#someone please tell me if it didn’t go under the cut this is my first time doing this

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

[lidiasloca]

can i request a funny drabble? one with nyx being friends with reader for and she finally meets feyre and rhysand and she whispers to him,

” i see where you get your looks from, your mom and dad are dilfs snd milfs ”

and anytime they’re out she always kind of flirts with feyre and says hi ms archereon with a smile.

meeting the high lord and high lady

nyx x reader - rhys x reader - feyre x reader

fluff

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

you knew who your best friend’s parents were. of course you knew. it was, in a way, the reason why you had become friends. 

on the first day at the training camp, you saw him there, alone, no one brave enough to speak to the high lord and lady’s only son. 

but you couldn’t have cared less when the most powerful boy in the camp set eyes on you and asked if he could borrow your wooden sword, having lost his. his words were soft, and his eyes so timid – you instantly knew you’d be great friends.

and you are now. such good friends that he finally asked you to meet his parents. it was no big deal meeting your friend’s parents – unless they were none other than the high lords of your court.

so, you were very, very nervous. 

“alright, i’m going to knock now, okay?” nyx asked, holding his hand up. “calm down.”

“i am calm.” you clearly were not. 

his lips formed a thin line, obviously holding back a remark. then, he finally knocked.

and – oh gods.

you could almost hear your friend’s words echo in your head. “act normal, stupid.”

but how could you? in front of you stood a literal goddess. no, it was beauty in the form of a female.

“hi! you must be y/n.” she smiled, and you felt like swooning. “i’m feyre. nice to meet you.”

“you are so beautiful,” you found yourself whispering.

her smile turned into a surprised beam, and from the corner of your eye, you saw the mortification of her son.

“thank you, love. you’re a beauty yourself.”

you chuckled nervously, almost ready to jump into her arms.

was it crazy to propose to her on your knees right there in front of nyx?

“let’s get inside, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled in irritation. your best friend had told you how he always had to endure people drooling over his parents, and now you understood why.

“language,” feyre warned, and it was the most beautiful threat you had ever heard someone sing. gods – you had to play it cooler than this.

“could you behave, y/n?” he whisper-yelled as you followed feyre into the house.

you gave him a nod, accompanied by a cheeky grin that told him you were no longer nervous, just excited to spend the whole dinner watching his beautiful mother. by the way his sharp eyes glared at you, you knew he was not happy about it.

“rhys! they’re here!”

“coming,” a masculine voice called from somewhere far off. if the male was half as beautiful as his raspy voice, you knew you were really going to swoon.

you almost had to catch yourself when the high lord appeared through the door. “oh, gods.”

nyx elbowed you hard, but you couldn’t care less as the male smiled at you. “i’m rhysand. and you are?”

you couldn’t form any words, but the cauldron gifted you with feyre’s enchanting voice to help. “she’s y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated, and it sounded heavenly. “great to meet you.”

“is dinner ready?” nyx cut in, clearly tired of this.

“yes, it is,” rhysand responded, his sharp eyes telling his son to act nicer. “and i hope you don’t mind,” he continued, now looking at you, “a friend is coming over to dine with us.”

“uncle cassian?” your friend asked.

“not exactly,” another voice you didn’t recognize answered. and – what a voice...

“please tell me it’s not azriel – y/n is going to swoon,” nyx muttered under his breath, but you heard it perfectly well. in fact, it was the last thing you heard before the most handsome male walked into the room.

“i’m azriel. nice to meet you.”

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

a/n: guys! lizzy mcalpine's "come down soon" is so so great. no, but really, go listen it, bc wow. well, hope you like this fic, if you did, maybe go check my masterlist :))

[thesockghost]

!pretty big gore/body horror warning! along with spoilers for the Lunar and Earth show!

Veiw under cut!

Lunar and Earth show: “dazzle was a kid at July 16th!”

Me: *cracks open procreate and a body horror playlist*

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SNEAKY !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: lewis was known for his year-end parties. the grid would be shocked to find out what else he was known for.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, lewis and reader on their sneaky link behaviour, p in v penetration, doggy or whatever pierre said, filthy, dom!lewis energy, fucking in a club bathroom vibes, utter nonsense— just lewis being filthy as fuck, drivers being drunk (max, charles and lando), bit of a twist at the end but not really???

rec music: disco tits by tove lo

note: shout out to @daaiissyyyyy for listening to my recent fever ramble at 11 pm— she gave me the thought to write for lewis after giving this music prompt eheh. i’m sick of sf23 and w14 so now i’m just writing ✨fuckall✨ enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

lewis was known for a lot of things: his sense of fashion, desire to make panty-dropping songs, his impressive record in formula one and of course…

the extravagant parties that never failed to live up to everyone’s expectations. 

now this was the first time he’s hosted a big party in his new york penthouse since his previous championship win before covid — 2019.

and 2023 was the most frustrating season for most drivers and lewis hamilton wasn’t an exception to that; after all, most teams splurged as much money as red bull did with their cars yet the crown was handed over to max and the austrian team in a gold plate. 

because of the same results every year, the brit couldn’t find himself to care much about it anymore.

instead, after the abu dhabi race he texted the group chat and invited them over for a party he was going to host after the prize giving ceremony. 

yet, when the drivers came over to his penthouse with their girlfriends and their peers — the host was found nowhere in sight. 

tove lo’s music boomed loudly as sweaty bodies hit the dance floor. the world champion - max verstappen - was chatting with the ferraris and lando about whatever the fuck he was planning to do during the break. most drivers were dancing and drinking. 

yet, amongst the sea of intoxicated and desperate people, none of them were lewis.

he was known for his parties. but what they didn’t know was that his parties were nothing but excuses to feel the adrenaline rush pump through his bloodstream without taking the drugs for it.

because he was upstairs in his room, thick cock spearing inside someone’s cunt as the woman screamed silently. her manicured nails clutching the sheets under her as drool escaped her mouth, her head down while her ass was arched up. 

lewis grunted as he lustfully traced down her spine and smacked her ass. “god, fuck! such a good pussy, doll.” 

“lew- lewis, fuck,” she cursed him in a foreign language that he couldn’t care to understand, her eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck her from behind. “i feel so full, oh~ god~ yes- yes- keep fucking me like that.”

“like this?” she let out a pitiful whine when he moved and roughly hit her sensitive spot with his cock.

her head was pushed against the mattress as she whined, his cock rubbing against the spot repeatedly while she inaudibly babbled. 

he demanded firmly, “you gotta tell me how do i fuck you, baby, otherwise i’m not gonna—“

“—fuck! yes, keep hitting that spot please,” she cried out, tears threatening fall from the pleasure she felt. 

in the moment of grunting and whining, no one downstairs could hear them as they fucked like rabbits in heat. thank god for the party that lewis had paid for. if anyone ever found out, they’d immediately assume that he only hosted this just to get her away from everyone. 

her walls clenched around him as he moaned aloud, “this pussy is so good— so tight f’me, princess.” 

the tip of his cock hit her cervix as she cried, “please lewis, please— wanna cum~”

“mmh~ god,” lewis groaned loudly, his deep lusty voice echoing inside the room alongside the slapping of their skins and her moans. “gonna cum soon, baby— gonna be a good girl and cum with me?”

“mhm yeah,” she nodded. 

“good because— ah~ keep doin’ that- i’m- ah fuck!” lewis grunted as his thrusting slowed. she came, too, her walls clenching around him still as she reached her climax and the sense of euphoria washed over her. 

lewis’ face was beaded with sweat and pleasure, leaning forward for a brief moment to keep his composure. his cock remained inside her as he pulled up her head and tangled his tongue with hers. 

he sighed, the sound of contentment covering up her quivering breath as he smirked mischievously.

this was a celebration, indeed.

this, however, was a celebration for the two of them only. this was how she rewarded him for putting up with this season, and lewis simply accepted her reward without hesitation.

after all, not everyone in the grid got to get a taste of her. if everyone found out, they’d be jealous. for one driver, they’d be furious— but lewis couldn’t find himself to care right now.

“lewis!” ten minutes later, charles, max and lando found the older british driver in his minibar. 

lewis looked at the trio with curious eyes as charles started, “have you seen max’s sister?”

lewis’ eyes narrowed for a brief moment, “max’s… sister?” he then looked at max with a questioning look.

“yeah, my eldest sister— i brought her tonight. you’ve met her earlier, remember?” the world champion asked lewis with the naivety that everyone else carried in the room. 

oh, lewis had met her, alright. 

he met her tonight. and the races before tonight. and the summer break. and almost everyday. not that the world champion had a knowledge of it. 

lewis let out an ‘ah’ as if he realized who the dutchman was talking about, “that sister! i think i’ve seen her—“

“mon sœur!” my sister! charles exclaimed, slurring out his words as he pointed at the direction of the staircase. “wait… max’s sister!”

there stood max’s sister, who looked less frazzled and fucked out than what she looked like ten minutes ago.

lewis almost chuckled. she’s quick to pretend like she hadn’t had a cock inside her just about now— that’s what lewis loved about her. she knew when to play pretend. 

max’s eyes narrowed at his sister while she approached the group. she immediately glanced at lewis, who merely smirked at the sight of her. max continued to pester her, “where the hell have you been? we’ve been looking for you for an hour!”

“bullshit,” lando called out with a laugh, “you were fucking singing disco tits the entire time! stop lying to everyone!”

the woman’s head cocked to the side as she smirked at her little brother. max’s face flushed red and shoved lando, “shut up.”

“well, i’m here now— and you’re drunk,” she pointed at max. “we’re going.”

“already???” max whined. “fineeee~”

“alright well,” lewis finally spoke. “it’s nice having you lots here. i’ll catch up with you soon, yeah?” but his eyes remained at the sight of her as he smiled. he wasn’t even talking to max or his friends— but her. 

she smirked too (not that the three younger men noticed) and nodded, “absolutely. we’ll catch up with you soon, lewis. thanks for the invite.” 

and it wasn’t even fifteen minutes later after the verstappen siblings departed when the knighted driver received a text.

the better verstappen 🥰: thanks for the invite, lew 💗 i hope the compensation paid off

lh 🫶: you know that times spent with you are worth more than one shitty season my love 😉

lh 🫶: def made things better after abu dhabi tho. what do you think about going to san marino and bora bora for the long break?

the better verstappen 🥰: for you? i’ll keep excusing myself from max’s family vacation plans baby

♡   moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

[yueebby]

Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)

imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋‍♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭

2:35pm — gojo satoru

synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you

contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him

“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.

The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.

“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.

Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.

Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.

“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.

Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!

“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.

The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.

“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.

You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”

Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”

You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”

…

There is a long silence shared between the four of you.

You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.

“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.

“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”

TEN MINUTES LATER—

“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”

You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.

“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”

You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.

“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.

Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.

You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.

Squish!

The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.

“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”

Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.

Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”

You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.

“My face next.”

extras:

- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.

- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).

[saetoru]

[ REACH ] SCARAMOUCHE.

scaramouche is awkward the first time he lays beside you, rigid and hardly relaxed when his body slides under the covers—you’d almost think he doesn’t want to be near you if you didn’t know him any better. you keep a small distance between you both when you see the way he seems to stiffen the closer you get, whispering a soft goodnight before closing your eyes.

what you don’t seem to see, however, is the way his eyes wander to your figure every few seconds, lingering over your face and raking over your features. you don’t see the way his eyes soften when you curl into the sheets for warmth. you don’t see the way his hand reaches out as you sleep, a little shaky at first—hesitant. he brushes a finger against your cheek as if testing the waters—and then he retreats almost immediately.

because you look delicate like this, soft and fragile, too easy to disappear suddenly, like you were never there to begin with. he doesn’t think he should be here beside you—but then you crinkle your nose in your slumber, and despite his better judgement, he smiles a little at the sight. his fingers run over the swell of your cheeks and brush over the bridge of your nose, delicately tracing the skin as he maps your features.

it’s not until you nibble on his fingertip as he traces your bottom lip does he realize you’re now awake.

“what are you—”

“how romantic,” you tease, grinning cheekily as your eyes flutter open, “and here i almost thought you didn’t like me for a bit.”

“that’s because i don’t like you,” he grunts, pushing you away (though gently) as you scoot closer and wriggle your brows.

“if you wanted to cuddle, you could just ask,” you giggle, and he glares.

you’ve always been bold, far bolder than he should let you get away with—but you throw him the bright grin you always do, and somehow he finds himself softening the harsh edges, like the glass is rounded so he doesn’t cut you as you reach your hand out.

“i don’t,” he huffs, “now go to sleep.”

there’s a slight pout on his face—though, you don’t think he realizes as much, and pointing it out would only sour his mood more. so you smile to yourself, taking in the way his hand falls limply onto the mattress beside him.

if he craves to reach for you again, to feel the warmth of your skin press against the tips of his fingers one more time, he makes no indication of it. scaramouche never reaches first—he simply tolerates your back hugs and linked arms, let’s you follow him around and maybe even hold his hand if he’s in a good mood. there’s always a disgruntled protest, however weak it might be, but just like always, he never pulls away.

and something tells you he doesn’t want to—something about the way his expression breaks for a swift moment before it’s hardened again tells you that maybe he needs your touch more than you need his.

so you flick his forehead, make his brows furrow and his chest ache with that smile you shoot him, the same one that soothes over the cracks the world has left in him over the years and fills them until he’s whole. “i would be asleep, if someone didn’t wake me.”

he hates that you’re right—but more than anything, he hates how easily you trust him. he hates how easy it is for his harsh glares to go ignored, how easy it is not to care about his bitter words and cold resolve, how easy it is to give and give when you get nothing in return. and because you never seem to care just how hard it is to love someone like scaramouche, you wrap yourself around his arm, making him stiffen with a scowl.

“hey, get off,” he says—but even as he pokes your shoulder to make a point, he makes no moves to pull away. it tells you enough, you think, it tells you everything you need to know.

please don’t ever let go.

“are you sure you want that, kuni?” you hum, reaching to poke his cheek, “you sure seem to like touching me—”

“i’ve had enough,” he grunts, “you can go sleep in another bed.”

“this is my bed,” you snort.

you’re right again, which only makes him ten times more irritated, but maybe…maybe he’s also ten times more in love. he wonders for a moment—thinks whether or not someday he can really bring himself to admit it.

so for now, he doesn’t pull away—and he hopes that’s enough to make you keep reaching out.

“whatever,” he mutters, and almost too swiftly, as if he wills himself to do it before he can change his mind, his arm tugs you closer against his side, letting your head fall to his chest. “i’d say it’s ours now,” he says quietly.

you grin, reaching a hand out to grab his, squeezing gently as your fingers lace with his.

and when you whisper, “goodnight, kuni,” with a kiss to his chest, he doesn’t pull away.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

i’m posting this and running away bc i hate it lmao bye

[killsaki]

aspirations ☆ your boss doesn’t understand why you let unimportant things hold you back when you can do better.

prohero!bakugou katsuki x f!sidekick!reader

3.8k words | old commission <3 | minors dni

cw / tw : cheating (not on reader), toxic relationship dynamics (not w/ bkg), fingering, blackmail, power dynamics.

this is… awkward.

bakugou katsuki feels awkward.

even in his pro-hero status, even with his usual lack of care for others and their affairs, standing at the door of his office, hearing you cry just outside of it... it’s the first time in a long time that he’s been made so… uncomfortable.

you’d come halfway across the country to work as a sidekick at the agency he ran with his old classmate, you were a promising upcoming hero who would surely do numbers once you got the right exposure and the right training. that’s the reason you picked up and moved so damn far from your hometown, from your life, from your boyfriend. at least that’s what you’ve babbled on about to bakugou while the two of you were on patrols.

you were under the impression you’d be working under deku at first and when you’d found out you were going to be working alongside dynamight you’d nearly pissed yourself and gone home, you admitted while slapping his shoulder with a laugh. something which you instantly apologized for and smoothed a hand over where you’d hit as if you’d caused the tank of a man any harm and needed to soothe the pain. you’d admit that he was far from the personality he portrayed for the media and that you’d come to enjoy being around him.

that’s why this was so weird for him. you were always so positive, a clumsy sort of happy. you were always shining, continuing conversations with him even as he shrugged you off, always laughing and tossing some kind of witty remark after he’d tell you to shut up. you were annoying at some point, but you’d pulled your weight during missions and you were a shoulder for him to lean on when he got injuries too severe to keep himself upright. you made the halls of the agency a friendlier place than they’d ever been, even with the kind and smiling hero working just on the other side of the building.

so, who could make someone like you weep like a child?

“you know i get paid in a few days, i can send it back to you.” you speak through a shaky breath and bakugou can’t help but lean closer to the thin wood that separates the two of you. “it’s not like that!” you hiccup, “you’re the one who asked if you could keep my car until i can help you get yours fixed.” the white in front of him blurs as he sorts through his thoughts, who could you possibly be having to explain yourself to? “toru, please. i just want to go to sleep, today was hard enough already.” the boyfriend. “so you really won’t pay for my uber because you’re mad about a picture of me and my boss? a picture of us doing our–”

bakugou doesn’t know why he does it, why he swings the door open and stares at you with such an annoyed expression. but he’s already doing it before he realizes and he regrets it when you jump, cutting yourself short.

“sorry,” you stare at him for a moment, taking in short breaths before you quickly wipe your face, and turn away from him. sniffling as the voice over the other end starts to become intelligible to the hero. “i just wanna get home, i’m just.. i’m sorry.”

there’s a short reply given and then, silence. it takes you a minute, and bakugou stands there waiting the entire time before you pull your phone away from your ear. the screen displaying your wallpaper, signaling that the other person had ended the call.

“i didn’t know you were still here.” you look up at one of the only fluorescent lights left on, blinking away the remnants of water in your eyes.

he sighs, checking the time on his watch before looking back up at you who has yet to spare him another glance. the trains had stopped running long ago, he didn’t need to check the time to tell him that. no, he was just checking to see how fucked up your boyfriend had to be to leave you walking on the streets at the hour, or in the hands of a stranger to get home. and it’s not that you weren’t capable on your own, more so that the guy didn’t understand how much danger it’d be if someone picked up on that pattern and took advantage of you being so tired from a full day's work. he wonders if even you have thought about that. or if that’s what you were thinking about now, as you stand in silence in a way that he’s never witnessed you do before

“i can give you a ride.” he offers and your eyes fall shut, a deep breath making your chest puff slightly and the blonde can’t help but pick up on your relief.

“i’d appreciate that.”

it’s a long, awkward walk out of the agency’s building to where he’s parked his car nearly a block away. the wind is blowing and he couldn’t imagine having to walk home himself like this.

“why don’t you park at the agency’s lot?” you ask arms wrapped around yourself. your voice is still soft but he doesn’t comment on it.

“safer for me not to, i change parking spots every few weeks.” he shrugs.

“you sure do think about everything, don't you, dynamight?” you tease, and it’s like you’re recovering bits of yourself that he can recognize.

“guess so.” he shrugs instead of lecturing you about how you should do the same, another thought too busy working it’s way from his mind to his mouth. “so why are you paying to fix his car while he uses yours?” bakugou lets his thoughts fall off his tongue, and answers your wandering mind that he did overhear most of your conversation.

“i have the job that pays more.” you reach for the seatbelt, buckling it before looking over the console and catching the red eyes that watch you so intently. “why? you looking for a cause to donate to?”

he sucks his teeth and buckles himself in, instructing you to put in your address on the car’s screen. you say something that makes yourself laugh as you lean in to do it, but it goes in one of his ears and out the other. it didn’t make any sense for you to be with someone who didn’t support you fully, someone who didn’t trust you. sure bakugou didn’t know all the details of your relationship– maybe you’d offered it up to him one day when he was too focused on how your eyes lit up to pay attention to what you'd been saying to him. but he wouldn’t know that now.

why would you of all people put up with that?

“are you gonna take me home or should i be fearing for my safety?” you raise your eyebrows to exaggerate a skeptical look, something that the blonde’s face twists up and makes you laugh. but the thought of your tears streaked face earlier appears back in his mind and he decides to let you off without a remark of his own.

“you could’ve just asked for a ride.” he glances over at you once he rolls up to a stop light and his heart feels like, just for a moment, that it stops. the sight of you under such soft red light, lips still swollen from the way you’d bitten them as you calmed yourself from crying, it does more to him than he’d like to admit. it takes everything in him to tear his gaze back to the road once the traffic signal turns green.

“if toru found out i was alone with you outside of work, let alone in your car,” you huff out an unamused laugh and it sounds awful in comparison to the sweet, hearty one he’s grown used to. “he would have a fit.”

“sounds like a real perfect guy.” bakugou doesn’t look at you as he follows the gps and turns the next corner, but he can feel your eyes on him. how they trace from the neons shining off his wristwatch up his toned arms that are littered in pink scars, can feel the heat of your stare when it’s guided to his chin where he wonders if you can see the stubble he didn’t care enough to shave away this morning.

“he’s alright.” you finally respond and it makes the prohero next to you feel ill. “my high school sweetheart and all… i’m sure it’s just a rough patch.”

“right.” it wasn’t his place to meddle into whatever you have going on in your personal life. but you were one to look at the brighter side of things, he wonders if that was something you’d always done or something you forced yourself into. “a rough patch.”

the time of arrival for the destination keeps creeping closer and bakugou doesn’t know why it’s bothering him so badly.

“thanks for the ride home, mr dynamight, sir.” you salute him and he just blinks, making you giggle as you gather your things from his car.

“bakugou,” he takes your cup from his console, despite the passing thought that the colors look nice against the ones of his car’s interior. “calling me bakugou outside the workplace is fine.”

you hesitate before taking the cup, and he hates the smile that creeps up on your face when you finally do grab it from him. why the hell would he say something unprofessional like that?

you skip off with a “goodnight, mr. bakugou, sir.” and head up to your front door without catching the sight of how dramatically he rolls his eyes, or the slight lift of his lips when he thinks about how your voice sounds addressing him as something other than his trademarked name.

and from there, it’s a slippery slope, he comes to realize.

one ride turns into twenty and soon enough he’s sitting in his office chair every night waiting for you to come to tell him that you’re ready to go home.

he finds the same kind of habit forms around your shared lunch break when the two of you are working in the office rather than on the field. you’d always walked past his office, but after a comment on one of those drives to your place, you’d started to welcome yourself into his office to compare lunches. and now he can't seem to bring himself to take a bite until you’ve wandered in and finished your bit.

like now, he sits with the same lunch he’s been eating since monday because he meal prepped this week, and he needs you to come in and tell him how boring it must be eating the same thing over and over. his fingertips pad impatiently at the wood of his desk, you're always in here by now.. now that he thinks about it, you hadn’t come to ask if his coffee was bitter after getting it for him this morning.

his phone buzzing in his slacks pulls him from the thought and throws him into another one.

deku: hey, i know you’re being kind to the sidekick and all… but didn’t you say her boyfriend would be mad if he knew you were giving her rides? you should think about how that would affect her working here.

the blonde sighs and he doesn’t even want to respond to the message. he’s already on edge after starving off his lunch, plus the fact you’re not being normal today, why is midoriya suddenly interested in how your professional relationship affects your at home life?

bakugou: would you rather some villain stalk her schedule and kidnap the sidekick that you requested to come out here?

he types out, and he’s right. he knows he’s right, he’s keeping you safe by picking you up and dropping you off from his car's undisclosed location.

deku: that’s not what i meant

bakugou taps the side of his phone as the three dots come and go as midoriya no doubt types up a paragraph that bakugou will most likely not read. where the hell are you?

bakugou: i’m just making sure she gets home alright.

he sends, hoping it’ll be enough to end the conversation. he locks his phone and places it on the table next to his meal, the meal that, after eyeing the door once more, he starts to dig into. it’s a few minutes before he gets the next notification, but when he reads it, he’s stuck staring at the chair you’re supposed to be in while he finishes eating.

deku: are you sure that’s all it is?

—

the two of you have grown close. that much is obvious to everyone who witnesses you by his side. he wouldn’t call himself fond of you, but he knows it’d be a lie to say he hates your presence, or that he doesn’t mind the absence of it. what he doesn’t understand is why the feeling in his chest is so intense when you walk in for your routine ride home with a blank expression and a single piece of paper in your hand.

“what is this?” he accepts it as you offer, and he’s half expecting it to be some stupid printed-out meme, or maybe even you showing off an email about a magazine cover that you landed. but instead, it’s formally addressed to him as–

“my letter of resignation.”

to say bakugou is confused is an understatement.

“i enjoyed working by your side. it was an experience i am sure will forever remain unmatched in my career.” your voice is shaking. the blonde tries to focus on the words in ink in front of him but nothing seems to register even as he eyes them over and over. “i’m very thankful for the time i was allowed to spend here, please don’t think otherwise. i’ll be sure to thank mr. deku as well for giving me the opportunity since–”

“why are you leaving?” his words come harsh, his face twisted up in a way he’s never shown to you and he’s not surprised when even then you don’t finch much.

“i need to go back home.” is all you let out, looking everywhere but at him.

he sits on it for a moment, that feeling in his chest starts to swell as he realizes the motives behind your actions today, behind this damn resignation letter.

“don’t you wanna be a big name pro?” he discard the paper on his desk as he pushes himself out of his chair to approach you. “so why are you throwing away your best chance— your only real chance at that for some small-town boyfriend?”

your eyes go wide as they tear from the back of his computer monitor to look into his own. the look of offense on your face is prominent but it’s nothing in comparison to the offense bakugou feels.

“it’s so much more than just my boyfriend.” you scoff, eyebrows knitting together. “what would you know?! you’re just my boss, you have no idea what my relationship is like.”

he’s never seen you mad before, you look… good.

“i know you’re sending money back home to cover his expenses. i know you’re paying for everything you have here all on your own.” he steps towards you with each sentence, making you take a step back in time with his strides. “i know he doesn’t check to see if you make it home safe, i know you’ve slept on the floor because you can’t afford furniture and food.”

you might not have told him much about your boyfriend, but he does know that he doesn’t deserve you... not the way that bakugou does.

“i never told you any of that..” your hand feels for the arm of the couch you’ve been backed into.

“you’re obvious.” he shrugs and it’s now that you start to breathe in short pants, your eyes dart to the door— unlocked but closed. then to his chest— he’s big, much bigger than you, stronger than you. “the last thing i would do is hurt you.” he tilts his head and your breathing clams, if only a little.

“sorry, i don’t know what i was thinking.” you whisper, you bring a hand to your forehead as you fall to sit on the arm of the couch. “today has just been... it’s been too much.”

bakugou nods. he hasn’t seen you cry since the first time he cared to listen to you speak. he doesn’t want to see that again, but he’d be bitter if the chance of it was taken away from him altogether.

“but you’ll stay.”

“i– i can’t stay. i’ll lose toru, i’ll lose the house,” you start gesturing around at nothing, voice sounding hollow. “i can’t stay bakugou.”

“if you go there’ll be nothing waiting for you.” he shrugs, grabbing your hands when they freeze. “i have toru’s information already. i’ll send him one of the many pictures you’d decided to take on my phone, while you were in my car.” the words taste awful off bakugou’s tongue but he doesn’t stop speaking them.

“why would you?” he can’t bring himself to look at your expression anymore.

“i wouldn’t even need to say anything then, i think that’d be enough.” you make a choked sound and he’s sure there are tears in your eyes. “so you’ll stay here.”

“that’s not fair.” your hands fall limp in his hold and he finally looks at you, the tears stream down your face and bakugou doesn’t even know what he’s doing anymore.

“your boyfriend’s in the way of your dream.” he swallows, convincing both you and himself but his sure tone never falters. “you can’t do anything for yourself if you go back to him. you can’t accomplish anything unless you’re here,” you blink away the tears, big eyes staring up at him. “unless you’re with me.”

you take in a shaky breath through trembling lips but nod all the same. you lean forward to rest against bakugou’s hard abdomen, your hands falling from his hold as you move. he has to stop himself from letting out a smug chuckle at the way you instantly come to him for comfort, to think you’d almost slipped through his hands.

“i’m tired of thinking about this.” you hiccup and throw yourself back on the cushions with one arm thrown over your eyes. parts of yourself that bakugou could recognize returning once again, only the way your head rolls to your shoulder and the look in your eyes as you peek up at him is something he’s never seen from you before. “help me?”

what you’d been alluding to is made clear when you reach out a hand for him, one that he doesn’t hesitate to take. he doesn’t even bother to speak any other word before he’s pressing his lips into your own, strong arms maneuvering you on the uncomfortable faux leather so quick it makes a loud noise as your skin rubs against it. he nearly moans at the way your arms wrap around his neck, the way they tangle into and tug at his hair while he slots himself between your legs.

the instant you press your hips up against him, he realizes how wrong he’s been. bakugou does favor you, he favors everything about you. he favors the way you talk shit to him, the way you laugh, the way you roll your eyes, how differently you act in interviews versus in his office, and he favors more than anything how you feel pressed up against him.

he all but tears your shirt off of you, and then your pants, both thrown to a grave somewhere on the rugged floor. his hands are rough as they glide down your body. his pads press in between your collarbones down between your breast, round your ribs, and down to squeeze at your hips.

“hurry up,” you whine, bringing your heel up to push at the waistband of his pants.

“always rushin’ me.” he sucks his teeth, but his voice is soft as he speaks.

he shivers at the sounds you make from his fingers gliding along the seat of your panties, barely damp, likely from your nerves— but bakugou can fix that. kisses are pressed to your neck, something much sweeter than anyone would expect, aside from of course you. you, the sweet little thing who saw past the hard shell everyone else encased him in, though he didn’t do much to prevent it.

his thumb finds its way to your clit, pressing circles on it through the fabric and your head falls back against the cushions, small gasps and whines following his every movement. it’s not until you start to push against him that he finally pulls your underwear to the side.

your sounds easily double in volume when he finally makes contact with your heat directly, a few more wet shapes rubbed into your clit before his fingers trail down to your entrance and you pull him by his hair from your neck, forcing him into a kiss while he presses a single thick digit into you. he rolls his wrist, hoping to stretch you a bit more before adding another, but your desperate hands wind into his shirt and he can’t help but give in.

he adds another and scissors them inside you, prodding to find that spot that had your lips parting, mind and body have given up on being able to kiss him as the pleasure takes over you. you’re dripping down his hand by the time you start babbling nonsense, and it’s all he can do to fuck his fingers into you despite the way you claw at his back, how your legs squeeze around him, and your pussy clamps down on him.

and when his name tumbles out somewhere along your nonsense as you cream down into his palm, for the first time in a long time, bakugou feels warm inside, something beyond the heat between his legs.

he lets you hold him while your breathing settles, even keeps his fingers inside you as you come back down to earth. he wants so bad to fuck you right now, to have you cry his name again and again as you make a mess on his cock this time... but he also wants to never let you move from under him, to keep himself wrapped around you at all times.

“i don’t wanna sleep on the floor anymore,” you whisper, and the blonde wonders how your boyfriend would feel if he knew that forcing you to turn in a resignation would lead to you being putty in his hands.

“come sleep at my place.”

you nod against him and, slowly, he helps to clean and dress you before you let him drag you off the couch.

“you’re always so helpful, baku’.” you rub your eyes as you lean against him, mindlessly following him to the car you’d been mistaken to get months ago.

but bakugou will later reiterate his intention were just truly just to help. just like when it came to officially end your relationship with toru, which would happen tonight after bakugou sends the loser a picture of you fast asleep in the same bed as pro hero dynamight—right where you should be.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Break Me (Wolverine One Shot)

Summary: Logan tries so desperately to push you away.

Warnings: angst, arguments.

WC: 940ish

Read on Ao3!

The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating. You stood in front of Logan, your hands trembling at your sides, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. His eyes were sharp, full of that unyielding intensity he was known for. But tonight, that intensity was focused entirely on you.

"You can’t keep doing this," you said, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to remain steady. "Every time you push me away, it hurts, Logan. It’s like you’re always looking for a reason to run."

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I’m not good for you," he growled, his voice low and rough. "You think you know me, but you don’t. You don’t know what I’ve done."

"I don’t care!" you shouted, your frustration boiling over. "I don’t care about your past, or what you think you’ve done. I care about you—about who you are now."

But Logan wasn’t listening. His eyes darkened, the walls he’d built around himself growing higher with every word. He turned away from you, running a hand through his disheveled hair as if he was trying to get a grip on himself, on the emotions he refused to acknowledge.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, pacing the room like a caged animal. "You’ll regret this. You’ll regret staying with me. Hell, you’ll regret even meeting me."

You felt the sting of his words like a slap to the face. Logan always had a way of cutting deep, of saying just the right thing to push people away. But this time, you weren’t going to let him. Not without a fight.

"Stop telling me how I’m supposed to feel!" you snapped, stepping forward, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’d kept inside for too long. "I made my choice, Logan. I chose you, knowing everything. And you? You’re the one who’s afraid, not me."

Logan froze at that, his back still turned to you, but his entire body tense, coiled like a spring. For a moment, the only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the silence between you deafening.

He didn’t respond, and that hurt more than anything. The man who could heal from any wound was terrified of letting you heal his heart. It was ironic, tragic even.

"Look at me," you pleaded, your voice softer now, the anger giving way to desperation. "Please, just… look at me."

Slowly, Logan turned, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions you’d rarely seen from him. Anger, frustration, fear… but underneath it all, something softer. Something he was too proud, too stubborn to admit.

"You think you’re better off with me," he said, his voice low and bitter. "But I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll regret this decision forever. You’ll regret tying yourself to someone like me."

The weight of his words hung in the air, but you weren’t going to let him win this fight. Not this time.

"Maybe I will," you said quietly, stepping closer until you were only a few feet away from him. "But that’s my choice. Not yours."

Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his hand. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t pull away. He just stood there, torn between pushing you away again and pulling you close like he always wanted to.

"You deserve better," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. But this time, it didn’t sound like an excuse. It sounded like a confession.

"Maybe," you agreed softly, your gaze steady as you looked up at him. "But I don’t want better. I want you."

There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Logan’s eyes softened, and for the briefest moment, you saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. The man behind the claws, behind the pain.

He sighed, a deep, weary sound, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let his guard down—if only just a little.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," he said, his voice rough but quieter now. "I’m not easy to love."

You smiled, stepping closer until you were inches apart. "Neither am I," you whispered, your hand finally wrapping around his, your touch warm against his skin. "But we’ll figure it out. Together."

Logan looked down at where your hands were joined, his breath hitching slightly as though the simple gesture meant more to him than he could ever say.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the pain—hung in the air between you, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now. It felt manageable. Like something you could handle as long as you faced it together.

Finally, Logan let out a long, ragged breath and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His grip was strong, almost desperate, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you clung to him just as tightly.

"Maybe you’re right," he murmured into your hair, his voice rough but sincere. "Maybe… maybe we can figure this out."

You smiled against his chest, your heart finally calming as the tension between you dissolved. "One step at a time," you whispered, resting your head against him. "That’s all I’m asking for."

And in that moment, as Logan held you close, you knew that no matter how hard things got, no matter how many walls he tried to put up between you, you weren’t going anywhere.

Because some things were worth fighting for—and you would never regret choosing Logan. Not for a second.

[justasecretflower]

HIII!! ermm this is my first time requesting something so idk if I'm doing something wrong, but I saw the Ticci Toby dating before he became a proxy can we pretty please have one where we meet him after he became a proxy? Tyyy!!! (You can just ignore this if you're already making something similar or you just don't want to do it) 🤍🖤

Hi chérie! I love this idea hon:)! When requesting creepypasta you put the “🥀” emoji if you wanna request more :). Love you sm!

🥀- Meeting Ticci Toby! Again after dating him before he was a proxy 🤍

Synopsis- you meet ticci Toby in the woods after you haven’t seen him for years. What’s his reaction?

~fluff.

____________________________________________.

- seeing the boy you once loved years ago, now a hatchet in his hands with somebody’s blood smeared on his clothes is certainly a tough sight.

- you were out for a walk in the woods expecting it to be quiet, not expecting to see him..

- his eyes would soften, his shoulders slump and letting go of the hatchet as it slipped out of his grasp.

- he scans over your body head to toe, examining the slight changes within you. He soaks up every bit of it.

————————————————————————

The crickets hopped through the thick blades of grass, fireflies popped out occasionally, lighting up a tiny patch of darkness throughout the forest. It was peaceful, just the way I liked it. The peace coddled me and made me feel snug, like I was wrapped in a quilt.

Hearing some footsteps my eyes quickly snap to look where the source of the sound was, my heart thumping and my body tensing with goosebumps decorating my skin. Then I see him, face to face with a man I used to love. That I mourned when he went missing, that I cried millions of raging oceans of tears for. He had changed tremendously. He grew a good couple of inches / a foot on me (depending on how tall u are.) his face got severely scarred, like his face got cut into, and he had blood splattered on his coat, hands, and hatchet that he was carrying. I didn’t know what happened, I don’t even wanna picture it, but the thoughts telling me I knew what happened, and throwing pictures into my head of my Toby taking someone’s life make me slap a hand over my mouth and take a shaky breath in.

His hazel eyes go through a mix of emotion. Anger, confusion, realization, then landing on a softened look of affection, like our memories together are just now hitting him. I can’t speak. Even if I want to. “Y-Y/n..” he whispers my name like a prayer, soft spoken, promising, gentle, honest.

My hand shakily reaches back down. “Toby.” I echo back. My voice almost a fleeting breath, just barely a whisper. He keeps getting closer, and my breathing keeps getting more shallow with every crunch of the fiery leaves under his boots.

We’re just a couple inches to a foot away from each other now. I can see his dark hazel eyes, that I used to look into before kissing him, the messy brown hair I used to thread between my fingertips , the lips I used to laugh into a kiss on, he pulls so many strings on my heart by just looking at me. Like he’s playing a heavenly harp and I’m just standing here, soaking up his presence.

“I m-missed y-you.” And the walls crumble down, the strings break.

____________________________________________

- he stalks you for a bit, deciding to leave small things he found like pinecones and wildflowers at your porch.

- he makes it clear that he’s sending it.

- eventually, he starts giving them to you in person, starting to talk to you more and more.

- you learned about what happened, and what he does. You’re not thrilled, but you can’t stop what you’re feeling.

- whenever he’s with you, he goes back to a time when he didn’t have any blood on his hands, when he looked up to the stars and kissed you under them, when there were fleeting kisses under the covers and comforting snuggles.

- you’re his warmth.

- unlike him, you didn’t change for the worse, And you’re doing amazing in life, which makes him so happy.

- he knows you find his killing distasteful, so whenever he goes out to kill, he comes back and just.. grips onto you, sinking on his knees and mumbling stuff about how he loves you, he missed you, and how much he’s sorry that he ended up like this. Clothes all bloody and dirty, dirt caking his face with somebody’s blood on his hands.

- his love language is touch..WOAH!!

- his hand is always in yours, finger tips to finger tips, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, kissing softly, tight hugs, loving embraces.

- refuses to get you involved with slender. You’re the only thing in his life that doesn’t revolve around killing, the creeps, and gruesome settings, you’re what brings him back to simpler times, he 100% preserves that.

- “Angel” because you saved him yet again in hard times.

- “sunshine” because you’re the only thing that shines in his horribly dark life (corny but true.)

- cares about your safety and gets you like a thousand locks for your doors and windows, even gifted you a hatchet to match his right next to your bed if something happens while he’s gone.

- he doesn’t mess around when it comes to you. No one touches or hurts his angel.

- sometimes he’ll just..come behind you, interlace your fingers and kiss your lips softly, telling you he loves you.

- he’s so little spoon core.

- he lays on your chest, curls his whole body into you.

- you’re his whole world<3…

___________________________________________

If you guys want more creepypasta make sure to use the “🥀” emoji with your request!!

Tags

[vettelsvee]

OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN SERIES | Lewis Hamilton

f1 masterlist | ask me anything or let's talk! driver x oc version available on wattpad on august 30th

lewis hamilton x pregnant!reader | based on 2018 season

for more information to the reader: ❥ reader in this series is britta's (seb's pr) niece and nico's ex-wife (they had a toxic relationship, but please, remember all of this is fiction and none of what you read here represents drivers in real life). ❥ it contains friends to lovers and unwanted pregnancy tropes. ❥ some parts might include sensitive content. pay attention to trigger warnings at the beginning of each part. ❥ english is not my first language so apologies for any mistakes that you can read here!

started: AUGUST 25TH 2024 currently status: on going | last updated: august 25th masterlist under the cut !

taglist: [feel free to tell me so i can tag you and you don't miss anything!]

a/n: i love nico, you just know it, but in this series as well as the upcoming history mega series... he's not gonna be a good guy, sorry (once again remember all of this is fiction and none of it represents reality)

Y/N Roeske knew firsthand what it was like to be one of the most well-known figures in the Formula 1 world, but not particularly for anything important.

Ever since her first public appearance in 2013 as Sebastian Vettel's PR, replacing her aunt Britta that hell of a season, the young woman realized that things would not be easy for her. When her casual sexual encounters with Nico Rosberg, hidden from everyone, turned into an abrupt marriage followed by a divorce that came just as quickly, the German realized that she was destined to be remembered for life as the ex-wife of someone who, in the eyes of others, was perfect, even though the reality was far from that.

Y/N tried to think that the rumors were just that, mere rumors, and that the people's inventions shouldn’t affect her at all... but they did until her return to the scene a year later after pleas from her aunt and her dad, a leaked intimate video and a few coffees at Lewis' house, led her to come back.

However, no matter how much Y/N Roeske tried to rebuild her life in any of its aspects, life had other plans for her. Ones that the blonde couldn’t have imagined.

After a night of weakness and vulnerability, and despite the attempts of Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel and his fiancee, Diana Wagner, to keep her from falling into temptation after nearly three years clean, Y/N ends up having a small but significant slip-up with her ex-husband during one of the season’s kickoff parties. She didn’t think much of it until a positive pregnancy test made her realize that she might have landed herself in a problem with no easy solution.

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN MASTERLIST

part 1: after deciding to go out with her best friend, diana, to celebrate her birthday, and her going back with sebastian, her fiancé to their hotel room, y/n finds herself doing the same with nico, her ex-husband

part 2: her period is late and she knows all too well why, but y/n doesn't want to face reality even everyone asks her if she's ok

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 6: Keep Me From Falling✨

Club Owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I have been writing this one on and off for a little over a month, and it was a lot! Be prepared for an emotional rollercoaster and please pay attention to those tags. This one gets dark. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being the best beta and making this chapter shine! 🥰 I would like as much feedback on this chapter, so don’t be afraid to reblog or comment because your comments are what sparks my writing 🩷

Chapter Summary: After fighting your feelings for weeks, you decide to go back to the club. Back to those dark shades of red where brown eyes pull you under and feelings become much more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 14.1k

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Tags: A lot of angst, jealousy, so many feelings, yearning, anxiety, toxic ex, flashbacks of physical abuse and trauma, soft Joel, protective Joel, no use y/n, a lot of tears, fist fight, I don’t want to put any spoilers so I will omit some of the tags, switching POVs

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The flashing red lights outside Club Inferno shine bright against the glow of the full moon. A brisk breeze cuts through the humid air, blowing through your long waves and kissing your bare shoulders. It sinks underneath the dark blue summer dress that clings to your figure. Your body hums with nerves, with need. You want Joel. 

   Joel, Joel, Joel. 

   He’s all you think about, he’s all you want to think about. Even at work, when you should be focusing on organizing bookshelves and paperwork, your mind always goes to him. 

   Sure, maybe at first you didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want to blur the lines. But you liked him, you really liked him. And you’re not sure when that line got crossed, but you were ready. Ready to take it to the next level. Needed to. You needed more. More of him. 

   So, now was your chance to make that happen, to tell him exactly what you wanted from him. A relationship. It was what you always wanted. You were just so scared to let your walls down again, but for him you would. For Joel you’d do just about anything.

   If you didn’t… well, you’ve already lost him once. You’re not sure if you can lose him again.

   When you reach the glossy black doors and step through after getting your ID checked, you see the club is buzzing with crowds of people tonight. The music is loud and blaring, even upstairs is jam-packed with bodies. But you only came here for one thing tonight: Joel Miller.

   You stop at the corner of the bar, brushing your hand against the sleek bar top and run your hand against the cool material. Scanning the crowd, you look for the handsome man that stands out amongst the rest. The man with the dark brown eyes that makes every single nerve ending vibrate inside you every time you set your eyes on him. That smoldering, captivating, charming man that sets your heart on fire. 

   A couple of girls in skimpy dresses get up from their bar stools and leave you room to see the rest of the crowd at the bar. Fresh faces of men and women you haven’t seen here before cross your sight until you get to the very end of the bar. Your heart gets stuck in your throat when you see it. 

   Right there at the very end of the bar top sits Joel, all muscle in a button-up crimson flannel with the top three buttons undone to expose his broad chest, dark hair peeking out of the open shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, accentuating the defined veins that wrap around his forearms, and the black watch clasped on his left wrist just sets it off even more. But what paralyzes you is the fact that he’s sitting at the bar with another woman. Someone who isn’t you.

   Her big, blonde curls fall around her pink blush-filled cheeks, and her tight red dress exposes large breasts that spill from the top of the low cut design. Red lips purse and laugh as she beams at Joel every time she brushes her hand against his fist that’s clenched around an amber glass of whiskey. 

   Two weeks without him and he’s already wrapped around another woman’s finger. Go fucking figure. You told him it was all just for fun, but it never really was that to you, was it?

   Your blood runs cold and you feel as if you just got hit with a metal bat against the back of the head. You tightly dig your manicured nails into the bar top. It feels as if a sharp knife slices deep into your back, slowly carving against your spine as it splits you in half. 

   Another light touch to his hand as she leans over to whisper in his ear sets your nerves on fire. You watch him laugh; that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at it now eats away at your insides. You can’t watch this. You can’t fucking do this tonight. He was supposed to be yours, but you’re too late…

   You feel a hot prick against the back of your eyes as your vision blurs, fiery tears bleeding into your eyeliner as you back up, your hand still clutching the bar top. You don’t watch where you’re going, and an entire glass of some kind of alcohol slides off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering and sloshing liquid as it splashes against your black high heels. 

   The crowd around the bar goes silent as they all turn to face you, but what stuns you into place is when Joel looks up and sees you standing there looking like a lost puppy. Your bottom lip quivers as you blink back tears, staring between him and the blonde girl that can’t keep her fucking hands off him. 

   His eyes grow wide as he looks at you stunned, immediately standing up from his bar stool as he pushes back the woman’s hand that reaches for him once again. His broad shoulders roll back as his full attention is on you, and then he’s moving fast, calling your name over the loud music as his voice gets washed out by the blaring noise. 

   You turn and push through the crowd, clawing your way blindly to a safe space where maybe you can breathe air that isn’t polluted again. You feel nailed to the wooden floor, chains ripping into your ankles as you force your legs to keep going. Joel calls your name, but you don’t stop to turn back around. You’ll break down in tears if you stop now. So you keep going, dragging your heavy feet until you reach the double doors and barrel your way outside. 

   The night air stills around you as the full moon shines bright behind fluffy clouds. The quiet parking lot is filled with parked cars, but everyone is inside. Not a soul stands outside besides you. That is, until Joel comes crashing through the double doors and calls your name again loudly. 

   “Hey, stop!” Joel yells out of breath as you hear his boots scuff across the pavement. “Didn’t you hear me callin’ your name?” 

   You turn around, crossing your arms over your chest and putting on a brave face, not letting him see the tears that scorch behind your sad eyes. “Guess not,” you mumble as you look down at the dusty cement. 

   “Hey, will you jus’ stop?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows as the lines on his forehead scrunch together intently. You shake your head and don’t answer, but he doesn’t like that at all. “Angel, talk to me.”

   “Don’t call me angel,” you mumble as you retreat a step back from his advances. 

   He takes a step forward and reaches out an arm to try to catch you. When he curls his calloused fingers over your wrist, you pull it out of his grip and shake him off. “Don’t,” you warn sharply as you turn your head the other direction. 

   You hear Joel huff out in frustration as he fights to compose himself. “It was that girl, wasn’t it? Is that what you’re so worked up about, huh?” 

   You bite your lower lip to keep from screaming and whirl back to him as you fight with yourself not to lose control. You purse your lips and then spill yourself to him. “Oh, I don’t know, Joel. Maybe you should go back to your little date.”

   “It wasn’t a date,” he expresses as his jaw clenches up, “it was jus’ a drink. She came up to me first, and all I did was offer to buy her a drink. She’s an old client of mine, nothing more.”

   “An old client, huh?” you scoff and feel your cheeks burn hot.

   “Yeah. Tommy and I did a job at her company’s site.”

   “I’m sure you did.” You roll your eyes and scrape your heel against the concrete.

   “Angel, I didn’t ask her here tonight. She jus’ showed up unannounced. What you saw was nothing.”

   “Oh, yeah? Then why was she all over you? Did you buy her a drink so you could sleep with her just like you did with me?!” Your voice comes out louder than you wanted it to, but you’re so worked up that you can’t control your flaring nostrils and watery eyes. You can practically taste the stench of regret in your throat. You should’ve never come here, should’ve never messed with a man like him. Tall, dominant, charming, and so goddamn handsome. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?

   “Whoa, easy there, darlin’. I wasn’t gonna sleep with her,” he says carefully as his voice stays even. Almost gentle enough to calm you down a bit, but even that makes you more uneasy. 

   “No? It sure looked like you were enjoying yourself, and she seemed to be all over you,” you spit out venomously, kicking the end of your heel into the hard cement. 

   “Why are you actin’ like this?” he asks, exasperated, his eyebrows knitting together into a hard line. 

   “Acting like what?” You seethe as you entwine your fingers tightly together, desperately trying to anchor yourself.

   “Actin’ jealous! All I did was buy her a drink. If I would’ve known you were comin’ I wouldn’t have even…”

   “Wouldn’t have what? Offered to eat her out on your fucking pool table!” you screech.

   “Jus’ stop!” he growls, making your eyes go wide and your heart hammer impossibly fast in your chest. “Is there somethin’ you want to say?” he asks as his jaw ticks and arches an eyebrow, his dark eyes meeting your gaze. 

   Your voice is suddenly as small as a mouse as you reply, “Say something? No, I…”

   “You’re the one who said you didn’t want more. Remember? I asked you, was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. All you had to do was say the words, angel. That’s all you had to do.” 

   He stands there staring at you, eyes locked with yours as you dig your long nails deep into the fabric of your dress, nervous sweat pooling at the edges of your soft curls as you bite your tongue in agony. 

   All you had to do was say the words. Why couldn’t you say those fucking words back in that little diner? What was so goddamn hard about that? You wanted him. You fucking wanted him. So badly that it actually felt like your heart was shattering in your chest. 

   “But you… after that night at the diner, you gave me the cold shoulder,” you finally reply. “You practically iced me out, didn’t ask me to come back to the club, couldn’t text me back, didn’t even…”

   “I was givin’ you space,” Joel interrupts. “I didn’t think… fuck. I didn’t think you wanted to come back!” He rakes a hand slowly through his silver threaded scruff and sighs, cursing under his breath as he stares at you with pure turmoil in his hazy eyes.

   “But I did want to come back! Isn’t that what I showed up for tonight? To see you?” you ask, appalled, eyes red with tears pooling across your glassy irises. 

   “I don’t know, angel, why don’t you tell me!” His voice sounds so angry, so gravelly, so very hurt. And you see it in the flared nostrils and wide eyes. He’s just asking questions which you should’ve answered a long time ago.

   “I didn’t… I didn’t want space. I never did…” Your eyes gloss over, and your bottom lip quivers as you fight to keep yourself in one piece. You want to say something, anything to make this stop, but your words run dry as he stares at you carefully. 

   He looks at you fiercely another moment as he licks his bottom lip in frustration. “Tell me somethin’, will ya? What is it that you want from me?”

   The question comes out almost like a snake just bit your ankle. Alarming, unexpected. “I… uh…” You can’t even formulate a coherent sentence as the words rush through your head. I was willing to give you more. I wanted to give you more. But they remain stuck in your throat, unable to escape.

   He takes two steps forward, adjusting the rolled up sleeves of his red flannel. “What. Do. You. Want?”

   The question taunts you, words building as you try to unjumble them. You can’t think straight, not when his mahogany cologne is burning your nostrils, not when his dark chocolate eyes are honing into yours, not when he’s so close that you want to drop all pretense and jump into his strong arms. But you can’t. It’s not that simple. 

   This is all getting too complicated, and you don’t know how much further you can go without putting yourself into a vulnerable position. You already are in a vulnerable position, so why can’t you just say exactly how you feel?

   After your silence, Joel rakes a hand through his dark, greying scruff and sighs again. “Goddamn it, angel. Jus’ tell me what you want.”

   “I… I….” You fidget and keep your eyes locked on his in a panic.

   For fuck’s sake just tell him what you want! 

   Joel pinches the bridge of his nose as he huffs in defeat. When he looks back up at you, he takes a long, slow breath and nods his head. “I can see this isn’t easy for you. But darlin’, if you don’t tell me what you want then I can’t give you that. Now, do you want me to go walk back into my club and go back to that girl, or…?”

   “No!” you plead as you reach your arm out and grab his wrist, holding it like it’s the only thing that’ll save you from falling to your death. Joel looks down at your hand gripping his tanned skin and looks back up with a mix of grief and hope in his eyes.

   “No?” he asks with eyebrows raised in question. “So, tell me. What is it that you want? Is it me you want? Do you want more, need more? Because I can give that to you, angel. I can give you so much more… if you’ll jus’ let me.”

   “You… you left me alone on the curb after I tried asking you about the guitar lesson…” you stammer out.

   He sighs and runs a hand swiftly through his hair, blowing out a long breath as he finds the words he wants to say. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I jus’... I was confused and angry and hurt because I thought… I didn’t think you wanted to be with me, and I really fuckin’ liked you.” He stops to correct himself. “Well, like you. And I apologize for jus’ icin’ you out. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved that. I was jus’ sorta hopin’ we could be more, ya know…”

   His words leave you standing with your jaw dropped and eyes wide. “I thought… I thought I could be more than jus’ someone you hooked up with,'' Joel continues. “I wanted… I wanted to give you the world...”

   Jesus. He’s just as wrecked as you are. Holy shit.

   Your hand drops from his wrist as you fidget with the hem of your dress, nerves rushing through you like a raging river. He reaches his long arm out and glides calloused fingers gently down your jawline, pushing a curl behind your ear. And it feels so good. So good that you just want to melt inside his warm touch.

   Say it. Say it right fucking now before you ruin everything all over again.

   “I want… I want… y—”

   Your sentence is interrupted by the loud slamming of the front door of the club and then the pounding of feet on the pavement as you hear keys jangling from jeans and mumbling of gibberish you can’t understand. You jump out of Joel’s reach from the fright and compose yourself to act normal in front of a stranger coming out of the club.

   When you look up to see who so rudely interrupted your confession, your eyes go wide and the breath gets knocked from your chest as you take in exactly who stalks toward you. 

   Jason. Your ex. Holy shit…

   He says your name in surprise, calling out to you as you freeze up in place. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking real. Your stomach drops at the sight of his large figure, and your mouth drops open in shock.

   “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks as his murky green eyes stare coldly back at you. “Hi there, babydoll. Remember me?”

   You blink once, twice, but he doesn’t disappear. This isn’t a dream. He fucking found you. 

   “J… Jason?” Your eyes go as wide as an owl’s, your palms sweating as you take in his figure. Tall, tattoos covering his entire right arm, muddy green eyes that could kill, blonde shaggy hair that falls to his neckline, strong muscles that could snap a man in half, a gold chain glinting around his neck, and worn hands that could tear into your flesh. 

   “Miss me?” he smirks as you see nothing but coldness in his swampy eyes. 

   “I thought you were in jail…” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear as he moves toward you slowly, his strides wide and terrifying as he scuffs clean sneakers against the cool pavement. 

   “They let me out on good behavior,” he laughs as he shakes his head, pieces of blonde falling into his eyes as he pushes them away. “Didn’t know I’d run into you here. But I’m sooooo glad I did,” he chuckles, stepping closer. 

   Joel stands and watches the two of you, a conflicting look filling his face as his eyebrows furrow together in concentration. He looks so confused, which he should be. You didn’t tell him about Jason, never even planned to. You thought all memories of Jason were gone as you worked so hard to forget, but now they’re back with a vengeance, and you start to remember everything. 

   “You… you’re not supposed to be here,” you gulp nervously as you take a hesitant step back, but he keeps stalking towards you. Getting closer and closer until he’s only a couple steps in front of you. 

   “Baby, I can be anywhere I want to be,” he croons sickeningly. “And looks like I picked a good night to come out to the club.” You can smell the alcohol falling off his chapped lips, can see how drunk he is already with the way he sways and slurs. This isn’t good, none of this is good. 

   You take one more step back, but he grabs your wrist hard and holds out your left arm as he drags a predatory finger over the faded scar that sits on the inside of your wrist. “I see this hasn’t gone away. A keepsake to remember me by, huh?” he teases as he yanks you closer to him. 

   “Let go,” you demand with a desperate plea in your voice as you try to shove away from him, but he only jabs his nail beds into your wrist as you wince in pain. “I said let go,” you whine as hate fills his cloudy eyes.

   “No, I don’t think so,” he chuckles, holding you in place. 

   “Get the fuck off her,” Joel growls as he pushes Jason away with barely any effort. Jason almost falls off the edge of the curb. 

   Joel looks at you with concern laced in his gentle brown eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks as he looks at the way you hold the inside of your wrist. The faded scar comes into his view and Joel stares at it, his jaw clenching as realization caves in. “Did he… did he do that to you?” 

   You don’t answer, but the way your eyes start to water tells him everything he needs to know. 

   His eyes turn from concerned to full-on burning, rage taking over as he flexes his fingers into a tight fist and ticks his jaw up. He’s not just mad, no. He’s furious. Something inside you clenches up as you see how wrecked he looks; he looks like he wants to eat Jason alive. 

  “Hey, fucker! Step away from her. She’s mine,” Jason warns as he shoves Joel hard in the shoulder as Joel stumbles back a few steps. 

   Joel snarls at Jason, and you swear you’ve never seen him look this feral before. They’re going to fight. Oh, god. No. This isn’t what you wanted. They can’t just…    

   “She ain’t your girl, asshole.” Joel snaps. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

   Jason doesn’t listen; he just hounds Joel and pushes him hard against the brick wall as he runs over and grabs the collar of Joel’s crimson flannel. “The fuck she is!” Jason yells aggressively. “Who the fuck are you to tell me she’s not, hmm? Have you been messing around with her? Yeah you have, I can practically smell you on her.” Jason slams Joel’s head against the hard bricks. 

   No, no, no, not Joel!

   “Jason, stop!” you scream as you run over and try to intercept. 

   “You have no right bein’ here on my property, putting your hands on me or her. So, I’m gonna tell you one more time. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops,” Joel snarls as he grabs the front of Jason’s shirt and pushes him hard out of his grasp. 

   Jason’s jaw clenches, and his eyes grow impatient. “NO.” The next thing you know, Jason is throwing his fist in the air, and it comes down like lightning against Joel’s jaw. Your eyes grow wide as you hear just how hard the punch hits him, and you’re gasping in horror as you watch, stunned in silence. 

   This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. 

   Joel takes a few seconds to recover, then he’s moving fast as he shoves Jason against the rough bricks and throws a punch to his nose. You hear the snapping sound of broken bones, but Jason just keeps going. 

   Jason grabs a hold of Joel’s collar and throws him hard while another punch lands against his face. You can’t stand it, can’t watch them beat each other to death. You don’t want any part of this. You just want all the loud, violent sounds to stop. You have to do something.

   Before Jason throws another punch in Joel’s direction, you step between them and try to push Jason away. “Jason, I said stop!” 

   Before you know what happens next, Jason slaps you so hard across the cheek that it nearly makes you see stars. He pushes you roughly and watches you lose your balance on the concrete. Cupping your cheek, you fall to the ground with a thud as it all comes back to you in a flash. You hear Joel scream your name in the distance and see him throwing Jason to the ground out of the corner of your eye, but you’re barely even there anymore. 

   Your vision goes spotty, and all you can hear is the white noise as your ears start to ring insufferably loud. Your palms burn as you dig your fingers into the cold concrete, feeling smaller and more invisible than you’ve ever felt in your life as your heart rate kicks up as the adrenaline rushes out. Your scar aches, your eyes shutting as you remember everything that happened all those years ago. You remember, you remember it all. 

   You remember how drunk Jason got that dark, rainy evening. You remember him cussing you out as you fixed dinner for him, remember him demanding you to bring him another bottle of beer, remember him chewing you out because you didn’t twist the lid open for him, remember him throwing the glass dinner plate across the room as sharp glass littered the soft carpet. 

   And that’s when he snapped. 

   He shattered the glass bottle against the edge of the coffee table as broken glass and alcohol spilled everywhere on the cream carpet. You remember him pushing you down into the shards, the sharp edges cutting into your skin; remember him hovering over you as he dug a piece deep into your wrist and called you a filthy whore, dragging the glass deeper into your skin. Remember all the blood that was spilling out, staining the carpet crimson as he made you look him dead in the eyes and threatened to do worse to you. You remember the police barging into the small apartment as they body-slammed him to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back. You remember the ambulance taking you away. You remember how close you were to dying, how you almost didn’t make it out alive, how you woke up shaking and scared in the hospital bed, afraid he’d come back to finish you off. You remember it all, you remember everything. 

   Your cheek burns hot as you cup it with your palm, feeling the scrapes on your hand bleed into the pain as wet tears spill down your face. It’s like it’s happening all over again. The pain, the screaming, the drunk mess of a man, the accusations, the absolute sheer terror you feel seeping through your thin bones. You feel so fragile, so torn, and you feel as if you're slipping through the concrete cracks, dying a little inside. 

   The faint noise of thrown punches and bodies slamming to the ground reaches your ears again, but you don’t have the strength to look up. You can only sit still, fade away with the noise, try to piece yourself back together when you know you can’t. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

   All of a sudden, the front doors of the club slam open, and you hear that familiar warm drawl. “That’s enough, Joel. You got him good,” Tommy says firmly.

   You hear the faint grunts of Joel sending punches right and left to Jason who lies on the ground just taking the hits, too drunk now to even comprehend what’s happening. You wince at the noises, the punches reverberating through your body just like you were lying on that floor passed out cold, only the echoes of policemen and the ER workers picking your lifeless body up off the glass covered floor. 

   “Hey, I said enough,” Tommy repeats. You hear the throws of punches die out into silence, only hearing quiet shuffling that echoes in your ringing ears. 

   Suddenly, you feel someone’s hands on your shoulders, shaking you to get up. You shy away, screaming no, but then the hands are back on you. They’re warm, welcoming, comforting. A ray of sunshine you need to pick you up off the ground because you don’t have the strength to do it yourself. 

   “Hey, look at me,” he says adamantly, but you pull out of his enticing grip that begs for you to hold on to him. 

   “No,” you say sternly as you fall back on your palms and wince in pain. You’re so cold, so weak, so broken. How did you ever pick yourself up off the ground that first time?

   Joel reaches for you again, and this time it’s more careful, delicate. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s me, it’s Joel. ‘S okay now. ‘S okay.” This time you let him help you off the cold ground, turning you around to face him as you sit on your bruised knees, staring down at the hollow ground. 

   “Hey, can you look up for me?” he asks quietly as you shake your head no and keep your eyes glued to the ground. You can’t do it, you’ll surely break if you see even the tiniest scratch on his face. 

   “Baby, look in my eyes. Please, jus’ look at me. C’mon, sweetheart,” he coos as he cups your chin and lifts your head. 

   Your breathing is erratic, your pulse quickening as you try to focus on him and him alone. You lock eyes with him, seeing those concerned flecks of dark brown swirl in your vision as he breathes out and sighs. “There ya go, nice and slow. Jus’ breathe for me.”

   Your eyes go wide as you see the deep red and purple bruises covering his strong left cheekbone, a tinge of crimson blood covering his knuckles he used it to avenge your honor. He got hurt. He’s hurt because of you. 

   “Joel, you… you’re hurt,” you stutter out as you place a hand gently over his bruises as he winces back in pain. 

   “I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. You’re the one I’m worried ‘bout. Are you… okay?” he asks cautiously as he traces his calloused thumb over your jawline. You pick apart the question, going over the events that had just happened in the span of ten minutes. You weren’t okay, you were far from okay. 

   “I… I’m…” Your mumbling stops as you hear Jason yelling and stirring up trouble as he rambles on about how he’ll be back. You catch him saying “slut” and calling you and Joel vulgar names as security calls the cops. 

   “Sweetheart, say somethin’,” Joel pleads as he drops his large hand over yours and squeezes. 

   The wave of shock hits you like lightning as your scar burns, and the memories flood your mind in the present. This time you see Joel lying there in the puddle of blood, wrist cut up with Jason standing over him with a bottle of alcohol and a smug smirk tugging at his cheeks as his dark eyes stare down at your and Joel’s dying bodies. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much. 

   You feel hot tears swarm your vision as you throw your arms around Joel and sink your face into his warm flannel. The one that smells like him, his musk, his warm scent. The tears don’t stop pouring, your sobs echoing in the distance as you feel your body completely melt against Joel. You hear him call your name, feel him try to talk to you as he tries to get your attention, but you’re too far gone, too broken to feel anything. 

   “Tommy!” Joel screams as you hear Tommy’s footsteps scuff quickly over the cement. “Make sure that fucker never steps foot in our club again, and make sure the cops lock him up. Fucker assaulted me and her tonight. I’m gonna take her home. Jus’ make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble.” Joel snarls as you feel his arms snake around you.

   “Don’t worry, Joel. I’ve got it. Motherfucker is gonna pay for what he did,” Tommy spits as he storms off to the front doors. 

   Joel tries to stir you from his grasp, but you just hold onto him as tight as a koala. “Sweetheart, hey. We need to get up. Do you think you can get up?” Joel asks carefully as he tries to pry you up. You don’t budge, don’t even make a sound as tears blur your vision. 

   “Alright, c’mon,” he sighs as he stoops down and picks you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he carries you to his truck while your eyes soak the front of his flannel. “I’ve got you, babygirl. It’s gonna be okay,” he coos as he brushes his lips over the top of your head and sets you down in the passenger seat.

   He fastens the seatbelt over your lap until it clicks and lingers his fingers against your cheek. You pull away from him, leaning your head to the opposite side as tears begin to soak the fabric of your soft dress. You hear him sigh and listen to him back up, gently closing the passenger door while he shuffles to the driver’s side. 

   He gets himself situated in the seat, and you can feel that hovering gaze over you as he runs his fingers down his clipped scruff. You sink into the edge of the door, curling yourself into a tight ball as you feel his stare smother your insides. 

   You don’t want him to see you like this, all broken and torn to shreds. He wasn’t supposed to know this side of you. The part you keep closed up in a tight glass bottle that drifts off to sea, where no one will see the mess you keep hidden away. 

   This wasn’t supposed to fucking happen, but it did. It did. 

   You close your eyes tight and lean against the glass window, throwing up your shields as you drown out the sounds of the low vibrations of the truck, keeping Joel's concerned, prying eyes from your glassy stare, even blocking out his gravelly voice as he whispers soft words under his breath. 

   This is too much, it’s all too much. You just want to disappear, let shadows envelop you in darkness, fade away so you don’t have to keep living those horrible nightmares night after night.  

   This was all Jason’s fault, all yours for falling for a man who never loved you. The only thing he did was shatter your world completely and keep you from forming intimate relationships. And now you were permanently scarred, just like the mark against your wrist. 

   You’re a fucking piece of work, and nobody deserves that burden now.

   Joel locks his fingers around the leather steering wheel, gripping so tight that his knuckles are painted white as concerned eyes flick to your fragile form in the passenger seat. His thoughts fly wild, his breath quick, his teeth bared as he thinks of what that fucker did to you.

   He’ll drive down to the county jail this weekend, make sure Jason’s locked up tight, make sure he will never place another finger on your beautiful face. He fucking slapped you, knocked you down, and shed violent threats over your crouched body. He’s a dead man.

   Joel ticks his jaw, snaps his teeth together as he thinks of the asshole that hurt you. He swears to god if Jason ever lays another hand on you, he will personally kill him himself. He’d snap his neck, would make sure the fucker was ten feet in the ground, would fucking destroy the man that assaulted you. He’d burn everything, if only that meant he could keep you safe. If only that meant you were his…

   He rakes a hand heavily through his scruff, takes another long glance at you as you shake and whimper against the glass window, folding yourself into the smallest shape you can possibly get yourself in. And it fucking hurts him to see you like this, all fragile and broken and bleeding. He wants to take all the pain away, but he doesn’t know how, doesn’t exactly know what you need, but he’ll be gentle, delicate, whatever you need. He would be that for you. He’d be anything you needed him to be. 

   He gently drops a hand from the steering wheel, reaching out until he stops himself when he sees the jagged scar on your left wrist. How had he never seen it before, how had he not noticed? How was this the first time he’s looked at it?

   God, he’s such a fool, a fucking asshole. The way he iced you out, the way he didn’t reply to your texts, the way he fucking flirted with a woman tonight when he damn well knew all he wanted was you. How could he be so reckless with your feelings? He fucking knew better, and look where that ended.

   He should’ve figured out the signs sooner. The way you always widened your eyes and turned your head before he could sink his lips down on yours, the way you were so hesitant and careful about everything you did with him. Why didn’t he just stop after that stupid question in the diner, when he asked you what exactly the two of you were doing? He should’ve fucking known the way you tried to change the subject, the way you lost all form of words, your breathy stutters. He should’ve fucking saw your wrist and knew someone had hurt you. But he didn’t, and now he was the biggest asshole for falling silent and leaving you thinking he didn’t want you. And he fucking hates himself for that. Because he wanted you the entire goddamn time.

   God. He’s wanted you from the first moment he saw you in his club, sitting there all doe-eyed and looking up at him as your smile took his breath away.

   He’s such a goddamn fool, and he just wishes he could take it all back and start over. He’d be so careful with you, and now you’re sitting there scattered in broken pieces of glass, but he’ll try to put you back together the best he can. He has to try, he just has to because you’re all he really wants anymore. 

   You’re a living, breathing angel, and he’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to win you back.

   The truck stops in a dark driveway, one that’s lit with dim lights glowing against a tan garage. You don’t look up, not even when the hum of the engine cuts off and Joel frantically slams his door closed and practically sprints to the passenger side.

   When he opens it he hesitates a second, assessing your tear-soaked face as you turn away from him. You don’t want him to see you like this, but it’s too late. So why are you shying away from him?

   He carefully unbuckles you and gently lifts you up, cradling you against his firm chest as you sink against it, inhaling his fresh soap smell, the pine scent dripping off his silvery scruff. You smell it then: the scent of safety, of your knight in shining armor.

   Joel carries you into the house, taking you up the creaking stairs and what you assume to be up to his bedroom. You don’t lift your eyes, only squeezing them shut so you can forget the aftermath of showing up to the club. You try to block out the blonde woman, Jason, the fight with Joel, the absolute monstrosity of the events that led you here to Joel’s house. You try to forget, but you can’t. You just can’t.

   You hear a door swing open as you make it to the top of the stairs, his fast beating chest breathing rapidly as you cling to his warm flannel. You could stay curled up against his chest for hours, as long as you don’t have to open your eyes, as long as you can just breathe him and forget the rest of the world.

   Those thoughts are short-lived when you feel the back of your thighs brushing against a soft comforter, and then he’s unlatching you from his flannel. You unwind your fingers and fall against the bed, allowing him to take a step back as the numbness seeps back inside you. 

   You tug at your dress, the room feeling both too overwhelmingly sweltering and also as cold as ice chilling down every single nerve in your body. You just need to get out of this tight thing; the fabric is suffocating and squeezing you like Jason’s rough hands are still wrapped around your throbbing wrists.

   You jump when you hear Joel sliding a drawer shut, your fingers still tugging against your itchy fabric. You want it off, need to get it off, but you can’t seem to make your hands or body work.

   As if Joel senses you struggling against yourself, you see him carefully walking over to you in your periphery, his polished boots scuffing against the dark grey carpet as you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

   Your fingers fidget against the tainted material, and you just want it off now. He slowly, ever so delicately stills your hand, his palm flattening over the top of yours as he whispers quietly. “Here, let me help you out there, sweetheart. ‘S alright, easy now.”

   He slowly tugs your zipper down, ever so slowly pulling the summer dress off your body, and then unclasping the buckle of your heels as he frees them from your aching feet. 

   He gently helps you lift your arms as a long dark blue t-shirt envelops your body, the soft material hitting just below your knees as it clouds you in whiffs of summer breeze and Joel all together. It makes you feel safe, like he’s surrounding you in just him. And it feels so damn good.

   He grunts as he lifts himself off the floor, and then he treads into his bathroom, throwing the bright light on as water starts to pour from his sink.

   Drip, drip, drip. The sounds the water makes as it crashes into the sink makes your heart slow, makes you think about the entire night, makes you cringe as Jason’s face comes into view. You see red eyes, hear slurring curses, feel the glass cutting straight through your fragile skin.

   You grab hold of your wrist, embedding your nails into the skin as you wince at the memory. No more, not tonight. You can’t bear to think of it, so you block it out as the numb feeling tingles down your spine and surrounds every single bone in your body. You shut your eyes tight and count to ten in your head, hoping the voices will go away, but they never do. They’re just… ghosts.

   A few seconds later you hear Joel pad back into the room, his footsteps so slow as he takes step after step until the floor stops creaking. You open your eyes and find him kneeling in front of you, his eyes so lathered with concern that it makes his chocolate irises lighten just a little, and it makes your heart skip in your chest.

   He looks at you like you’re so broken, fragile, but you are. He hesitates as his right hand flexes up with a tan soaked washcloth in his grip, like he’s afraid to touch you, like you’re made of glass.

   “Is this okay? Can I…” His gravelly voice fades off, and his brows knit together as he studies your somber features slowly. 

   Permission? He’s asking for permission to touch you? Of course he is. After tonight he figures you don’t want to be touched, and he’s right. You don’t. But Joel, you’ll allow him the honor. 

   He slowly reaches his arm up, brushing a strand of hair delicately behind your ear, and then he brings the cool washcloth up and runs it over your stinging cheek. You wince a little at the pain, but you quickly lean into the cold material and let it soak your heated skin.

   He’s so careful with you, brown eyes flicking every few seconds to assess your face, making sure you’re okay, making sure you won’t just slip like sand into the cracks of the floor. That’s what you would be doing, if it wasn’t for Joel taking care of you. 

   You didn’t ask him to do this, didn’t imagine this being your weekend night with eyeliner running down your face or your eyes swollen and red. You probably look like a giant mess, but isn’t that what you are? 

   You flick your gaze up to his and spot the colorful bruise that flashes deep purple and crimson on the side of his left cheek, the exact same place as yours, and it makes your heart drop in your chest.

   Guilt spirals through your head, your chest, and then drops to your stomach. This is all your fault. Joel is hurt because of you. He wouldn’t have swollen knuckles and discolored bruises on his fingers and cheek if it wasn’t for you. 

   Your vision starts to blur, your fingers twisting into the soft sheets, and your body starts humming with vibrations as you begin to shake. 

   Your fault, your fault, your fault.

   Joel’s eyes widen, and his free hand lands on your thigh as he looks at you as if you’ll shatter into a million pieces. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he asks as his mouth twitches into a hard line.

   You shake your head and whimper out, “No, you didn’t. I’m just…” You freeze up and almost lose your words. “You got hurt. You’re hurt because of me. This is all my fault,” you whine as another tear escapes your eye.

   “No, sweetheart. Not at all,” he murmurs as he reaches up and brushes a tear away from your cheek before it can fall to the floor. 

   He cups your face with both hands, his calloused fingers feeling like warmth, and then he gazes at you with so much intent and sorrow in his eyes that they start to glisten. “Don’t you dare for one second think any of this is your fault. None of it is, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

   Your eyes fill with tears as they start to spill over, your body trembling as you finally release it all out of your system. “Then why does it feel like it is?” you cry out, the room temperature dropping fifteen degrees as you shake with guilt and hurt.

   “Oh, sweetheart. No. C’mere.” He throws off his boots and scoops you up, landing in the soft sheets as he cradles you to his chest while he pulls the dark blue comforter over your shaking body. “‘S’okay, babygirl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he coos, folding his broad arms over your back as he takes one hand and gently runs it down the back of your scalp, soothing you of everything you’ve held pent up inside that you never got the courage to let slip out. 

   “Joel, the reason I didn’t tell you…”

   “Shhh. Not now, sweetheart. You can tell me in the mornin’. Right now I jus’ want you to relax, breathe, sleep. Jus’ focus on deep breaths. I’ve got you, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes as his thick fingers stroke tenderly through your hair, easing you of the tension that you hold in your shoulders.

   “But I… he… you…” You just can’t make sense of your jumbled words.

   “Easy now. Easy,” he whispers, pulling you closer into him so you can nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck where it’s warm and safe and smells like the middle of an autumn’s day.

   You breathe him in, grasping on to his woodsy scent, sinking as deep as you can go against his broad chest, fingers curling possessively against his white undershirt, steadying your breaths to the slow rhythm of his heart, reaching for him and only him as your panicked mind starts to ease into calm waters, Joel the anchor that keeps you from drowning.

   You keep latched tight to him as you start to let your body get dragged into darkness where no one can hurt you, where only Joel keeps you floating into a deep, serene place where your body stills, your galloping heart starting to slow to quiet footsteps as you hear the deep sighs slip from his lips, letting it lull you to sleep as he holds you tighter.

   The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is the sound of his deep, gravelly Southern drawl where you feel most relaxed at. “You’re safe with me, angel. Always.” And then you slip into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

   The fan blows overhead, his head resting up against the headboard as he stares at your sleeping form that clings to his white t-shirt. His hand repeatedly strokes your soft locks, as if the motion will make the panic ease from your mind, as if he can make you feel safe, where no one else can touch your delicate form again.

   He brushes his lips against your forehead, caressing them over every perfect line that makes up your gorgeous face, needing to give you everything he can. He thinks you’re so perfect, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and now all he wants to do is take care of you, the way you should’ve been taking care of long ago.

   He slips a hand under the material of his t-shirt that splays over your body, carefully dragging his fingernails over your lower back in slow, meticulous circles as he soothes you from the panic. 

   “Nobody’s ever gonna make you feel unwanted again, baby. He’s never gonna hurt you again, will never lay his eyes on you because I’ll keep you safe. You’re so perfect, so beautiful, jus’ like the rarest flower in the world. That’s what you are. Rare, my love. You’re so rare,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, dragging his lips over your soft skin as he closes his eyes and breaths in the lilac perfume that envelops your very being.

   You stir beneath him, nuzzling closer as you groan and curl your fingers against his neck, getting as close as you possibly can. He almost thinks you’re awake, but your deep breaths and fluttering eyelashes say you’re in a deep sleep, somewhere far away.

   He hugs you closer and rests his chin on your head, fingers scraping softly against your soft skin, exactly how you like it. He’s always wanted to keep you safe, but now it’s his mission, like his life depends on it. He’ll spend his entire life convincing you if he has to. You’re his now, and he’s never going to let you go.

   He lets his eyelids shut as the fan hums him to sleep, keeping his arms wrapped safely around you, his lips pressing once more to your forehead as sleep drags him under. And for once in his life, he sleeps the rest of the night because you are safe in his arms.

   You wake to the chirping of singing birds as the sun shines brightly through the sheer curtains, your eyes slowly peeling open as you feel deep, slow breaths underneath you. You quietly stir, groaning as you tug his t-shirt against your fingers, suddenly very aware you stayed the night at Joel’s in his bed, in his arms.

   You feel Joel readjust beneath you, lifting your chin as you’re met with the most beautiful sleepy brown eyes you’ve ever seen. And the drawl of his sleep-ridden gravelly voice doesn’t make it any better. “Mornin’, sunshine. You sleep okay?” He curls a lock of hair behind your ear and lingers his calloused palm on your skin, making you warmer than you were before.

   “Mmm, I did,” you smile sleepily as he chuckles, making his brown eyes crinkle as the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his eyes. God, he’s always so handsome, especially in the morning, fresh from a long night’s rest with tousled bedhead curls that you want to run your fingers through. 

   “Good, that’s good,” he murmurs, a crooked smile curling over his lips as you seem to get lost in his beautiful face.

   You almost nestle back into the crook of his neck, but when you look over you realize it’s a quarter past 10:00. Your eyes go wide and you jump up, realizing you’re probably messing up his entire day. “Shit, Joel. I didn’t know it was so late. I’m sorry, you should’ve woke me up earlier.”

   You’re nearly frantic, but he places a palm softly on your face and turns you to look straight into his sleepy eyes. “‘S alright, angel. Jus’ calm down. I took the day off. Tommy’s got me covered, don’t you worry.” 

   “Oh.” You look at him with wide eyes while his thick fingers trail down your jawline like velvet. 

   “Wasn’t gonna jus’ leave you alone after last night. Needed to make sure you were alright. Figured I needed to take care of you.”

   Oh. Take care of you? No one has ever… done that. Taken care of you before. And yet again, he leaves you completely speechless. “To… take care of me?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you stare up into gorgeous flecks of chocolate eyes.

   “That’s right, sweetheart,” he smiles, a hand slowly smoothing down your messy locks as he comforts you.

   All you can muster up is a pathetic thank you as you nestle back into the scruff of his neck, hitching your leg around his hip as you hold tight to his broad chest. His fingers trail soothingly up and down your back, his nail beds scratching softly along your exposed skin as he soothes your growing panic. 

   After a few minutes of cuddling, he shifts his weight and drags his lips across the shell of your ear. “You wanna take a bath?” You nod your head and allow him to unravel you from his comforting hold. “Alright then, c’mon.”

   He carries you into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he goes. He carefully sits you down on top of the ceramic countertop, dropping his thick fingers from your sides so he can start the water in the tub.

   The faucet squeaks and turns, shooting out warm water. You lean against the mirror and close your eyes for just a second, letting the hum of the water calm your stirring tides, letting the sounds of Joel brushing past you soothe you as he sets out some clean towels from the polished cabinet. 

   You start to drift off again, trying to forget the horrors of last night. You start to slip into darkness, but Joel pulls you right back out as you start to fade to black. “You ready?” he asks, standing right in front of you with his thighs meeting your knees, one hand softly grazing along the jawline of your face.

   “Yeah,” you mutter out pathetically, and then he lifts you off the counter and sets you on flat ground.

   “C’mere, pretty girl. Let’s get you out of this.” He cautiously lifts the hem of his shirt and carefully drags it over your head. You place a hand steadily on his veiny forearm, slipping out of your panties until you’re completely bare and shivering like you’ve just walked out into a snowy blizzard. 

   He quickly throws his t-shirt off, shedding himself of his jeans and boxers until he has nothing left covering himself. The bubbles fizz at the top of the tub as he cuts off the water, slipping his fingers through yours so he can help you in the tub. 

   “In you go, angel. There ya go,” he murmurs, letting the warmth lap against your skin as he settles behind you, pressing your back into his broad chest while his thick arms envelop you in comfort.  

   You close your eyes, press your fingertips into his hot skin, and soak in the smell of his rich mahogany scent that always seems to calm you down. You shut out the violent events of last night, only thinking about how Joel swept you up in his arms and took care of you, making sure you were safe and heard, promising you that you were safe. And you were safe, you’re always safe in his strong arms, arms that claim you as his now, hopefully. 

   “Easy now, you’re alright,” he hums in the shell of your ear, caressing his lips against your jawline, slowly taking the soft washcloth over your arms as he bathes you in lavender soap. You lean into his broad body, groaning each time he glides the washcloth over your delicate skin, drowning in the attention and care he’s giving you.

   He didn’t run, he stayed. 

   He picks you up gently and cradles you over his lap, your legs splayed over his thighs while your face nuzzles cozily into the crook of his neck, his calloused fingertips gently skating down the edge of your jawline. You relax every muscle in your body because you feel safe; Joel makes you feel safe.

   He trails his hand down your forearm and pauses at the dip in your wrist, where the scar is visible. His fingertips feel like fire as they hover over the marked area that still feels fresh from years ago.

   “You wanna talk ‘bout it?” he asks shakily, like you’ll break if he’s too loud or if he presses too hard on the scarred skin. You jump when he touches your wrist, and he quickly releases from that spot like he just burnt you more.

   “I…” There you go choking again. When will you ever learn?

    “You don’t have to talk ‘bout anything you’re not comfortable with, sweetheart. Jus’… I wanna know what happened to you because I want to understand you, want to make sure I don’t set off any triggers. I jus’ wanna know how to make you feel safe, babygirl.”

   Babygirl. There’s that word again. The one that makes you think you’re finally his.

   You flick your gaze up to him, staring into concerned brown eyes that draw you in like a moth to a flame. He always did know how to calm you down with just those soft, syrupy eyes. You look down and trace your index finger along the damp, wiry hairs along his chest, and then you take a deep breath.

   Here goes nothing.

   “No, I… I want to tell you everything. So let me try.” You take a shaky breath and breathe out slowly, numbing your body enough to where the adrenaline isn’t filling your lungs, and then you lay it all out like you should’ve long ago. “I went through a lot in my past, Joel. With Jason. He was… he wasn’t always terrible. At least not in the beginning. He picked up drinking after he was in the service. He wasn’t always home, but when he took an early retirement from the military and came back he was a horrible alcoholic. I mean, drowning a whole six pack or more a day. And it just got worse and worse. And he… he…”

   You have to take a breath and close your eyes for just a second, focusing on not falling apart as you feel hot tears well in your eyes at thinking back to the past you so desperately want to forget.

   Joel puts a comforting hand on your lower back, giving you that nudge you need to continue your story. “He got really mean, especially when he was drunk. And I wanted to get out so bad, but he’d just suck me right back in. Promising he’d change, that he’d do better, but he never did. He never even tried. And then I tried to leave one night because he had me so terrified that I packed a bag and ran, but he got me before I was able to make it out the door. And he… he threatened me. Had me pressed up to the door with his hand wrapped around my throat. And he… he told me if I ever left he’d find me. So I felt trapped, and I couldn’t even talk about it to anyone because I was so fucking scared that he’d come after them, too.”

   Joel’s eyes are wide, and his nostrils are flared, his hand drawing slow circles across your back in a soothing motion. You can see he’s fighting to keep his mouth shut, and he nods for you to continue.

   “And then one night, Jason got really drunk. It was a rainy night, and I was cooking him dinner. There was something he didn’t like or something about how I was out too late the night before. I can’t exactly remember, but he was so fucking angry. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he was screaming for me to get him another beer. And I just remember thinking he was going to do something terrible to me. He was… abusive and manipulative… and he was so damn good at talking me down. I still… sometimes I still have nightmares.”

   Joel’s fingers curl against your skin, and he presses you tighter against his chest, like he’s trying to soften the blow for you. He’s so good. 

   “But when I handed him the beer, he slapped my face hard and he broke the bottle on the coffee table, even smashed his dinner plate and sent the coffee table across the room. There was so much glass and noise and chaos… and I remember… I remember he pinned me down against the carpet and started lashing out at me, like I was the problem, like I was the reason he was so angry. And I tried to push him away, tried to scream for help, but he took the edge of the broken bottle and slashed my wrist open… he tried to kill me…”

   The bathroom goes completely silent as Joel stares at you with a hint of terror flashing through his eyes. You feel the hot pricks of teardrops cascade down your cheeks, and then you’re a blubbering mess again. “I remember the sirens, the police, how I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. And I was alone, didn’t even remember what happened. All I knew was that I was in a strange place with IVs hooked to my arms, and I could barely see straight because I lost so much blood. And I… I was… I was so scared, Joel. They said… they said I was almost dead. If they would’ve gotten there two minutes later I wouldn’t be sitting here telling you this…”

   Joel wraps his arms firmly around you, cupping the back of your head with a strong hand as he sends a wave of comfort around you, holding you while you cry your heart out and lay out everything just so he knows why you’re so messed up and broken.

   “Oh, babygirl. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. That’s… my god, that’s traumatizing.” You wrap your arms around his thick back, burrowing your face into his warm chest as you soak up his warmth.

   “And he… he always said how nobody else could love me, that I was worthless, that I was nothing. And that’s why… that’s why I am the way I am. Because of him.” Your voice cracks as more tears roll down your face. 

   Joel tips your chin up and rubs the tip of his thumb under your eyes, catching big tears as he brushes them away. “Oh, no no no, sweetheart. Don’t you believe him for one minute. You’re so beautiful and you’re strong and you’re worthy of love. Don’t think for one second on it, darlin’ girl. You’re worth it all.”

   You’re worth it all. The words make your eyes glassy as you stare wondrously at the man that saved you from it all. “Thank you for… for making me feel safe,” you whisper against his chest.

  “Always,” he murmurs as his thick fingers run through your hair calmly. “Thank you for trustin’ me with that information, angel,” he whispers against your ear. “You’re such a brave girl, you know that?” He gently presses his lips to the top of your head, and you sink deeper against his warm, welcoming chest. “The bravest girl I know.”

   You’re such a brave girl. The words make you choke back a sob. “You really think so?”

   “Mhm. I do, angel. I do.” His voice is so warm, almost like a brassy baritone sound that glides through your ears, like you could listen to it for forever.

   You melt into his firm chest, eyes glistening up at him as you swallow your tongue and force more explanations out that he probably doesn’t need. “It’s sometimes hard for me to ask for what I need. After so long of that, I kinda lost my voice on things that matter to me,” you mumble shyly as if he’ll draw back from you, but he only pulls you closer.

   “It’s okay, sweetheart. I can be patient,” he coos into the shell of your ear, sending a wave of relief down your body.

   “That’s why at the diner I couldn’t… I froze up when you asked me what I wanted. And I… God, I knew what I wanted. I just couldn’t say the words,” you stutter out, jumbling the words as they seem to blur all together.

   “Hey, s’alright, angel. I should’ve… fuck. I should’ve been better. The way I acted after the diner. I jus’ can’t tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart. I know I hurt you by what I did. I jus’ wasn’t thinking, and I should’ve picked up on the signs the first night I met you. The way… you were so hesitant, and each time I even got close to your lips… Shit, I’m jus’ real sorry, darlin’. There’s not enough apologies that I could give to make it up to you.” He sighs and drags a large hand through his tousled curls, letting another sigh of frustration catch in his throat. “I’m sorry for leavin’ you on read for two weeks. I jus’… I was a wreck myself, but that’s a sorry excuse for bein’ an asshole, and right now I don’t even deserve redemption after the trouble I caused.”

   You shake your head as if he shouldn’t be apologizing at all. “No, Joel. It’s okay. I should’ve just… I should’ve been better by now. About my feelings, about asking for what I need. I tried to bury my past, but all it did was eat me alive.”

   He cups your chin and lifts your face to where your eyes meet his, and he looks so soft and sincere. You think you could just drown in those syrupy eyes filled with warmth. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t apologize. Not after what you’ve been through, my brave girl. Don’t even think about it for one second.”

   My brave girl. The words send a splash of hope pulling through your veins at the word my, like maybe you are his.

   “Joel, I…”

   “Angel, s’alright. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, alright? Jus’ know that you’re so fuckin’ special, and I swear to god I’ll strangle myself before I ever hurt you again. And if someone even thinks of messin’ with you again, jus’ know I’ll kill ‘em with my bare hands. Because you are one of a kind, angel. Never met a girl like you before…”

   “Joel…” You drag your fingertips across his greying scruff, your eyes glistening with longing and need, and then the word block comes up. You push and push, until you have nothing standing in your way anymore from telling him how you really feel. You take a deep breath and let the words fall off your tongue like you’re free falling, and somehow you know he’ll catch you. “I just… what I wanted to say back at the diner is that… I want you. God, I’ve wanted you for so long. And when you didn’t talk to me for almost two weeks… well… it was just… it was the worst thing ever, but I knew I messed up and probably deserved it and…”

   He cuts you off, muttering a soft apology as he looks at you stunned for half a beat, his eyes raining with a look of longing and relief as he pulls you flush against his chest, letting the bubbles float around your entwined bodies. “Oh, sweetheart. No, you never messed up and you absolutely never deserved that. Listen to me very carefully. You have me. I’m all yours, sweet girl. I’ve been yours since that first night we met. And this is me askin’ for forgiveness, and I pray to god you’ll accept it because I don’t think I can see you walk out of this house unless it’s with me standing by your side.”

   Your eyes go wide as you stare into gentle brown eyes, eyes that say they want you. “You… you still want me? Even after…”

    He pushes back a piece of loose hair and grazes his knuckles softly down your jawline. “Angel, I’ve never stopped wanting you. And now, I want you even more.”

   “You… want me…” you repeat in a hushed whisper, afraid that your ears are deceiving you. No one’s ever wanted you, so how could this perfect, gentle man want you?

   “I want you every minute, every second, every breath of every day, sweetheart. I always want you. And if that asshole or any other fucker ever made you feel like you weren’t wanted then let me show you that that’s not true. Because I want you, angel. You’re worth everything, you beautiful, sweet girl. You’re worth it all.” 

   Your eyes blow wide as you feel a warm teardrop roll down your cheek. Joel brushes it away carefully with the pad of his thumb and lingers against your skin, making you feel warmth you’ve never felt in your life. 

   The bubbles splash around you with every shaky breath you take as your fingers graze his patchy beard, delicately tracing each strand of grey that threads through the dark hair, memorizing each fleck of onyx brown that glitters under the bathroom fluorescent lights. Your other hand pushes back a tousled curl off his tanned forehead, lingering your fingers in his messy hair like it���s your favorite shade of color that you want to lace your fingers through forever.

   This man, this sentimental, extremely sweet hunk of a man is yours. He wants you, he really wants you. And for the first time in your life you know what it should feel like to be cared for, to be wanted, to be loved. At least it feels like love. The slow, sensual way he says your name, the longing gazes from his deep hazel eyes that make you blush like a silly girl with a school crush, the way he takes care of you, listens to you, the way he makes you feel safe like no one else has.

   Safe. He makes you feel so safe, so seen, so loved. That’s it. Love. You love this man, and you really just want to fucking kiss him because he’s looking at you all doe-eyed and like you’re the only thing in the world that he wants to look at. And that’s it. You’re finished, smitten, done. 

   This is it.

   It’s like the world stops spinning on its axis as you carefully lace your fingers through his curls, your other hand sliding along his chiseled jaw as you push yourself higher onto his lap and let your forehead connect with his.    

   He breathes in deep and hooks one arm around your lower back, his other hand skimming underneath your chin, letting the tip of his thumb graze along your lower lip. He lets it sit there, memorizing each crevice, every line that connects your smooth lips, and it’s like fire that tingles down your body, like no one has ever touched you before. Not like this, not like he’s mapping out every single trace of your soul, reaching in and stroking your heart like he’s putting together every broken piece of your shattered past.

   “Do you know what my favorite thing about you is, angel?” He whispers with a deep, gravelly tone, shaking your very core as he continues to explore the lines of your lips.

   “What?” Your voice is so scratchy that you almost don’t recognize it. You’re just very aware of how close his lips are, how intimate this moment is in the bathtub, on his lap while he tells you how much he wants you. And it’s so much, so very paralyzingly too intimate, but you don’t care. You don’t have the strength to deny him any longer when you want him just as badly as he wants you.

   “How brave you are. You’re the bravest, strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And the best part is how you wear your heart on your sleeve even after everything you’ve been through. And I’m so lucky to have had the honor of meeting the prettiest angel in the room the first night I met you. And I’m so happy that I can call you mine, pretty little angel. You’re mine.”

   You lean into Joel’s broad body, threading your fingers through his hair, gasping at the beautiful words that fall off his tongue so easily, mesmerized by the incredible man that keeps you breathless with every word he speaks.

   You breathe in his rich mahogany scent, clinging to every word that wraps around your mind. You brush his nose and feel the warmth that heats off his skin, his lips, his very essence that seems to crash into your own body. And it’s like every single sound in the world stops as your lips brush his, like this is what you’ve waited for your entire life, to kiss him. 

   The slight tug of his large hand that cups the back of your neck is all the motivation you need. You let your hand fall against his slacked jaw, and then your lips are on his.

   Warm. His lips are so warm, soft, perfect. Like they were molded just for you. You lean into his chest and hum against his plush lips as you circle your arms around the back of his neck. It’s like earth stops and gravity isn’t real, even the bubbles in the bath seem to come to a standstill as the kiss permeates throughout the room like sparkling firecrackers filling the warm air.

   You part your lips, allowing him to slot his tongue into your mouth, and then he’s surrounding you in complete warmth as you melt as his honey-like tongue explores your mouth slowly. The kiss is nothing like you’ve experienced before. It’s warm, slow, inviting, and it’s written with Joel all over it.

   Joel doesn’t rush, only takes his time as he delves into your mouth, swallowing his cinnamon taste as you drown in the very essence of him. Your bodies move in unison, fingers threading against one another’s hair, hearts beating impossibly fast against each other’s chests, a slow staccato rhythm that lights hearts on fire. You’ve never experienced anything this romantic in your life.

   The kiss eventually ends as his lips disconnect with yours, and all you want to do is get wrapped up in your favorite lips again, but your breathing is ragged and you need some air as the stifling feelings start to fill your chest.

   Joel laces his fingers through your hair and looks down at you with the most beautiful shade of deep brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and you swear he looks completely smitten with you, almost like he’s in love. “You’re tellin’ me I had to wait that long to kiss you?” He smiles, resting his forehead down on yours.

   “Sorry,” you apologize with red cheeks.

   “Don’t gotta be sorry, angel. That was one hell of a kiss. The best damn kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he purrs, lightly stroking slow circles against your jawline.

   You gently laugh as you curl a finger down his broad chest. “Still, sorry I made you wait so long.”

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “I’d wait forever if I had to, angel. You’re worth it.”

   Your lips part and your eyes glisten as you stare at the man who has your entire heart. And god, you want to tell him how irrevocably in love you are with him, and that’s exactly what you do. You just let it float through the bathroom, completely aware of every single thing that could go wrong, but you can’t hide your feelings for him anymore. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, so you’ll have him. “Joel, I think… I think… I’m in love with you.”

   His eyes soften into molten chocolate, and his smile is absolutely radiant as it curls over his plush lips. “And what would you say if I said I was in love with you, too?”

   “What?” You freeze, thinking you heard that wrong. He loves you? Oh. Oh my…

   “I love you, my sweet little angel. I’ve been in love with you since I saw you across the bar. I jus’ knew you were the one. They always say you know. Didn’t know what they meant until I saw you lookin’ over at me with those beautiful eyes of yours. I knew from that moment you’d be mine.” 

   Your mouth parts open as you suck in a breath, all your guarded walls and insecurities dropping on the spot as you play the words again and again in your head, until you can fully comprehend what he just said to you.

   He’s in love with you. With you! You don’t know how, you don’t know why he did, but you just know you feel it as much as he does. And your skin is absolutely glowing as you grin mesmerizingly up at his brown starry eyes. “You really love me?”

   “Oh, my little angel. Yes, I love you. You take the breath out of me.”

   You map out every fleck of amber in his eyes, every crevice of pure syrupy colors that call your name like a magical siren, and then you’re falling, crashing into his lips until you can only breathe him. There’s no oxygen left, there’s only him and his cinnamon taste that drips off your tongue.

   Your body molds to his, fingers lacing through messy curls, chest flush to his, climbing him like you can’t get close enough, can’t touch his tanned skin enough, can’t be satiated when his tongue is circling yours, marking his taste where you think you need him the most, so it can slip down and wrap around your heart, marking you as his own.

   After a few minutes of heated tension and messy kisses, you untether from each other and just sit there in the warm, bubbly water, just breathing each other’s air like it’s the only oxygen you need. It’s just you and Joel, your own little safe space, a space he carved out just for you.

   He turns you around and brings your back flush to his chest, wrapping a protective arm around your hips while his lips trace the top of your head until you can only close your eyes and breathe him in. Coffee, cinnamon, a fresh forest with chopped firewood. A warm fire, burning just for you. 

   After another half hour Joel helps you out of the tub, wrapping a soft cotton towel around your soaked body. He uses his large hands to help you dry off, taking slow strokes to your skin as the towel dries the water off your skin. He’s so gentle, careful, even delicate with every move he makes, every touch, every breath. He’s just… perfect. 

   “Here, you can wear some of my sweats. And I’ll get you a clean shirt.” 

   “Oh, okay,” you smile. He brushes his lips over your forehead softly before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off to his closet, searching around for clothes that you get to wear. 

   You lean against the bathroom doorway and stare mesmerizingly at this beautiful man, watching him toss a long white t-shirt over his bare shoulder as his hands move hangers out of the way to find his sweats. You laugh at the way he tosses hangers to the side, muttering under his breath that he knows he put them right there. You tilt your head back against the bathroom door, assessing him while he works to find you just what you need.

   Your eyes flit to the center of the room where a large mirror hangs and shades of soft cream fill the walls. You freeze when you see it, jaw dropping as you take in what sits on the edge of his mahogany dresser, right where the sunlight catches from the open window. There, right on the crevice of the dresser is a shiny hardcover Iron Flame book. “You bought Iron Flame?”

   “Mhm,” he smiles, turning toward you with a fresh pair of grey sweats in his hand.

   “But why? I thought…”

   “I bought it because it was the closest thing I could get to havin’ you near me when all I wanted was you in my arms.” 

   You look at him wide-eyed, a small smile curling over your mouth as he comes and stands in front of you, trailing a hand slowly down your jawline. “Joel… you finished Fourth Wing?”

   “Two days after the diner, that’s all I did was read. Finished it in one night because I could smell you on the pages. You smell like freshly printed books on a warm summer’s evening, and it had your scent all over those pages, angel.” His lips brush over yours, just long enough to breathe in his fresh cologne, and you feel as if you’re free falling in thin air, but Joel’s right at the bottom, ready to catch you before you collapse. 

   “Joel… I… I’m speechless. You read because it reminded you of me?” you whisper out.

   “Mhm. That’s right, sweet girl. Jus’ for you.” His fingers lace with yours, lips caressing your knuckles as if he’s drinking you in.

   “I… God, I love you.”

   He lifts his eyes and smiles at you as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. “I love you, too, my beautiful angel…”

   Then his lips are on yours. Soft, gentle, magnetic, electric. And there you go, floating off into a fluffy cloud as his taste and touch send you into a euphoric trance.

   “Are you hungry?” he asks as lets his hands slide from your waist.

   “Mhm.”

   “How ‘bout I cook you come breakfast? But, I have a condition.”

   You raise your eyebrows and playfully smirk at him. “And what’s that?” you giggle.

   “Read to me.” It’s not a question but an ask. He wants you to read to him.

   “You want me to read to you?” Your eyes flick up to his, and those gentle brown eyes are searing into your soul.

   “Yes. Wanna hear that beautiful voice of yours. Read me Iron Flame.”

   You let the words simmer for a few seconds as he slips on a pair of casual jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his broad chest, making the sculpted muscles flare against his strong build. And his messy curls are still wet and slicked back and so beautiful. This man is more than perfect, he’s yours. Just as you are his.

   “Okay,” you smile, feeling your cheeks blush red as he sends a crooked, adorable smile your way. 

   God, you’re never going to get enough of this man.

   After breakfast, you and Joel end up in his favorite leather recliner. He laces his arms around you and brings you flush against his broad chest, circling his hands with yours as you hold up Iron Flame and quietly read it together. His warm breath blows down the nape of your neck, and you lean into his space, letting the scent of coffee and pine cones envelop the air. You think this is how it always should’ve been, what you’ve been looking for your entire life. It’s Joel. It’s always been Joel. You just had to pave your way through the bad guys to find your knight in shining armor. The one you were always meant to fall in love with.

   “I love you, pretty girl,” he whispers in the shell of your ear, holding you tighter like he never wants to let you go.

   “And I love you too, Joel Miller.”

   “Think these two are endgame?” He’s referring to Violet and Xaden in the book, but you really think he’s talking about you and him.

   “Still got three books to go, but I see it like the ending is right in front of me. They’re so endgame.”

   “Think you’re right, my sweet angel. I think they’re infinite, like you and me.” His lips brush against your forehead, and his fingers lace through yours as you let the next page fall away from your grasp.

   “Infinite, huh?” you whisper.

   “Infinite,” he confirms.

   You tilt your head up and let your lips capture his, saying your feelings as you tug him closer and run your fingers through his thick curls, giggling as he cradles you in his arms and slots his tongue against yours, letting the coffee serenade you with the taste of Joel on your lips.

   You think this is how it should always be, you and him. Right here in his recliner, reading books together, entwined fingers, lips on each other’s as if you both can’t get enough of one another. 

   You were always meant to find him. And he turned out to be your knight in shining armor. And maybe your forever.

   This was just the beginning. You still had a lifetime to go.

[heizlut]

Me & The Devil

*an alternative (and more toxic) version of the original

TW: dark content, heavy manipulation, twisted behavior, gaslighting, somnophilia, dacryphilia, proceed with caution

tags: switch yandere fem!reader, yandere dom!dottore, mostly proofread sry for any mistakes

word count: 4.5k

nsfw under the cut

a/n: this is an alternative version of the original which means some things are the same but with new additions and a different ending. both versions are equally fucked up.

check out my masterlist here!

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

Who would have thought that you would be the one to bring Dottore to his knees? He would do anything and everything for you. No one can recall just when you managed to get him wrapped around your finger. You both were the objects of each other’s depraved desires whether either of you knew each other’s intentions from the start or not. It’s hard to believe that anyone could match up to Dottore’s level of twisted manipulation, but you did, deliciously so.

—

You were always such a curious akademiya student; always off on your own and researching whatever you pleased. Your curiosity for the forbidden was becoming quite the talk at the akademiya. Your interest piqued when you found left over research notes from a previous student named Zandik. After asking around and getting strange looks from others, you were about to give up on your search for the man. You bumped into something hard causing you to drop the notes and files you had found and you land hard on your ass. When you looked up, you saw a tall man with blue hair wearing a mask that hid his features. You were immediately entranced by his mysterious aura.

He didn’t think much of you at first until he saw what had scattered on the ground. With a smirk, he held out his hand to you, “I apologize. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going.” You felt your heart race as your thoughts began to twist. You grabbed his hand, pretending to wince as though the pain from your fall was bit much to bear, “I should be the one to apologize. I’m the one who ran into you.” The man laughed it off and bent down to help you gather your papers to which you tried to quickly hide what they contained.

Your reaction made him raise an eyebrow under his mask, “What’s this? Do you have something to hide, little one?” You felt your face heat up at the accusation and the nickname. It felt like he could see right through you, but oh did it send delicious tingles right up your spine, “N-no.. It’s just-“ You sighed as you gathered your thoughts. “If you’d like, we could go somewhere else if you’d like to tell me about it?”, he offered with a smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nodded and gave a small smile in return setting your own plans in motion, “It would be nice to have someone to share this with. Thank you.”

You learned that the man was named Dottore. He listened to everything you explained with just a sly smirk on his face. The mask he wore made it hard for you to decipher his true feelings, but the fact that he had sat there and listened with some sort of intrigue to what you were saying made you feel like you were finally understood. He made no move to berate you for what you chose to have an interest in.

Little did you know that the files and notes you had found were all from him and his previous research from before he was expelled from the akademiya and changed his name. He was more than happy to entertain your curiosity. Initially, it shocked you when he offered his hand to you for the second time that day and asked if you would like to pursue your curiosities further with him as your mentor. Your shock morphed into secret satisfaction when you realized that you were getting the chance to act on your twisting thoughts. You gave him an innocent smile as you took his hand. That’s where it all began.

—

At first, Dottore kept some distance from you. You didn’t like that he did this. You wanted to be desired by him in the same way that you desired him. Little by little he began to cut you off from the rest of the world without you paying it any mind. It started with him offering for you to stay one night since it had gotten late and you had carefully feigned your worry about going home alone in the dark. You held back your giddy feelings and graciously accepted to stay.

Soon it became a habit to stay with him after long days of researching and experimenting together. You had your own sleeping quarters, which you had found to be a disappointment, but you knew you could turn this in your favor. Dottore was good at hiding his true intentions and the dark things he was doing without your knowledge. He was so careful to show you only what he wanted you to see. But he didn’t know you had been doing the very same since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Next, he made an offhand comment about you just dropping out of the akademiya and studying under him full time. He had only said it when you came to his place after yet another tough day at the akademiya. You had walked in with a dark and tired look in your eyes, dropping your heavy bag to the ground with a loud thud. Dottore tilted his head slightly at your demeanor, “Would you like to share what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His words felt like it had lit you on fire from the inside. You wanted to take what was just your typical tough day of study and craft your words in such a way that would keep you even closer to him.

You walked up to the table between the two of you and let out a dramatic sigh. You leaned forward, your elbows propped up on the table and your hand resting under your chin. You made sure to arch your back just enough to give off the appeal you wanted to portray and looked up at him innocently through your lashes. From there, you began to go on and on about how you wish you could fully pursue your true interests without interference. He listened to you intently; his eyes travelled subtly across your features, drinking them in. As soon as you finished, he told you to simply drop out and he would take care of you. You took a moment to realize your plan had worked and looked at him with such admiration when he made his suggestion. Your silence made him want to comfort you, so with his own carefully crafted words he smiled, “It’s all up to you. But just know… You’ll never reach your true potential if you’re trapped under the akademiya’s thumb.” You acted as though you were mulling over his words when in reality your fantasies were running rampant in your mind.

“I can give you everything you need. All you need to do is say the word.”, is what he said as he watched the gears turn in your head. You looked up at him in such a way that made his heart skip, “I’ll drop out. Just promise me that you’ll help me pursue what I want.” To anyone else, it would have seemed as though you meant that you wanted to pursue your true interests in your research, but in truth, your strongest pursuit was him.

The smile on his face grew as he made his promise to you. If you could see the look in his eyes without the mask obscuring your view, you would have noticed that his smile held insanity and obsession. He wanted you all to himself and he was finally getting closer to what he wanted. So were you.

—

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. You and Dottore had each other so caught up in one's web of manipulation. Both of you were none the wiser of what the other was doing. You acted as though you were dependent on him, letting him cut you off from the world. When was the last time you had been outside with the sun warming your skin? You laugh at the thought. Why would you care when you had everything you wanted right here? You would do literally anything to have Dottore all to yourself. You both kept each other close as he helped you get further along with your research. He gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked. He was oh so good to you. He never even asked for anything in return, to your own dismay...

It actually bothered you. Why wouldn't he ask anything of you? He could demand you to get on your knees for him and choke on his cock in return for what he's done for you and you'd do it happily. But he never did... You began to hint that you would like to return his many favors, but Dottore would just brush you off with a laugh and a smile saying that seeing you happy with what you were accomplishing together was more than enough. You felt conflicted at the words. They were sweet which must mean he felt something for you right? But you were also conflicted because you wanted him to just take what he wanted from you. One thing you failed to notice as the way his gaze on you would change when your back was turned from him. The way it travelled down your body, taking in every inch and curve, committing it to memory... It was dark and hungry...

You formulated a sly little plan in hopes of getting his attention. You reached up to grab a new test tube from a shelf that was just out of your reach. Making sure the little skirt you wore rose up to expose a bit of the roundness of your ass. Your breath hitched with excitement when you felt a hand touch your waist. A hard chest pressed up against your back. Hot breath on your neck... "Let me get that for you." His voice sent tingles straight to your aching cunt. Dottore had never touched you like this before... Your thoughts swirled in a frenzy in your mind. Fantasizing about him bending you over right there and fucking you senseless. You must have been silent for too long because he let out a breathy laugh, the test tube held in front of your heated face, "Aren't you going to take it, dear?" Your cunt clenched around nothing as you bit your lip and took the test tube from his hands, muttering your thanks.

His hands lingered, moving down your body. You tried to contain yourself when you swore you felt something hard poking your ass. Did he really want you as much as you wanted him? You wanted to look at him, see what kind of expression he had. You began to try and turn around only to be pushed further into the shelf, the spare glassware rattled from the impact. Dottore's sly smile that played upon his lips. The dark look in his eyes... Everything that was happening made your breath quicken. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Anything you want to share?", he was taunting you. He wanted to push the boundaries with you. You blushed hard. You were finally getting the attention you desired but you couldn't get the words out. He stepped away from you with a small laugh, "You don't have to tell me. Your face says it all." With one last smirk, he walked away, leaving you flustered.

—

Nothing else happened for awhile after that. This bothered you greatly. Fuck... You were so close to getting exactly what you wanted, yet you had to go and fuck it up by being unable to speak. But with what had happened, your fantasies ran rampant in your mind. You felt yourself grow slick with arousal as you lay in your bed. You kept replaying the way he had looked at you, the way he touched you... You let out a frustrated groan when your fingers just weren't enough to bring you over the edge. You wondered if he was laid up in his bed fantasizing about you in the way you were of him. You let yourself fall asleep, frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

Dottore stood there over your sleeping form. His cock stirring to life as he rubbed himself through his pants at just how innocent you looked as you slept. You rolled onto your back in your sleep, muttering his name. His eyes squeezed shut as he palmed himself with more pressure. You had said his name in your sleep. You must have been dreaming about him. Dottore lets out a groan of satisfaction. His sweet little student was thinking of him in their sleep... He pulled his heavy cock from his pants, pumping his length over your sleeping form. Little did he know, the slick sound of him jerking off and his soft deep grunts woke you. You opened one eye just enough to see his eyes tightly shut and his large hand wrapped around his cock. You wanted to use this to your advantage. You wanted his cum. Needed it.

You let out a soft breathy moan of his name, causing him to release all over your face with a choked groan. You did your best to act as though you were still asleep and simply dreaming of him. He smirked as he kneeled down next to you, tucking himself back into his pants. He admired how much prettier you looked with his cum splattered across your sweet face. Dottore takes his finger, running it through his release. Once he gathered enough on his finger, he gently pressed it into your slightly parted mouth. It took everything in you to not suck his finger and swirl your tongue around it to taste everything he was giving you. He hoped you would wake up with the taste of his essence still on your tongue. He removed his shirt and used it to gently wipe the remaining cum off of your face (much to your dissatisfaction). He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "Sweet dreams, little one."

—

You woke up the next day with the taste of his cum still on your tongue. Your needy little pussy was soaked and aching to be filled by his cock. Images of Dottore touching you even more than he did that day in the lab up against the shelves, kissing your neck and down your body as his hands gripped your hips. These fantasies were eating you alive, but now you knew for sure he felt the same. Why else would he do what he did last night? You got up from your bed and make your way to the shower. Your clothes dropped to the floor and you let the water run down your body as your thoughts flood your mind. He consumed your life and you hoped you consumed his just as much. You were in so deep now, there was no going back. Not like you wanted things to end right when they had started getting good. You needed him. He needed to be yours. No one else's.

The days passed by and you felt as though you were going fucking insane. He made no new moves on you and things felt as though they took several steps back from the progress you thought you had made. Little did you know that Dottore was planning even more in his twisted mind. He was being so careful with his manipulation. Giving then pulling away. He wanted to drive you crazy and make you feel like you needed him in order to survive. He wanted your thoughts to be on him and only him. It didn't take long for you to notice him touching you more frequently. His fingers lingering as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt against his fingertips. He began pressing himself against you as he passed behind you. The feeling made you almost feral. Did he not realize your cunt was constantly soaked and dripping because of him?!

You made sure to dress a little more provocatively to keep his attention and his touches frequent. You were subtle enough to keep him guessing if you were dressing like this for him or if your style was simply changing as time when on. Archons did he hope you were doing it for him. One evening you sat across from Dottore, pushing your food around your plate with your chopsticks, caught up in thoughts of him pushing the dishes off the table and fucking you right there. He studied you curiously, wanting to pry into your sick little mind, "Is everything alright, dear? You know you can tell me anything. I'll listen." You snapped out of your dirty thoughts, looking up at him with a dazed expression. You rubbed your thighs together to ease your aching pussy, the frustration bubbling up to the surface, tired of playing fucking mind games, "What are we doing." He tilted his head slightly at your words, he sensed the frustration and wanted to push you further, "Whatever do you mean? We are research partners. I am your mentor. Does that not satisfy you?"

Your face heated up and you clenched your jaw. What was his deal? Didn't he want you like you wanted him? You took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself, "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I.. I guess I am satisfied." Before you could continue, Dottore cut you off, his palms pressed against the table as he leans over it, "Always so humble.." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and leaned in even closer to your face. Your expression a mix of frustration and confusion. "Too bad I'm not satisfied", his tone dark. Your thoughts run wild yet again and he smirks, "Be mine. I can give you even more than what I give you now. After all... It's only fair... You owe me so much..."

You swore your pupils dilated, your breath quickened, and fuck, you were dripping. Dottore thought he was so clever for everything that had happened leading to this point. A sick smirk on his face which turns to slight confusion when your lips curl into a smile. You looked just as crazed as him. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher just what exactly was going on. Before he could ask you, you closed the gap, slamming your lips against his in a heated kiss. Dottore gasped in surprise but it slowly morphed into a low groan as you gently bit down on his bottom lip. As you finally broke away, breathing heavily, he got up and quickly made his way over to your side of the table. He grabbed your wrist pulling you up and pinned you roughly against the wall.

The look on his face should have scared you, but it only served to make you even more wild for him. Dottore pinned your wrists above your head with one hand and caressed your cheek with the other, "What a turn of events, little one..." He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as he looked into your eyes with deep intensity, "You're not going to leave me. Not now..." He paused, his tongue flicking out to lick your lips, "Not ever." You let out a breathy moan. This is all you've ever wanted. Fuck, it was finally happening. You were practically shaking against him, not to be mistaken for fear but of unbridled arousal and desperate need. "I'm yours... and you're mine", your breath danced across his lips as you spoke. You rolled your hips forward to grind against his hardness. Your words and every sensation he felt with you in that moment made him snap.

Dottore tore open your blouse, buttons flying across the room. He let go of your wrists to cup your breasts, a sick sense of pleasure washes over both of you. If only you could see the deeply depraved looks you showed the other in this moment. You bit down on your lip as he pinched and rolled your pebbled nipples between his fingertips. He couldn't get enough of every little expression you made. He wanted to see more... One hand travelled down your curves and makes its way to your aching center, moving your drenched panties to the side. He tilted his head a bit, giving you a dark smirk as he gently and slowly pressed a finger to your clit, drawing a small, frustrated whimper from you, "Your little cunt is absolutely soaked... It's just begging for me to claim it."

Your gaze danced between his eyes, lips, and down to where he was toying with your swollen clit, "It's yours to take. Always has been." Your voice a mere breath, drawing a growl from his lips as he plunged two fingers into your cunt. Tears of arousal and relief slipped down your soft cheeks, your jaw hanging open in a soundless moan. Dottore leaned forward, licking the salty tears from your cheeks. Archons, it was such a disgusting act yet it made you pulse around his digits. "Did it feel like this in your little fantasies of me?", his tone was teasing and dark. A small depraved smile tugs at your lips as you let out a breathy reply, "This is even better." There was a glint in your eyes, a dangerous one, "I need more."

You pushed him away and a stumbles slightly, caught off guard and his fingers leave you empty. You didn't care so much as you were now quickly getting to your knees and fumbling with getting his pants undone. Dottore looked down in surprise. Everything you've been doing has been throwing him off. Did his careful manipulation actually work on you to make you like this or did you play your own little games with him as well? You smirked up at him as you free his heavy cock, pumping it in your small hand. He wished he could take a picture of how you looked right then. So fucking devious, as if you planned this whole thing. He was the one who was supposed to be playing you to get what he wanted... His thoughts were interrupted when you took his length into your mouth, a rumbling groan rips from his chest as he took in the sensation of your hot mouth and your your tongue swirling around his cock.

He gripped onto your hair, tangling his fingers in it as he began thrusting into your throat. You choked, your throat tightening around his thick length made his eyes roll back, "Thaaat's it... Take it." You felt so much bliss in this moment. Your object of desire was finally where you wanted him to be. Letting him throat fuck you was just too good. You felt his grip tighten and you knew he was about to cum. You fought to gain control again, pulling away and digging your nails into his thighs. He winced slightly and let go, allowing you to remove your mouth from his throbbing cock. Dottore narrowed his eyes down at you, getting pissed at the smug look on your face as you begun to stand up, "You're not cumming unless you're filling up my cunt." Your lips grazed his as you whisper, "Breed me. Make me yours, Zandik."

That was fucking it. Hearing his real name fall from your gorgeous lips was the final straw. Dottore grabbed you harshly, pushing all the dishes from the table and onto the floor. The sound of glass breaking was barely registered by either of you as he bent you over the table. One hand pushed the middle of your back down, pressing you harder against the rough wood as the other hand lined his leaking cock up with your dripping entrance, "This is going to hurt, dear." No words could describe the absolute fucking pleasure you both felt as he forced his way inside your tight cunt. Drawn out moans fell from both of you as Dottore sank deeper into you. Once he was fully sheathed, he gripped your hair tugging your head up and using his other hand to grasp your chin so you were looking towards him, "Open your mouth." His command had you immediately obeying. He smirked as spat into your mouth, "Don't swallow. Keep it until I tell you otherwise."

You nodded, the taste of his saliva sitting on your tongue made you wish it was his cum instead. He gave your ass a harsh smack and released his grip on your hair. Your head involuntarily thrown back in pleasure from the smack and your wet pussy clenched tightly around his cock. A dark, crazed chuckles left Dottore's lips as he grabs onto the fat of your hips and begins slowly dragging his cock from your core. With just the tip left inside, he pauses, making you wiggle your hips in desperation. His grip tightens, "Ah ah, you get what I give you, little one." A whine leaves your lips, but before you could make more noise of protest, he slammed roughly into you. His pace was unwavering as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks, trying your best not to let his saliva he had given you earlier be swallowed or fall through your lips you were struggling to keep closed.

The way your gummy walls gripped and lubed his cock was highly intoxicating to him. He was finally having his way with you and he wasn't about to let this be a one time session. Depraved thoughts clouded his mind as he fucked into you, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, making you cry out through closed lips. Dottore's thoughts ranged from impregnating you, keeping you naked and restrained to his bed, making you free use for him and only him. What made this somewhat funny in a fucked up way was that you were thinking the exact same thing. You were so desperate for him. Just the mere thought of his name made you insane. He was snapped from his twisted musings when he felt something gush down his cock on all over the floor. The absolute crazed smile on his face would be terrifying to any outsider, but he couldn't contain his emotions at the fact that he made you squirt all over his dick.

Dottore gripped your hair tightly yet again, yanking your head up to look up at him from over your shoulder. Fuck, you were so perfect with tears running down your reddened cheeks, your mouth obediently closed to hold the saliva that he considered a fucking gift to you. From that alone, his eyes rolled back and his cock throbbed inside of you, releasing thick, hot ropes of cum right up against your cervix. After letting his orgasm subside, he opened his eyes, looking directly into your fucked out gaze, "What a good little pet you've been... You may swallow." You swallowed the spit you had been holding in your mouth, not daring to break your gaze from his. The corners of your lips tugged into a sick smile, "Now you're mine and I am yours. You're never getting rid of me."

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: the long awaited alternative version is here! i wanted to do so much more with this but it would’ve ended up as a short novel. hope you all enjoyed it😘

[ashipiko]

—ATLAN TREIN

All information on Atlan Trein ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: February 12th

Height: 179cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: None

Favorite Subject: Music

Best Subject: History of Magic

Likes: Making friends

Dislikes: Being called “Mommy’s Boy”

Favorite Food: Bread

Least Favorite Food: Pumpkin

Speciality: Getting people interested in drama

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

CALLING HOME…

— Pomefiore Dorms - Atlan’s Room —

[VOICEMAIL BEGIN]

…Moooom, I know it’s kind of late, so I’m sending in a voicemail, but— You can listen to this in the morning while you get ready, right?

I know it’s only the first day of this school year but please, can you just give me permission to go home or something?!

I don’t wanna be here anymore! Just take me back home! I’m not learning anything new at this school. Sure, the drama and gossip is kind of interesting, but, ugh, it gets old really fast.

—N-Not that I’m the one spreading it around. Of course not! You could never expect that from your beloved son.

Uncle is already starting to freak me out, though. I swear whenever I looked up from my desk during history, either he or Lucius would be staring straight at me. He didn’t call you before me, right? Don’t tell me he did! I promise, I haven’t done anything—!

Ugh, not to mention, it’s just as hard to provide for myself as last year… I honestly think the lack of roommates is more of a con than anything. It makes it even harder to talk to people, tch.

…Like, I get that you want me to learn how to survive on my own, but seriously…? I don’t think being surrounded by all of these… what’s a word that’s not pleb but similar… Ah. Idiotic peers, is the right way to go about it.

Oh! I almost forgot the most important part about today. At the welcoming ceremony, there was a huge and giant fiasco. Apparently some person not from here crashed the ceremony. And no, not not from here as in Sage’s Island, I mean Twisted Wonderland! Isn’t that crazy? It would be funny if it was through time travel, hahaha!

They seemed quite out of it. Lost for words and confused. I think they even got caught on fire. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I think I even heard house warden Vil critique them!

Ah— Sorry if that was a lot. You take a long while to apply your makeup anyways, right? It’s just that I don’t really have anyone here to talk to about this, and I’m quite bad at small talk, so…

You know.

…Well then. I love you. I hope I see you soon. And consider my request—!

Goodnight.

[VOICEMAIL END]

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Atlan is twisted off of Anastasia from Cinderella!

Despite this, he isn’t Trein’s son. He’s his nephew. I figured it would be a little funnier this way.

Atlan isn’t exactly liked at NRC. To say the least, his entire personality is that he talks about other people. That’s it. Not in a praising way either— He’ll talk about whatever things he’s heard around. Hence, his ear for gossip.

His tie to Yuu would most likely stem from Yuu hearing that someone had been talking about them in a gossipy way, and therefore finding out who it was (because Yuu protection squad is a very real and scary thing). Either that or tracking him down because they think he might have information.

Atlan’s reasoning behind all his talk being rumors and topics about other people is because he’s not very good at socializing himself. He grew up a little sheltered with a bratty older sister who he’d always fight with. Lots of screaming and the such. Both of the siblings ended up being a little spoiled, and with some unbearable personalities, resulting in people not really wanting to become their friends.

The rest of his family didn’t seem to mind the fact that they weren’t as liked as others, but Atlan always sort of wanted to find out a way to reach out. To have friends and see what the normal person’s life would be. However, due to the lack of support, every time he attempted to reach for his goal, it would end up in failure. Nobody to correct his behavior, and nobody who would try to help him understand himself.

His mother, noticing this behavior of his, decided that the best course of action would to be to send him off by himself to a school filled to the brim with other people his age, who he could learn to interact with— Night Raven College.

But you would guess, something like that doesn’t go well for a boy who depended on his mother and her money for comfort.

Like a fish on land, Atlan tries his best to be open and talk to people, but upon becoming independent, he realizes that he doesn’t really have much going for him. And as people got to know him, he felt as if they were right— He’s nothing but a person who trash talks people and brags about his money.

He cracks under pressure easily when the atmosphere is awkward, and has no idea how to go about small talk. Atlan isn’t the best person to tell your secrets to, as he’ll probably end up using it as a conversation starter.

Atlan has an oresama air to him, but he really just wants to be part of the crowd rather than someone alienated for something he doesn’t know how to navigate. Maybe one day he’ll find the right crowd to surround himself with. A helping hand to guide him. But for now, he’s stuck, enrolled in NRC under his mother’s word.

More to be added!

[taesancult]

taesan + possessive sex + filling your womb with his cum 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

(it's possible) he'd be very sexy if he did that💋

WHEW- possessiveness + jealousy is such a good look on him like him rolling his eyes, clenching his jaw, glaring- i love it i live for it truly

warnings: objectification, boundaries being crossed (not by my king taesan tho, by a stranger), dirty talk, possessiveness ofc, breeding, i went overboard AGAIN! because this is my man and i love him, big dick!taesan bc it’s canon, unprotected seggs (be safe!), kinda rough tbh

18+ stuff under the cut. mdni.

taesan doesn’t get jealous all that often, and if he does he’s upfront about it. letting you know so that way the two of you can talk things out and figure out where this jealous is stemming from. however, he can’t really control his emotions when someone else can’t get a hint. say a person that profusely kept hitting on you, despite him literally being right there.

you two would be out at a party, the night was actually going great, until some guy wouldn’t leave you alone. at first, taesan didn’t care as the guy made small talk with you and he was watching from across the room. he started to really care when that same guy put his arm around you. um no. you abruptly turned, pushing the guy off of you and telling him that you’re taken. taesan saw this guy literally shrug and that’s when he really got pissed. he made his way across the room to you and immediately put an arm around your waist. “excuse me. she’s mine.” he said as he glared at him. “she’s not an object. seems kinda toxic of you. call me if you ever want to get away from him.” he gestured to you. oh he was fuming now. little did that random man know, you liked it when he was possessive, you liked the idea of being an object. his object.

he knew it was better to be the bigger person, so he grabbed your arm and led you away. he went outside, stopping to check on you. when you assured him that you were okay, just a bit frustrated. then, he asked if you wanted to go home, and when you said yes, he raced home. as soon as you got there, he slammed you against the wall. “did you like that? i bet your pussy is practically gushing from that interaction.” he’d accuse you with a fire in his eyes. “n-no he was so gross! but…” “but?” he raised his eyebrow at you. “seeing you get so angry for me was so sexy.” you would tell him as you had a flirty look in your eyes, causing him to smirk at you. he wasn’t mad at you, he knew it wasn’t your fault, but he was furious to say the least. “i’m going to ruin you.” he would say as he picked you up, taking you to the bedroom.

once the foreplay was done, he would turn you over so you were lying on your tummy. “ass up, baby.” he’d say as his voice was laced with impatience. you quickly got into the position, your face smushed into the pillows as you felt his hands tightly grip your waist. you had already reached your high a few times as taesan really wanted to overstimulate you, to show you only he could please you. he guided his hard cock to your cunt, rubbing the tip all along your folds to tease you, some of your wetness from your arousal and previous orgasms coating his cock in the process. “dongmin! no teasing, just put it in already!” you whined out, the emptiness of your pussy starting to annoy you. “yeah? my desperate girl wants my cock?” he’d arrogantly ask, and in turn you would just moan out into the pillows. “yes! need your big cock in me, show me who i belong to.” oh he would absolutely wreck you after that statement. his ego was through the roof, a smile plastered on his handsome face as he started sliding in.

once he made sure you were fully comfortable, he would just start going at it so heavily. smacking his hips against your pelvis as his grip on your hips never let up. you would definitely have bruises tomorrow, and the thought just made you even more turned on. “fuck- this pussy is the best,” he’d groan out as he started pumping faster, “gonna cum so deep in you, you want my cum, baby?” he would ask, and you would just moan out. he would smack your ass, prompting a response, “use your words.” “yes! want you to cum in me so bad!” he would keep pumping his cock into your cunt, his pace only faltering as his high got near. he snaked his hand around your body so he could rub your clit. you moaned out, your body clenching around him as you got closer and closer to your orgasm. “fuck! i’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as he felt himself on the brink, and you were right there with him. “inside! want all of it!” you cried out causing him to finish, his cum coating your walls, filling you up so deep. the feeling of his cum inside you as well as his hand still playing with your clit was enough to make you reach your high too.

as your highs started to fade, the two of you basked in the afterglow. he flopped next to you on the bed, making sure to wrap a gentle arm around you. you both were breathing so heavily together from the sheer impact of your orgasms. “god, you really need to get jealous more.” you said to him as he laughed at you. “really? you like that side of me?” he said as he smiled at you. “yeah it’s sexy, but at the same time you know i’m yours right?” you asked, and he nodded his head. “i know baby, and i’m yours, it’s just fun to have a little drama in our lives huh?” you both smiled at each other as you then spent the night cuddling.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Can you believe I've never done Farmtale Sans before? As a certified country girl? Shocking, I know. I'll rectify this issue with my latest brainrot scenario immediately

---

“whoever this is, it better be real fuckin’ important,” the voice at the other end said, gruff and tired, heavy with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness.

Immediately, shame washed over you. The very small amount of steam you’d managed to muster up completely dissipated from your body as you imagined Sans’ disappointed and disbelieving reaction to your pathetic request.

This was a mistake.

“... H-hey. Uhm... I’m fine, I didn’t mean to call. Butt dial, hahah.” Your voice nearly cracked. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“... wait.” His voice instantly changed. “hey, don’t hang up-”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You hung up, and put the phone down. Now you were right back to square one, sitting at the kitchen table in a freezing empty house at 2 in the morning. It had taken you almost half an hour to muster up the courage to call him- thirty minutes of sitting by the phone, wrapped up in your coat, shaking and holding back tears. You started plotting places you were going to sleep. Maybe if you put more wood in the kitchen stove, you could just sleep at the table until morning. 

... You inherited this place from your grandmother. It was a ‘rustic’ house that hadn’t seen human company for over a decade, in the middle of the deep countryside, cut off from almost everything. Spooky, draughty, on nights like tonight sitting in the kitchen was like sitting in a fridge. You had moved out of necessity- your landlord in the city had evicted you from your beloved apartment to jack up his prices, and you couldn’t find anywhere else to live except this middle-of-nowhere house left in your name.

You had lived in the city your whole life. You weren’t used to being in the country, not at all. The month you’d spent here had only reinforced that fact to you, over and over.

Something made a noise outside. An animal, maybe. You curled your coat tighter around you.

The only upside so far had been meeting the monsters that made up the tight-knit community you had been unceremoniously dropped into. Papyrus and Sans, especially, had been so wonderful and helpful. Sans had told you to call if you needed anything.

... Which was exactly why you didn’t have the heart to tell him why you were really calling. You didn’t want him to think any worse of you than he probably already did. A stuck-up city girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

You were scared.

... 

The phone rang. The sound made you jump, it felt so loud in the silence. Despite your increasing shame, and the desire to just let it ring... you picked up.

“c’mon, don’t be like that.” He sounded much softer than when he had first answered. “what’s wrong? something happen?”

“N-no.” Hearing someone else’s voice was so comforting. You felt so alone, far away from everyone. “It’s nothing.”

You obviously weren’t very convincing. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you sound terrified.”

“I’m just cold.”

“didja kill someone? do i need to come over and help hide a body?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you giggle a little.

...

It just came. You didn’t entirely know why. Probably because it was two, and you hadn’t slept since six the previous morning. Unable to help yourself, you just... burst into tears.

“hey. s’ok, you’re gonna be ok. i’m on the way.”

“N-no, no, please,” You pressed your sleeve against your eyes The shame was absolutely overwhelming. “Please don’t come,”

“too late. already outta bed, it’s serious business. you gonna tell me what’s got you all shaken up?”

You pulled your knees up to your face. Well, no hiding it now, huh? He’d heard you sobbing over the phone. Your voice crumpled under a mixture of tears, fear, immense fatigue and shame. You felt like such a baby. 

“Th-there’s a huge spider on my bed,” you finally admitted, feebly. “I-I’m... I don’t know what to do.”

“aw jeez. why didn’t you just say?”

You could suddenly barely talk through the crying. Hours of stress, all coming out in one mess. He probably thought you were pathetic.

“hey. knock knock.”

As he said that, you heard two soft knocks on your side door. You jumped up, what the hell? Was that Sans? You dropped the phone and rushed to the door to let him in, almost tripping over yourself. 

You opened the door, the air was full of the sound of wind and crickets. Sans stood in the darkness outside of the house, dressed in a thick knitted sweater, blue and white striped pyjama bottoms, big heavy boots, and a coat over the top of it all. He had the phone in one hand, and his smile widened when he saw you.

Shocked, you scrubbed at your eyes and nose again, self consciously trying to wipe off the tears and snot. He lived half an hour's drive from you. “H-how... how did you get here so fast?”

“shortcut.” He winked, those lovely emerald green eyelights glimmering in the low light. “can i come in?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping to the side. Maybe he knew roads your map apps didn't. Sans eagerly came into the light, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him.

“this way?” he asked. 

... You showed him to the bedroom, but cowered in the doorway. 

“I-it’s under the sheet.”

Sans didn’t even hesitate. He approached the bed and flipped back the sheet. The spider hadn’t moved since you last saw it scurry under your bedclothes, still sitting right there, with its fat hairy body and sharp legs. It was probably the biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. You felt a horrible chill pass over you.

“dang. he is big. look at the size of that gangly fucker.”

Having said that, Sans just... grabbed it. He picked the spider up before it could run and held it in his enclosed fist like he was scooping up a penny he had dropped on the floor. Just like that, he moved across the room and pulled back the curtain, cracked the window open, stuck his arm out, and threw the spider out into the darkness.

He closed the window again. The air felt less heavy. He even tugged the handle to make sure the window was all properly sealed up, pulling the curtains closed again.

It took him all of fifteen seconds.

“all good.” He turned to you, grinning and showing you his open palms. No spider. “successfully evicted.”

...

You started crying again. 

Sans mumbled a soft ‘aw jeez’. He didn’t hesitate to cross the room, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug, ignoring your babbled apologies. 

“he really spooked ya, huh?” A gentle hand smoothed over your hair. He smelled like sweet hay, hours of sunshine, and something slightly musky. “how long were you tryna drum up the courage?”

“T-two hours,” you sobbed, muffled in his sweater.

You’d expected him to laugh at you. But he didn’t. He just held you, letting you cry out all the stress that had been building up over the course of the night. You were pretty sure this was the first time you had been hugged since before you left the city.

Eventually, you calmed yourself down, reducing to just hiccups. Sans didn’t let go until you did, allowing you to pull away, but keeping a steadying hand on your arm. 

“easy, pet.” His voice was so warm and soothing. “you’re all good.”

“Fucking... I’m just such a baby.” Your sleeves were damp from all of the tear wiping you were doing. You made an unattractive sniffling sound. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“cus i’m used to ‘em. also, i’m a skeleton, so i don’t gotta worry about being bitten. no shame in bein’ scared of the big ones.” 

Your voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry you came out all this way.”

“... did you think i’d be mad at you?” he asked, softly.

“M-mhm.”

“i really don’t mind bein’ yer bug removing hero." He patted his nonexistent bicep. "tell ya what, it makes me feel very big an’ tough.”

He had you giggling again. He always did. He seemed proud of himself- his presence was balm to your Soul right now. 

“I just... I get so scared at night.” Your cheeks were hot. “It’s so quiet, and dark. I feel like I’m the only person around for miles. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

"this?"

"Living out here."

“hey, i beg to differ. yer already doin’ so much better than most who move to these parts.”

You looked up at him. Why did that tiny bit of praise make your heart swell so much? You didn’t feel like you were doing ‘better’. You’d just called your nearest neighbour at 2 in the morning to come save you from a spider. “But I’m always asking for help.”

“exactly. you’re askin’. that’s the important part.” His eyelights were so warm. “that’s how we make it work, out here. we help each other.”

Goddamnit. You were gonna cry again. You just about managed to choke it down.

“... the animal noises also probably freak you out too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, hah.”

“if you don’t know what yer hearin’, it can be pretty scary.”

... You sniffled.

...

“... you’re shaking. d’ya want me to stay?”

How did he know? He always just seemed to know. You nodded, meekly. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and you knew the house would feel even colder and emptier once you’d known how it felt while you had company.

“Will Papyrus be worried?”

“he knew i was headin’ out to help ya. he’ll be fine.”

... You didn’t need to say out loud where you wanted Sans to sleep. Both of you knew.

The two of you finally took off your coats, and Sans turned off the lights. His forest-coloured eyelights were the only illumination in the room. As soon as he shuffled into bed beside you, you gratefully curled up against him, he was so calming and so warm. He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, his comforting smell soothing your shot nerves. 

“... Thank you.” Your voice was almost a whisper.

“yer really warm.” he hummed. “just so you know, i’m a bit of a snorer.”

You probably should’ve been more concerned, sharing a bed in a very secluded location with a guy you barely knew. But you didn’t have the energy for it. For the first time in a long time, you were warm, didn’t feel lonely, and weren’t worried at all about bugs. 

“I don’t mind.”

... It was the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.

[cuddl3s4shur1]

•𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Earth 42 Miles X Y/n

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎: Your boyfriened miles comes to your apartment . And the cuddle session got heated .

𝐀/𝐍: Tiktok bro , I don’t know what side I’m on , but I will like to stay on it , I didn’t do any Grammarly on this

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:It’s a little bit of spice , He’s liked at college age , HE IS AGED UP

You were laying in your bed trying to stop scrolling on tiktok and finally go to bed . Your thumb was starting to hurt and you started to nod off.

Your late night playlist was playing in the background. You slowly started to let the music sound take over your body . Causing you to feel emotions and tiredness. Resting your head on the pillow and shutting your eyes , a bright light stops the rest .

✨💗Mi Vida💗✨

-Come open the window

You where confused on why he was outside of your window. Not to mention it was late. You pull yourself from your bed dragging your feet to go open the window .

You make it the window using all your muscle from your tired body to left it open . He comes through the window with a bag in hand , you couldn’t tell what was in it .

“You know i have a door right “ you tell him as you start to yawn

“I don’t use those , Mamá, lo sabes.(Mommy, you know it.)“ he rolled his eyes and started to climb through the window .

“Looks like someone is tired “ he says seeing how you quickly go back to your bed and under the covers

“I am not “ you joke to him

“What are you doing up so late ,Una chica tratando de conseguir su descanso de belleza ( a girls trying to get her beauty rest) “ he looks at you

“Are you though, Deberías haber estado durmiendo, mi bella durmiente (you should’ve been sleeping my sleeping beauty )“ you roll your eyes

“Hey blame TikTok ,not to mention my music playlist in the background causing me to fall asleep based off the vibe “ you tell him

“Well I can see that , sorry about not being here earlier…” he tells you before going silent

“Work , was some pretty long hours today “ he tells you as he goes through the bag pulling out your favorite snacks .

“I was hoping we can catch up on are shows with a couple snacks “ he says shacking the bags a little you take the snacks and toss them on bag . He follows you to the bed and takes his shoes off before getting to comfortable.

You turn on the first show and start to get comfortable . Laying your head on miles chest , you start to hear his heart beat . It was fast , he was nervous around you . You giggled at the fact and continue to watch tv

Time and time would go by yet you were still awake , you both were surprised at you still being up .

As night would continue you guys woukd just lay on the bed vibing to the music .Miles would start to slowly flirt more and more to you . “You know baby can I make it up to you for missing the tv shows “ he asks you

. You nod as a response to his last statement

“nah baby words , I need words “ he tells you .

“Yes , yes you can-“ he cuts you off kissing you , one hand holds you waist why the other lays on your face .

Miles starts kissing your neck , leaving a mark on each place his lips touched you .

You wanted to tell him to stop because of classes and how you and miles where going to go see mama rio . But it felt so good . How his lips felt so soft when landed on your skin .

How his hands could have such a tight grip around your waist . You started to make slight noises so miles knew you enjoyed it .

The next day

Your phone started to go off with a noise , you where in deep sleep but it continued to ring . Causing you to wake up you awnser the phone .

“What “ you ask the person getting snappy not even looking at who it is .

“Watch it snappy , ¿Querías algo de Starbucks? (did you want any thing from Starbucks ) “ miles voice asks you

“A Carmel frappe please and thank you , mi vida ( my life ) “ you tell him you hang up the phone hoping you could go back to sleep .

You started to nod back off and place your head on the pillow . A knock sounds starts to come from the door . Who was it now , you thought to yourself.

You dragg yourself out of the bed wiping your eyes , and limping each step you take.You look down to see you where wearing miles shirt from yesterday .

You open the door to see your roommate queenie “ oh are you coming to class today “ she asks you .

She would observe your presence realizing how you where very tired , how she seen marks in your neck and how most likely you where limping . You pull the shirts neckline down to show her some of the hidden marks .

“Looks like someone had fun last night , I’ll see you on Monday then “ she laughs at first than fades .

You smile at her and then close the door and going back to your bed . You start to watch cartoons sense you know Theres no way of going back to sleep.

Soon enough you where right, miles would come with the Starbucks in hand . He would place the cup in your hand . Taking a sip you let out a sigh .

“You better help me cover these marks up because I can’t let mama rio see my like this “ you tell him .

“What ,No puedo hacerles saber cómo complazcan a mi bebé ( I can’t let them know how I please my baby ) .