/N) please!”

You pushed her off roughly not ready to deal with her yet and ran to your car.

You’d not sooner gotten in you car that you heard Chibs called out, “Move over lass! Ya ain’t in na condition to be drivin’.”

You were about to say no but was pushed to the passenger seat by the Scott. 

“Lemme drive lass, Hap’s holdin’ on ta Tig while ya make yer getaway,” he said with a small laugh as he remembered you’d slashed the bike tires, “Granted he won’ be goin’ nowhere on flat tires.”

Back at home, Chibs found empty boxes to start putting your things in as you told him what belonged to whom while you packed away your clothing.

~End Flashback~

“What the hell man!” You heard Tig yell at Chibs who was loading up the last of two boxes that held your things.

“Babe–”

“It had to be my sister,” you said not turning around continuing to pack your bag.

“Babe please!” He said desperately, walking to where you were and taking things out. 

You slapped his hand, hard, and repacked the clothing he’d taken out.

“And before you start, I saw you don’t give me the “it’s not what you think” crap,” you say as you packed up the last of your clothes.

“It didn’t mean anything!” He yelled.

“It meant enough for you to throw away 5 years together Alexander. Five fucking years I gave to you only to have it thrown in my face cuz my bitch ass of a sister made her cunt available to you while I was away for work,” you yelled turning to look at him, “And the worst thing is that I have no fucking clue how long this has been going on.”

Tig lowered his gaze and scuffed at the rug with his boot.

“How long Alexander?” You asked not really wanting to know the answer. 

“A month...” he mumbled out.

Chibs walked in just as Tig answered the question and looked at his brother in disbelief. 

“You sack o’ shite!” He yelled and punched Tig in the face, “You cheated on the best thing that has happened to ya with ‘er sister for a month! What was it Tig!? Was it the fresh pussy? That she was there? What the FUCK was it Tig!?”

“I don't know!” Tig yelled out as Chibs punched him while he was down, “I don’t know. She came onto me one night I’d mixed two drinks too many and next thing ya know I woke up with her on me.”

“Did it never make you stop and think to come clean!?” Chibs yelled.

“Dude she made me swear not to,” Tig said letting Chibs wale on him for the answer.

You on the other hand stood frozen as everything came to light. 

“She made you swear because of (S/H/N),” you said quietly. 

Chibs turned to look at you questions in his eyes.

“(S/N)’s husband is in the military and is diploid,” you said looking at Chibs, “She’s always been a horny bitch, sad she couldn’t just fuck a prospect and had to go for what wasn’t hers.”

Chibs approached you and nodded to the bags behind you on the bed. 

You nod and he takes them to the car.

“At least now I'm free to fuck any son I want,” you say cruelly, “Because now nothing is sacred, and that is on you. Enjoy the crows Alex, maybe they’ll help you forget about me.”

“But baby I love you!” He yelled after you.

You scoffed and said, “If you did you’d have come to me as soon as it happened. Not gone back for more....fuck you Alexander Trager and hope that this doesn’t make it’s way over seas.”

[luvspence]

darling, you’re the one i want

spencer reid x reader

{im not quite sure this is how a song fic works but this is basically stolen from paper rings by taylor swift, i’m using the lyrics as like prompt one liner things?????? idk bare with me}

- 1,3,4 are mainly fluff but 2 is a lot of fighting and bickering

——-

i want to drive away with you

“do you ever feel”

you took a pause in the middle of your thought, spencer spun around in his chair to face you

“indeed, i do feel”

“shut up i’m thinking” you said as you laughed and slapped him on the arm

“do you ever feel like, trapped? like boxed in almost”

he chewed on the end of his pen

“i guess? elaborate”

“well, i love my life. i have no regrets. but sometimes i feel like just running into the streets and screaming and keep running and never stopping? just fleeing in a sense”

“yeah, i get that. sort of an intrusive liberating type thought”

“exactly” you said tapping your finger to yourself head, a few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again

“i want to drive away with you”

spencer looked at you in confusion

“you’re all i need, seriously. i love everything in our lives right now i do, but i could go without all of it, besides you”

he rolled his chair up next to your and caught your hand in his

“i’d get up right now, keys in the ignition, and i’d drive into nowhere with you y/n. you’re it for me”

——

i want your complications too

you chased spencer up the stair way

“spencer!”

he turned around

“listen to me would you? every time i open my mouth it seems that you turn off your ears”

“i’m all ears y/l/n” he said, giving you more attitude than necessary, but you were having a hard time getting through to him

“that was unbelievably stupid! you could’ve gotten yourself killed! spencer this isn’t the first time, let alone the second, let alone the 7th time you’ve put yourself in harms way! this is so dumb spencer you understand this shit but you still are reckless! and don’t give me that crap about calculated risks”

you were fuming at him

“so what i’m alive, so is our victim what more do you want?”

“why are you turning this on me? i don’t want shit from you spencer! it’s not what i want! it’s your life! my god i shouldn’t have to justify to my colleague, god to my friend why i care about them being alive!”

“well i am alive. so i don’t know why you’re so bothered y/n it’s like your my mother or something” he said as he continued walking up the stair case

“no, you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to put your life on the line and then treat me like i’m the irrational one. painting me as the villain when i only just care about you”

“why do you care so much?”

“because i’m your friend?! because i love you?!”

he ignored you and resumed walking up the stairs

“you know what spencer? it’s because i love you. it’s because i love you so much that it affects my sleep. so much that i always make you coffee when you come in. so much that no matter what i’m doing, where i’m doing or who i’m doing it with, you’re always on my mind. the problem is spencer, not that i love you, that i’m IN love with you. and even at that you can’t seem to let me in. so i don’t know what the fuck to do anymore”

a tear fell down your cheek as you slammed the door and left

spencer standing dead in his tracks on the stair case. honestly wanting to vomit

-

you spent the rest of your day scream crying. so many emotions that you couldn’t quite process anything

you were laying on your couch, radio head on your phone, dried tears on your cheeks when your heard the doorbell ring

you go and open it

spencer

“hi”

“hi?”

you stood in your doorway, looking at each other with swollen eyes

silence, 2 seemingly frozen bodies

until spencer opened his mouth

“look, i’m sorry.”

“yeah me too”

you were sick of him, sick of how he couldn’t communicate, of how blind he could be. but something about his face was so so good. you were about to shut the door in frustration before spencer started to speak again 

“and with what you said, about the love thing...”

he took a big gulp 

“i do too. i love you too. i mean i’m in love with you too”

what. the. fuck.

between the shock and the upset you were feeling, there was little part of your heart that warmed when he said those words. you opened your mouth to speak but spencer cut you off

“and i just wanted to say that because i uh i owe you the truth always. regardless. but anyway, i don’t think we should pursue that though”

you stood in your doorway in shock

you didn’t know if you wanted to fight him, cry, or vomit

probably all of the above

you were blank, nothing came to your mouth. you tried to speak, tried to scream , but the only thing that came out was 

“what?”

“i’m no good for you, you deserve someone who can be perfect for you. you deserve that truly. and i can’t be that. so i’m sorry but that’s just how it is. i just want you to be happy. you don’t deserve a guy that you have to yell at in stairways, that makes you cry until your eyes swell shut, a guy that cant reconcile his emotions for crap or can’t communicate or anything that i am. so im sorry, but i think this is what’s best for you.”  he stuck his hands in his pants

“so bye i guess”

you were paralyzed, a surplus of information hitting you all at once. you couldn’t quite process it but you knew you couldn’t just let him walk away

“you’re idiotic” you shouted as he was about to get on the elevator

“i’m what now?”

“idiotic. no ones buying the ‘i’m not a nice guy’ crap”

“it’s not crap, it’s true. i’m no good for you”

“oh please spencer you’re acting like this is your villian orgin story. first off, who do you think you even are? i’m an adult i don’t need a white man who doesn’t know how to brush his hair to tell me whats ‘good for me’”

“i’m just looking out for you”

“okay, thanks, but i’m a big girl spencer i know how to take care of myself. and even so i don’t even think thats what this is about. you know what i think? i think that you’re too scared to admit that you don’t feel the same way. which is fine by the way, but if you’re to scared to face the reality of whatever your feeling and youre covering it by turning it on me? by saying that ‘i’m too good for you’ thats fucked up and thats that spencer.”

you caught your breath and continued 

“because spencer i know you’re pulling all this shit about not being good for me but is that even true? spencer reid we’re perfect for eachother. in every way. and if you’re blind to that than whatever, but i don’t want you to lie to try and tiptoe around my feelings”

“ever since you walked into the bau y/n ive loved you. every word you’ve ever said to me get played on repeat in my head. i love you i would want nearly nothing but to be with you y/n. i love you that much. that’s why i’m trying to our myself above what i want and above whatever so that you can be the happiest you can be. it’s just that i don’t want to hurt you. you don’t deserve that. i never want you to hurt ever. and i can only prevent that by taking myself out of the picture”

“spencer, when i said i love you. it means all of you. i want every side to spencer reid. i want your complications too. it’s all worth it spencer because you’re the one for me”

you two stood there for a couple minutes. it was the longest and shortest time of your life. spencer eventually took a deep sigh and stepped in a step closer to you, looking down at your face

red from the crying, left eye swollen shut, giving him a weak smile

“you’re the one for me”

——

i want your dreary mondays

“thursday”

“no?! the worst day of the week is monday obviously”

“monday is underrated in my opinion”

you were conversing with spencer while walking through the park after dinner

“monday is the worst, it’s so hard after the two perfect days of rest to return the mundane process of life”

“sure”

“so thursday? story behind that?”

-

“hey have you seen spence?” you asked around the office, only getting head shakes

it was the monday after a long weekend, and spencer has had a less than ideal day

just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, spilt hot coffee on his pants, forgot his satchel at hole

you searched around for him, when you realized

when spencer was overwhelmed or stressed or sad or anything like that, he retreated to the basement file room

no one ever went down there, and there was a closet with a couch in it that was good for taking mid day breaks

you ran down the stairs, opening the door to the closet and sure enough spencer was there

“hey”

“hi”

he wiped his hand across his face, presumably for a tear

“what’s up spence?”

you said scooting next to him on the closet couch

“having a monday”

“i’m sorry to hear that, what’s going on”

“well besides the coffee incident and satchel problem...” he began to rant about how his day was going less than ideal. when he stopped abruptly

“hey, you don’t need to listen to this”

“i dont have to, but i want to”

“are you sure? i’d hate to bore you with my bad day”

“come on spence, i want your dreary mondays something you gotta recognize, is that you’re such an incredible person, that your bad days are better than most people’s best.”

“yeah, perspective right. my worst days are someone’s best”

“yeah, but don’t ever feel invalidated abt your bad days, you always deserve to feel upset, and i’ll always be here to listen to it”

“god i love you”

—-

wrap your arms around me baby boy

spencer wasn’t a touchy person

germaphobe habits

but something about you, he was magnetic to you

no matter what it was, on the jet, in the office, while in line at the grocery store, anywhere and everywhere he always had you in a hug

coming up behind you while you were cooking, wrapping his arms around the back of your neck while you were working

he adored you, and you adored him

after a case, the team decided to hit the local bar, nearing the end of the night, they started to play slower stuff

slower jazzier beats, the dj came on and said

“okay you couples! get up there”

a few couples hand gone up, you were tugging on spencer’s arm to accompany you up there

“well if you don’t go you know morgan will”

derek raised an eyebrow at him, and before you knew it he was dragging you on stage.

poor spencer didn’t know how to dance correctly, he was standing so far from you. hands in each other’s hands like middle schoolers

“jeez spence, wrap your arms around me”

you grabbed his hands, positioning them on your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and leaned into his chest

swaying back and forth, as the sinatra echoed the other the bar and the click of garcias camera could be heard

and in that moment, nothing felt better or more right, than dancing in spencer reids arms

[pretendrocketships]

Paradise

About: Shawn uses a surprise vacation and his tongue to make you forgive him (angst/fluff/smut BUY TWO GET ONE FREE) 

A/N: 2.2k. Combined a soft!shawn and vacation request, so I hope you don’t mind! Sometimes soft smut being reassured how much someone loves you is a nice change of pace plus its all oral so here ya go. As always leave feedback if you want! (plz) 

Song: Paradise by Bazzi

-- 

“Fuck, this is beautiful,” you muttered, staring at the ocean at the waves crashing before you. 

“You’re beautiful,” Shawn said, leaning around to kiss your cheek. The ice from your fresh drink he brought you dripped down your forearm. You rolled your eyes and peaked at him below your sunglasses. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mendes,” you reminded before settling back into your seat. He laughed to himself and put his own drink on the small table between your chairs. He moved your legs open, then settle himself in between them.

“It’s worked pretty well for me so far. I’m here on this beautiful, private island with the most beautiful girl in the world. So, I think flattery’s worked out pretty well for me.” His goofy smile disappeared when he saw you weren’t smiling with him. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” you said, bringing your glasses down to the bridge of your nose, “you’re here on this beautiful island with the most beautiful girl in the world because you fucked up, and you needed to apologize and thought 72 hours on an island would do the trick,” you stated before leaning back in your chair, taking a sip of your drink hoping the ice and alcohol would cool you down. “That’s how you got here.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, forcing himself to shut up and think about his next move. He got up and turned away from you, staring off into the sea. 

“This was to fix our relationship, and I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” His voice came out strained. He already felt the sarcastic tone dripping from your tongue, and he could already feel a headache coming on.

“And please remind me why we have to fix our relationship, Shawnie?” Knowing you only use that nickname to annoy him, he was realizing that maybe buying you and island, then whisking you off to it with no warning wasn’t the best fix to your situation.

“I told you I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was busy. I didn’t even notice I was doin--”

“And that’s the problem! You didn’t notice, you didn’t remember you had a girlfriend who would wait up for you and cook for you and be there for you. You could go out to every record meeting or studio session or hang out with the fucking boys while you expected me to do what? Wait up. Fuck that.” You drank the frozen drink even faster, needing to be drunk to have the same fight over again in the blistering heat. Shawn only now turned back around, admitting to himself, finally, that he was wrong, and he was just going to have to accept that and stop making excuses for what he already knew. He moved to sit on the side of your lounge chair.

“Listen, honey, I’m sorry. I did not think about it like that. I didn’t think about how you felt.” You were up and ready to attack him until he held his hands up in defeat. “And I should have. I didn’t bring us here to just try and buy your forgiveness. I realize the problem was me not making time for you, so here I am,” he said with a nervous smile and shrug of his shoulders, “making time for you and only you.” 

“Yes, me. Only me and the 35 person staff we also had to bring along since you can’t cook, or drive a boat, or--” 

“Honeyy,” he whined and buried his face into your stomach. “I’m trying here!” You threw your head back in a soft laugh, scratching his scalp as he purred into you. You wanted to be mad at him, but he bought you a fucking island. But more importantly, he understands why you were mad and validates that. Since the beginning, that’s all you really wanted. “Tell me you love me.” The neediness in his voice, the way it shook, concerned you. You pulled on the end of his curls a little, forcing him to look up at you. 

“What was that?” you asked knowing full well what he said, but needing him to explain. He forced himself up to sit back, looking you in the eyes. 

“I just,” he looked away, wringing his hands, a bad habit that exposed itself when he was upset or nervous. “I know you’ve talked to me about this before. I know my job puts a huge strain on our relationship, and I know if I keep pushing you, you’ll leave me, with good reason,” he rushed out, “but I--”

“Shawn,” you said, leaning over to sit in his lap and cradle his cheeks. “I’m not leaving you, okay? We’re allowed to have fights like every other couple, doesn’t mean I’m leaving you, yeah?” His eyes were darting all over your face. “I love you, okay? Still. I love you, Shawn.” You heard the breathe that he finally allowed himself to let out.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he proclaimed. You laughed again and left soft kisses up his neck.

“Love you too, baby,” He moved your head from his neck and forced you to face him. 

“Lay back,” he commanded and lightly pushed you back onto the chair, so you were laying flat. 

“For what?” you questioned as he pushed your thighs further apart, so he was back between your legs.

“You were so good to me, forgiving me for everything. Just wanna make you feel as good as I feel right now.” After months, he could still make your heart race like no other.  

“Shawn, you don’t have to.” He grinned and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, honey, I know that. But I want to,” he said, snapping your bikini bottoms against your hips for emphasis. You stared at him intently, letting out soft moans as his lips grazed your inner thighs. He left a trail up both of your thighs, alternating as he pleased. His nose nudged at your clothed clit, making your hips instinctively flicker up. “May I?” You nodded breathlessly, kicking your legs to help him pull your bottoms down. He carelessly tossed them behind him. He pulled back a little to admire you. “Fucking glistening in the sun for me. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He kissed from side to side on your outer lips.

“Shawn,” you whined while squirming. “Do something.” 

“Anything for my pretty,” Kiss. “Pretty.” Another. “Girl.” His lips were everywhere but where you needed him. This was supposed to be about you forgiving him, but he knew the more he built you up, the more you would thank him later. He stuck his tongue out, finally, licking flat against you, from top to bottom. You jolted, your thighs temporarily tightening around his head. As his tongue lapped at you, he took both hands and rubbed the outside of your leg, then pushed them further apart. “Gotta open up for me, honey.” 

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. He was too busy. His tongue flicked repeatedly from your hole to your clit, like the boxing reflex ball he was always working out on at the gym. This tongue never let up, and just like during his workouts he was beginning to form a light sheen of sweat over his back. After he was sure you wouldn’t close up on him, he moved one of his hands to spread you open, allowing for direct access to your swollen, little clit. He moaned into you at the same time you screaming out for him. His left hand snaked down to palm himself. “Fucking taste so good, just dripping on my tongue, honey. Am I making you feel good?” You were having trouble forming thoughts with his tongue swishing back and forth over you.

“Yes!” Your hips were trashing now, completely moving on their own. He was switching between kissing and sucking now. 

“Shhh,” he calmed you while only speeding up his actions, the vibrations causing you to lurch up. He pulled away from you, chin shining and covered in you. “Could never listen to me could you?” he chuckled to himself, even though you were currently giving him daggers. He pressed three soft kisses to your clit. “That’s okay. Still love you.” He moved up your body. “Love every time you let me see you like this, so vulnerable, all for me.” He was not at your hips, softly biting and smoothing over the areas with his tongue. “Love how you take care of me.” He was caressing your sides, both hands touching and part of your body he could reach. “Love waking up to this every day,” he revealed, kissing from your belly button to the tops of your breasts. He closed his eyes and moaned into you. “Fuck, I love these.” His hands were tweaking your left nipple as his tongue began to assault your right. He loved watched the way they reacted to his touch, perking up with the softest of pulls. 

“Shawnn.” Your broken moans did something to him that he couldn’t explain if he tried. “Please?” you begged, and by the desperation in your voice, he knew you were ready. You whimpered when he came up to your neck instead of going back towards your dripping pussy. 

“Don’t whine, wanna see you when you cum all over me. That okay, honey?” His voice was too sweet for what was coming out of it. 

“Y-yes.” You nodded fervently, not caring what he did, as long as you got to cum. He smiled and kissed you sweetly. You were getting lost into the feeling of tasting yourself on his tongue. He knew you too well. He swallowed your screams and two fingers pushed inside you. The pads of his fingers went exploring inside you, rubbing your walls over and over. He was relishing in the feeling of you fluttering around him. When he pulled back slightly, he took mental pictures of how beautiful your face looked all scrunched up in pleasure just for him. 

“You are fucking breathtaking,” he huffed out, trying to stay focus while you were squeezing the life out of his fingers. You were so close he could feel it. He was pressing kisses to any part of your face he could reach. “Could ya let go for me, (Y/N)? I’ve got you, just wanna see my pretty girl cum under me, just wanna make you feel good. Are you close, hun? Are you gonna cum for me? Wanna see my good girl,” he moaned softly, directly into your ear. The next few strokes were particularly hard on your g-spot and you felt the orgasm ready to crash over you like a wave. You forced your eyes open, staring straight into his eyes with your mouth open, but unable to form any words. He was grinning now, from ear to ear. “That’s it, (Y/N). Just like that, let it go.” Your legs were shaking as you tossed your head back and threw your arm over your mouth to muffle your screams. The orgasm took over your whole body, and Shawn didn’t let up until you were twitching, trying to pushback from how good it felt. 

“S-Shawn, no more,” you moaned brokenly. He placed his other hand over your tummy and pressed. 

“Feel me so deep don’t you, honey? Feels good, doesn’t it? Your little clit is jumping for me,” he said looking down at his hands rubbing against you. He knew, watching and feeling your body react under his touch, he could pull one more out of you. “Hang on, love. Gimme one more, yeah? Just one more wanna make you feel so good.” You were biting then flesh on the inside of your forearm, not sure of anything else to quiet yourself. You were squeezing around him impossibly tight, so instead of adding a third finger, he settled for rubbing your clit. His hand was flying back and forth so fast, he knew you had no choice but to cum again. You moved your arm from your face, and he saw that look again. “That’s it. There’s my girl, my good girl.” There it was again, the praise that made your skin warm. 

“Shawn.” The moans were music to his ears. 

“Go ahead.” With this orgasm, your back wasn’t even touching the chair. The tingles were traveling through your body at lightning speed. You couldn’t think about anything. You felt weightless. You didn’t even hear Shawn coaxing you back to him, calloused fingertips running all along your body. “Did so, so well for me.” You shot him a lazy smile, and he moved you so he could position you on top of his chest. You were still hazy as you curled into his chest. His hands carded through your hair, and he kissed your temple. “Thank you for coming here with me, loving me, and making anywhere I go with you feel like paradise.”