#if anyone's got an additions lmk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

highvern · 18 days

Text

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #🫡 highvern

1K notes · View notes

pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Made for each other (crazy about you part 2)

Lo’ak x Omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: pure smut, possessive, delusional, violent lo’ak (and reader), attempted murder, mentions of suicide, mentions of killing in general, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking, spit kink, biting (a lot of blood at the end), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, oral, p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie. (Lmk If I miss something)

Addition warning: This fic follows the pattens of toxic relationships, so if this triggers you in any way, please do not continue.

Last warning⚠️: Lo’ak is extremely toxic in this. Please read at your own risk

🔞mdni🔞

It had been a year since you and lo’ak made it official, a year since he put you in your place. And the relationship was….toxic to say the least. You two had broken up and gotten back together so many times that you lost count. You were jealous and he was possessive, creating a recipe for disaster. You almost wished that you never even pursued him, maybe your life would be better without him in it. You wouldn’t dare tell him that though.

He told you that he would kill you if you tried to leave him for good, and apart of you believed him. You were becoming scared of lo’ak, scared that he might do something unspeakable, all for you. And it showed in his daily actions; the way he would linger around, watching your every move. Threatening any man that got to close to you, similar to the situation that transpired today:

“Bring your little ass here, right now! I’m sick of chasing you!” He growled, whipping through the trees as he followed your small frame.“NO! Why did you have to punch him?” You yelled, stomping away from him.

“He was too fucking close, y/n. Too close to what’s mine.” He growled, smacking leaves out of his path as he kept his pace behind you. “He’s didn’t even touch me!” You screamed, storming through the trees to get away from him.

“I’m a man! I know what the fuck he was thinking. Maybe I should just lock you up, huh? So no one can see you!” He chuckled angrily, speeding up his pace behind you.

“Ughhh! I hate you!!!” You screamed, hissing at him loudly, tail swaying in anger.

“I hate you too!” He roared, running towards you. He caught up quickly, yanking your arm harshly, turning you towards him.

“Let me go, idiot!” You shouted, trying to yank yourself out of his grasp, to no avail. He gripped your other arm, lifting you off the ground.

“No! You’re mine! Did you fucking forget?” He growled, shaking your small frame with every word. You hissed, struggling to get him off of you.

“Put me down, lo’ak! You’re hurting me!” You whined, making his gaze soften slightly, before he dropped you down to the ground.

You fell onto your back, instantly trying to crawl away from him. He grabbed your tail, pulling you back, before flipping you around. He straddled your lap, placing both of his large hands around your neck.

“You think you can leave me, y/n? HUH? I’ll never let you go!” He roared, squeezing your neck tightly, to the point where you couldn’t breathe all that well. “L-Lo’ak, y-you’re choking me!” You strained, tapping his forearm repeatedly. However, he didn’t let up.

“I’d rather see you dead than with someone else! I can’t see you with anyone else, y/n!” He yelled, voice becoming shaky as his emotions got the best of him. Tears flooding his eyes, loosening his grip on your neck slightly. Just enough for you to gasp loudly, regaining your breath.

He slowly crumbled, falling onto you as he weeped like a child. You cried too, looking into the sky. The situation that you put yourself in made you emotional. Deep down, you knew this was your karma for stalking him all these years. You blamed yourself for this. You just wanted out, but he couldn’t seem to let you go.

“P-please, baby! Please don’t fucking leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cried in your chest, punching the ground in frustration, causing you to flinch. He shot up, looking into your terrified eyes.

“B-Baby, I don’t mean to scare you. You know that right? I’ll do anything to make you love me again! ANYTHING! J-just give me another chance. I’ll be good for you this time. I-I won’t yell, or hit anybody anymore. I-I promise, please!” He rambled, crying as he caressed your tear stained cheek.

Lo’ak was draining you from the inside out. You regretted everything about your relationship with him. You truly wished that you could go back to the beginning, when he wanted nothing to do with you. But because you couldn’t turn back time, there was just something in you that didn’t want to let him go. Maybe it was his “bad boy” tendencies, or his protectiveness, his sex….you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. As many times as you tried to be strong, tried to end it, he always found a way to suck you back in, and today was no different.

“Lo’ak, please. I-i can’t do this anymore. Just let me go, please let me go…” you whimpered, shaking your head from side to side in exhaustion.

“You know I can’t do that, don’t make me do that, please! I promise I’ll change for you. I’ll calm down!” He whined, sliding his hand down to your loincloth. You shook your head again, so tired of the same old song he sang. He’d treat you like shit, get aggressive with you, apologize, and then fuck you until you felt better. And you let him. You’d let him fuck you until you forgot about the argument because deep down, you enjoyed this little game you played with him. You were just as sick as he was, just as delusional. You two were made for eachother.

“Let me make it better, ok? Daddy’s gonna make it better.” He spoke lowly, pecking your lips, tasting your salty tears as he slid his hand in your loincloth, rubbing circles into your clit. You moaned into his mouth, falling into his trance again. He slid a finger inside of you, pumping in and out at a slow pace, just how you liked it. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew how to please you.

“Mmm shit..” you whimpered, tears still streaming down your face. “It’s ok, baby. Don’t cry. I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered, kissing down your body until he reached your loincloth, pulling it down with his teeth.

“Lo’ak, I-im breaking up with you.” You cried, knowing that you didn’t even believe yourself. Knowing that after this, you would walk out of the forest with him, hand in hand.

“Don’t say that, mama. I’d kill you if you left me. Matter of fact, I’d kill myself. Is that what you want?” He spoke lowly, attaching his mouth to your cunt, French kissing it slowly as he glared into your puffy eyes. He grabbed your legs, pulling them over his shoulders as he caressed your thighs.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as your dainty hand connected to the back of his head. “Yes, baby. Open up to me!” He moaned, flicking his tongue against you clit. He trailed his hand up to your top, untying it gently.

“Lo’ak, please. w-we aren’t good for eachother.” You grunted while caressing his head softly, allowing him to pull you back into his toxic embrace.

“Stop saying that! You know I’m the best thing for you.” He growled, giving your clit one last flick before kissing your thigh. He flipped you over on your stomach before laying flat on top of you. He ripped his loincloth off, throwing it to the side. He grabbed his cock, sliding into you gently.

“Let me show you how much I love you, y/n. I’ll be good for you, I promise baby.” He spoke softly in your ear, thrusting into you slowly. You bit your lip, grabbing his large hands to hold them close to your heart. He sped up the pace, going deeper than he ever has.

You never truly believed him when he said he’d change. But he was so gentle with you today, solely focused on how you were feeling. It made you feel like he was capable of change, capable of being the man you knew he could be for you.

“Please, don’t stop!” You whined, throwing your head down to the moss. He kissed the back of your neck, still thrusting into you at a steady pace.

“I’ll never stop, y/n. I’ll never leave you alone, baby. You’re mine, ok?” He moaned in your ear before tugging on it with his canines. With you being a delusional mess for him, you nodded frantically.

“Yes, I’m yours! I’ll always be yours.” You whined, kissing his hand as tears blurred your vision. “Do you love me? Huh? Tell me you love me, and that you’ll never leave me.” He spoke lowly, his hot breath breezing past your ear. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach building up, in turn, making you submit to him, as you always have.

“Yes, lo’ak! I-i love you so much, I-I’ll n-ever leave you, baby!” You stuttered, holding his hands tightly as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, repeatedly. He let out a loud moan, thrusting into you harder to catch his high.

“Oh, baby! Please keep talking to me like that! Im gonna fucking cum!” He grunted in your ear before giving it a small peck. You loved when he became a complete mess for you, it turned you on and today was no different. “Mmmm, fuuuuck lo’ak! I-i dont know what I would do without you baby! I need you so bad!”

You whined loudly. You closed your eyes tightly, squeezing his hands in yours when you felt your high approaching quickly.

“Mhmm what else, mama?! Come on, t-talk to Me. Im almost there!” He whimpered, squeezing your hands as well, shutting his eyes tightly as his face screwed in pleasure.

“y-you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Me. I-I would never give you up!” You whimpered, shaking your head to confirm your previous statement. He purred in your ear, before losing it completely.

“Fuck! *thrust* Fuck! *thrust* Fuck! *thrust*”

He moaned before coming undone inside of you, painting your walls with his seed. Yet and still, He kept a steady pace just for you, making sure you were taken care of. You felt the knot in your stomach coming undone, convulsing under his whimpering and moaning figure.

“Shiiit! Cumming!!” You screamed as your juices merged with his, coating his cock with every deep thrust.

“Goooood girl, baby! Such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you?” He whispered in Your ear, thrusting into you slowly as he rode out his high, also helping you ride out yours.

“Fuuuck yes! yes! I’m a good girl, just for you!” You moaned, letting out a sigh of relief, along with lo’ak. You were hoping that he meant everything he said about changing for you, so that you two could start fresh. But, just like the other times, he lied.

He continued to be possessive and aggressive. He would stalk, and watch your every move, watch for other men who could drive a wedge in between you two. All the while, still finding time to flirt with the other girls in the clan. Although you didn’t have solid proof of cheating, you had a feeling, and that’s all you needed. He would leave the hut early and come in late at night. And when you questioned him, the conversation always went alittle something like this:

“What? You don’t trust me?” Lo’ak would say, barely above a whisper. His ears flat, as he held his tail in his hand. Your gaze would soften, seeing his sad demeanor.

“n-no lo’ak, I do trust you!” You would nod frantically, caressing his biceps as you planted soft kisses across his chest.

“I thought we had something different, y/n. I thought YOU were different.” He would speak softly, shaking his head at you with disappointment before trying to leave. You would pull him back, willing to do anything to keep him right where he was. And it was an endless cycle for the two of you. If he wasn’t manipulating you, you were micromanaging him, making sure that nothing could hide under your nose. However, it didn’t seem like lo’ak cared that much. He would flirt with girls in-front of you, and today was no different.

Everyone shuffled around the common area, doing their daily chores. If lo’ak wasn’t stalking you, you were stalking him, watching his every move as he held long conversations with the other females.

Today, he decided to make conversation with Malina, who so happened to hate your guts. And vice versa. What made you mad was that lo’ak knew about your hatred towards her, and she knew that lo’ak was yours. Your blood boiled as you watched them laugh, and joke with eachother. You stalked from the trees, squeezing your bow tightly.

How could he? Any other girl but her! Why would he do this? Knowing the relationship you had with Malina?

You were furious, tail swooshing behind you in defense as you huffed with every breath. They could both die for all you cared, but more so Malina. She had the nerve to talk to lo’ak, knowing he belonged to you. You thought maybe you should just get rid of her, so she could leave him alone. So you wouldn’t have to worry about her.

All of theses thoughts ran through your head as you stood tall, drawing your bow back as you aimed it at Malina’s temple. You saw Malina raise a hand, running it down lo’aks bicep. And that was all the motivation you needed to take her fucking head off. You released the bow, watching it fly directly towards Malinda, just for it to hit the tree bark just inches above her head.

She screamed, ducking all the way down. Lo’ak jumped, stepping back from Malina slightly before looking around the forest in alertness. He had a feeling, but he didn’t want to believe it. However, he knew you all too well, and wouldn’t put this past you. Shit, he would do it too.

You cursed internally, disappointed in yourself for not putting a whole through her head. You shook your head in defeat, stepping out of the trees slowly. Lo’ak chuckled, throwing his head down as he shook it all-knowingly.

“Y/n, what the fuck!” Malina screamed in disbelief, standing to her full height. She looked at the bow sticking out of the bark, before slowly turning to you with wide eyes.

“Malina, I’m so sorry! My aim is so off today! I meant to kill you. Silly me!” You confessed with a sarcastic tone, grinning from ear to ear. Lo’ak bit his lip in anger, shooting you the scariest glare before turning to a flabbergasted Malina.

“I am so sorry for my girlfriend. She didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear what he was saying on your behalf.

“Oh, I meant it. Wish it would’ve went through that pretty little head, too.” You scoffed, glaring at malina. Lo’ak shut his eyes in frustration, clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath, darting over to you. He grabbed you by your hair, dragging you to your shared hut.

“What the fuck was that about, mama?” Lo’ak huffed in anger, slamming the hut door behind him. Coming face to face with you.

“You two were talking for too long, so I just ended the conversation early.” You spoke softly, crossing your arms as you glared up at him. He grinned, pulling you closer to him by your neck.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” He said in his melodic tone, staring down at you with nothing but lust. He liked when you were jealous now that he found himself being completely obsessed with you. He also liked how quick you were to kill that girl, all for him.

“And you’re not? Threatening to kill me if I left you, but you do shit like this. Flirting with any girl that’ll give you the time of day. You’re fucking sick. You make me crazy, it’s all your fault!” You spat in a low tone, heat radiating off of your body in anger. He licked his lips, backing you into the wall harshly.

“Oh, I’m sick? But how did we get here?” He asked with a cocked brow, tilting his head in confusion.

“I told you in the beginning, that we wouldn’t work together. But you wouldn’t fucking listen. You just couldn’t take no for an answer. So I gave in, and now I’m stuck. I’ll never let you go. And I will kill you if you try to leave me. That’s not a threat, it’s a fucking promise. Play and see what happens.” He growled, pulling you closer to him by the grip he had on your neck.

“I can’t fucking stand you. I’ve had enough of your stupid game. I don’t wanna play anymore. I QUIT!” You shouted, pushing him away. You started to walk off but he snatched you back by your queue, pinning it on the wall. You hissed at him, trying to push him away to no avail.

“You’re done when I SAY you’re done. And I wanna keep playing.” He growled, holding your dainty wrists in one of his large hands. You shook your head wearily, so fucking tired of his games. He was draining you of everything, like a leech. Your emotions got the best of you, as your eyes started to water, blurring your vision completely.

He watched you on the verge of breaking down, and his gaze softened. He let your wrists go, finally understanding the severity of the situation. You leaned your head on his chest in exhaustion, feeling so sick that the thought of standing was making you tired. Lo’ak grabbed you in his arms, stopping your movements as he tried to keep you upright.

“Y/n, c-come on baby. Don’t do this.” He grunted, watching your body shake from your constant wailing. “No! w-why do you d- do this to me?!! You’re killing me, lo’ak! I-i can’t!” You cried, punching his chest weakly. You weeped, burying your head in his chest.

“Y/n- i-I’m sorry, please. I-it’ll never happen again! I’ll stop talking to her. I’ll never talk to her again. I’ll kill her if she comes near me, I only want you!” He rambled, as he always did when you threatened to leave him. You shook your head lazily, placing your fists on his chest.

“You always say that. Yet here we are! And here I am, looking stupid for staying with you.” You whimpered, leaning your head on the wall, looking into his teary eyes. He shook his head frantically, terrified at the thought of you leaving him, and him having to do the unthinkable to you.

“No, no, no! Please! I’ll change, y/n! I can’t live without you! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t wanna lose you, I CANT LOSE YOU!” He confessed, voice cracking from his sadness.

“Then SHOW ME! Show me you don’t wanna lose me!” You shouted, looking into his puffy eyes as tears fell from your face.

“You want me to show you? I’ll show you!” He growled, picking you up by your thighs, connecting his lips to yours, and like always, he sucked you in again. You grabbed the back of his head, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed your body.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, loosening the knot in his loincloth. It fell to his feet, allowing his cock to spring up in between the two of you. You took it in your hand, stroking the beads of precum out of his pulsing tip. He moaned in your mouth, bucking his hips into your hand. He slid a hand down to your loincloth, completely ripping it off of your hips, deeming it unwearable.

“You know I love you, right?” He spoke lowly in your ear, planting wet kisses on your neck. You really couldn’t tell anymore. The way he made you feel on a regular basis was unbearable, but the way he made it up to you was….unmatched. And you knew deep down that you would never find anyone that could hold a candle to the way lo’ak handled you.

“y-yes, I know!” You moaned, pushing your soaked cunt to his throbbing cock, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders.

“Just make it up to me. I-I need it, lo’ak!” You whined, bringing his cock up to your cunt, using the tip to massage your clit.

“You can have it, baby. It’s all yours, I swear. No one else’s.” He grunted, sliding into you with ease. You both let out a series of moans as he thrusted into you slowly. Still kissing your neck, placing a hand on the wall, next to your head.You clung to him, laying your head on his shoulder as you whined with every slow thrust.

“I-I need you to know that i would NEVER cheat on you. No other girl c-could ever make me feel the way you do, y/n. I’m crazy about you…” He whimpered, gnawing at your neck, biting down until he drew blood. You winced at the mix of pain and pleasure. He quickly licked the womb clean, speeding up his pace inside of you.

You would be lying if you said he wasn’t convincing. Especially when he would wait until he’s drilling into you to confess his love. It was such a manipulative move on his part. How could you even question him in the middle of him fucking you how he did? You couldn’t, and that was his plan.

“I-I know, lo’ak! Just keep fucking me like this, please don’t stop!” You moaned, leaning back on the wall, throwing your head back in pure bliss. He deemed this the perfect opportunity to nuzzle his head into your exposed chest, leaving his scent on your body. He purred into your chest, tail wrapping around your back. He slowly trailed his eyes to yours, planting a kiss on your quivering lips.

“I wont stop, baby. You like when I fuck you like this, huh? Tell me how good it feels.” He whispered, thrusting into you one hard time before rolling his hips into your sweetspot. You screamed loudly, digging your fingernails into his biceps. Your face screwed in pleasure, shaking your head from side to side in pleasure. “Come on baby, look at me!” He pouted smacking your face a couple of times before snaking his hand up to your neck, using it to focus your attention on him. Your eyes finally locked as he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. The room fell silent for a moment, as you both indulged in the squelching sounds with every stroke, looking deep into each others eyes.

“You make me feel soooo *thrust* fucking *thrust* good *thrust*.” You screamed, breaking the silence as tears welled in your eyes. He nodded in agreement, kissing your lips once more, muffling your cries for a moment.

“You m-make me -ngh!- feel good too, baby. I’m so fucking in love with you!” He growled through gritted teeth, shaking your neck with every syllable. He sped up his pace, making your jaw drop as you felt that knot in your stomach tightening.

“Yeeess, baby! Juuuust like that! Let go for daddy.” He nodded, biting his lip as your walls fluttered around his cock. A tear fell down you cheek as you convulsed in his arms.

“Daddy’s sorry, baby! I’m sooo sorry!” He spoke softly, kissing your bottom lip as your eyes rolled back. And just like that, you came undone on him. Every stroke revealing his cream coated cock.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you? I’m almost there baby.” He moaned, throwing his head back as he used your hips to rut into you, chasing his orgasm. You whimpered, as he brushed against your sensitive sweetspot with every stroke.

“Shiiit, I’m cumming baby!” He whined, leaning his head on your shoulder, burying his seed deep inside of you. “Oh, yesss lo’ak!” You moaned breathily, scratching his back up as he thrusted into you slowly, riding out his high. And just like that, he had you again. Wrapped around his finger, just how he liked it.

And as always, he fed you a bunch of BS. Although he stopped talking to other girls, the obsession and possessive behavior grew stronger. There were times where he wouldn’t even let you out of his sight; dragging you around with him everywhere. Anytime a male even looked at you for a second too long, he would lash out at them. Soon, everyone knew to stay clear of you, scared of what lo’ak would do if he saw you with another.

This caused loneliness, and you resented him for it. The only other male you could somewhat talk to was Neteyam. And lo’ak had a problem with that most of the time.

You mainly went to Neteyam for advice on your relationship. And he always spoke the truth to you. Telling you that it would be best if you stayed clear of lo’ak. And boy, did that make lo’ak mad.

“Y/n, I hate seeing you like this. It’s like he’s locked you in this hut. You need to dead his ass.” Neteyam explained, leaning on the hut wall as you sat on the cot across from him.

“Teyam, I can’t leave him. Do you know how many times he’s threatened to kill me? Kill himself? Plus….I love him.” You spoke, gesturing softly. Neteyam sighed in frustration at you, as you sat infront of him singing the same old song.

“He would never. I wouldn’t let him. And, he’s way too scared of my dad. He’s not fucking stupid. Crazy? Yes….but stupid? Nah.” Neteyam shook his head, crossing his arms with a light chuckle.

“You don’t understand. You don’t hear the conversations we have. I just….can’t leave him.”You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest.

“He treats you like shit. Locking you up from the outside world. Don’t you think that’s alittle fucking toxic? Are you scared of him?” He asked, the last part echoing in your mind.

Were you scared of him?

You were scared of what he was capable of, but deep down, you knew lo’ak. And you knew his intentions were good. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and that he would protect you. How could you be scared of your protector? Right?

“What’s there to be scared of?” A familiar voice said from the entrance of the hut, catching you and neteyam’s attention. It was non other than your smothering boyfriend, leaning against the door frame.

“Last time I checked, you set us up. Now you’re trying to break us apart? What, so you can have her to yourself?” Lo’ak spoke angrily, walking towards Neteyam. Neteyam stood up straight, assuming a position of dominance against his younger brother. Your heart pounded, watching the two brothers meet half with aggressive demeanors.

“I wish I knew you would treat her this way. Then I wouldn’t have set her up with your psycho ass.” Neteyam growled, getting in lo’aks visibly angry face.

“And if I find out you’ve threatened her again, I’ll kill YOU. How about that?” He growled, poking lo’aks chest. Lo’ak tilted his head in anger, tail swaying high in aggression. You panicked, shuffling off of the cot to stand in between them. Both of the men towering over your small frame as they eyed each other with so much hatred. You couldn’t help but think this was all your fault.

“Please… d-dont do this. Don’t fight.” You whispered wearily, getting choked up by your own tears as you shift your attention in between both brothers. They completely ignored you, still staring each-other down.“Neteyam, j-just go. I’m fine, really.” You grabbed his arms, shaking him to get his attention.

“Yeah, you should go Neteyam. Y/n and I need to….talk.” Lo’ak grinned, wrapping his arms around your shoulders lightly, pulling you flush to his chest.

Neteyam hissed at lo’ak before meeting your soft gaze. “If I see so much as a scratch on her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” Neteyam spoke deeply, bumping lo’aks shoulder as he walked out of the hut, shutting the door behind him.

There was an awkward silence as he swayed you back and forth, before he broke it. “Why do you test me, y/n?” He asked calmly, slowly squeezing his arms together around your neck.“L-Lo’ak I- I’m sorry.” You apologized, not even knowing the reason why. You held onto his arms, trying to loosen his grip around your neck.

“Nah, don’t apologize now. All you ever do is is try to leaving me. Telling me that you want to break up with me.” His voice grew angrier, making you nervous. He spun you around in one fell swoop, walking you back into the wall by your neck, slamming you into it.

“What the fuck do you want me to do, huh? WHAT THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE NOT GOING NO FUCKING WHERE!” He growled, shaking your neck with every word. You had never seen him this angry before, and it made you tremble under his grasp.

“I-I UNDERSTAND! LO’AK I LOVE YOU!” You whimpered, voice shaky as tears flooded your vision. He shook his head, loosening his grip on your neck.

“Stop saying that! You don’t fucking mean it! You try to leave me every chance you get. And I do whatever I can to make you stay, make you love me. But I’m not enough for you. And everyone thinks I’m bad news, influencing you to believe the same! I’ve tried everything with you. I’ve apologized numerous times, I’ve stopped talking to other girls like you asked me to, but nothing is enough for you. Guess I’ve just gotta fuck you until you get it. Until EVERYONE gets it. You are MINE goddamit!” He roared, nothing but rage in his golden eyes as he punched the hut wall, creating a gaping whole in the foundation. He grabbed your hair, yanking you towards the cot before throwing you onto it.

“Lo’ak please!” You begged as he flipped you over on you stomach. “No, fuck that! I’m gonna show your little ass! Show you who the fuck you belong to.” He growled, all while tying your hands up with his hair tie. He tore your loincloth off, throwing it to the side.

“Lo’ak! I know I belong to you! I know I’m YOURS!” You shouted, looking back at him, only to see his hand raised to the heavens, coming down on your ass so hard that it left a handprint. You yelped in pain, squirming under him.

“What did I tell you, huh? Who do you belong to?!” He yelled, spanking you hard at a constant pace. “Lo’ak, MERCY!!” You screamed, tears tricking down your cheeks with every harsh blink.

“ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!” He roared, holding your wrists in place as he continued your punishment. “YOU- I BELONG TO YOU, BABY!” You whimpered, trying desperately to crawl from under him.

“I don’t believe you yet, mama…” he growled, pulling you up by your hair, before biting down on your neck, marking you as his. The blood flowed down your shoulder, dripping onto the cot. You hissed, feeling your neck throb from the open womb.

“YOU. ARE. MINE! Do you understand?!” He spoke through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hair. “Yes, lo’ak! I fucking get it!” You shouted in anger. He chuckled, kissing your cheek as he untied his loincloth with one hand, throwing it across the room.

“There’s my girl! I love making you mad. Gives me a reason to fuck you like a whore, just to straighten you out.” He whispered in your ear before kissing it.

He lined his cock up with your entrance, plunging into you deep. He pulled your hips up to meet his pelvis before he started rutting into you hard and steady. He gripped your long ponytail, wrapping it around his forearm to pull you up. Every thrust causing droplets of blood to fall beneath you.

“Say my fucking name, baby.” He spoke in a low and calm voice, smacking your bruised ass. Sending shock waves through your entire body.

“Looo’aaaak!” You whined, taking your lip in between your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly. He opened his mouth, letting spit drip down to where you were both connected before throwing his head back in pure bliss.

“This pussy is driving me crazy, baby!” He spoke sensually, thrusting into you faster. “Mmmm! you fuck me soooo good. I can’t get enough of you!” You moaned, smiling deliriously as your lower abdomen tightened.

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, y/n!” He moaned, shaking his head before planting a soft kiss on your womb, coating his lips with your blood. He tugged on your hair, bringing your neck all the way back to kiss your lips passionately. The copper taste of your blood consuming you, before he pulled away.

“I’m obsessed with you too! No one can take your place! I-I’m so sorry daddy!” You whined, tears flowing down your cheeks from the immense amount of pleasure. Lo’ak groaned at your sweet words, feeling that familiar knot build in his stomach.

“No, no! I’m sorry, mama! I’ve b-been a fucking idiot.” He moaned, biting his lip as he admired your position. Your whines and moans got louder and louder as your peak neared.

“Go on and cum for daddy. I’m right behind you.” He spoke deeply, smacking your ass as he licked his lips. And that was all you needed, twitching under him as you came undone.“Yeeesss!” You screamed, screwing your face in pleasure as your eyes fell shut.

“Mmm! fuck! *thrust* fuck! *thrust* fuck! *thrust*” lo’ak grunted, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he painted your walls. He thrusted into you slowly, riding out his high.

“Untie me.” You moaned, trying to rip your way out of the restraints. “Why? So you can run away?” He chuckled deliriously, reminiscing on his first time with you.

“I just wanna fuck you so bad. Let me, please? I won’t leave. I’ll never leave.” You shook your head in reassurance. He bit his lip before tugging on the restraint, untying it from around your wrists. And immediately, you rose up from your position, pulling him down before you hopped on top of him, straddling his lap.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding, huh? You want this dick? Take it!” He grinned, plunging his cock into you. Both of you letting out a series of moans.

You watched his face screw in pleasure as you began to ride him. He threw his head back, exposing his neck. You weren’t one for marking but something came over you as you flashed your fangs, bending down to sink them into his neck, drawing blood. He hissed from the pain and pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. He watched you sit up slowly, blood dripping down your mouth and chest as you looked at him with nothing but lust.

“You are so fucking hot.” He muttered through gritted teeth, reaching up to rip your top off with harsh force, revealing your huge breasts. His blood mixing with yours, dripping down your breasts with each bounce to his lap.“Yeah, I know. And it’s all for you. I’m all yours!” You moaned, using his shoulders to bounce on him harder.

“Comere.” He spoke sensually, grabbing your neck to bring you down to his lips, indulging in a heated kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance as they danced around eachother. You pulled away, hovering over his lips.

“Open.” You commanded, and he obliged. You let a line of spit flow into his mouth as he swallowed it happily, bringing you in for another kiss. He thrusted up into you, causing you to moan loudly against his lips before he pulled away.

“I love you.” He whispered, gripping your ass to guide you down onto him. “I love you too.” You moaned before taking your lip in between your teeth, staring deep into his eyes.

“I’d really kill you if you left me. I fucking mean it.” He muttered with a clenched jaw, tightening his grip on your neck. You giggled deliriously with a weak grin.

“I know, daddy. I’d kill you if you left me. y-you know I’m good for it.” You spoke seductively in his ear before kitty licking it once, sending chills down his spine.

“Mmm, daddy’s little monster, huh?” He groaned, feeling his high slowly approaching him. You nodded with the same delirious smile, sitting up on him to speed up the pace. Your moans got louder as your abdomen got tighter, getting that familiar feeling again.

“d-daddy I’m gonna cum!” You whined, pouting at him with your puffy eyes. He nodded, gripping your hips again, using them to fuck into you just right.

“Come on baby, give it to me. Show me how much you love this dick.” He spoke lowly, watching your eyes roll back as you started to tremble on top of him. And just like that, you came undone again, coating his cock with your juices.

“Mmm, fuuuck! I’m about to cum in this pussy baby!” He moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, releasing inside of you once more. Both of you letting out breathless moans as you came down from your highs. He looked up at you, pulling you down to him by your hair to bring you in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away, staring you in the eyes before speaking.

“Never forget who you belong to…”

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly

849 notes · View notes

red-dead-sakharine · 6 months

Text

Raphael defeated Ketheric by using Yurgir

idk if this is common knowledge or not, but I puzzled it together only yesterday because I always missed a crucial NPC to see the whole picture. So here it is:

From the architect of Moonrise towers - the Infernal Mason you encounter in the House of Hope - you learn that:

Ketheric at some point, after the death of his wife, forsook Selûne and became a Shar worshipper. He had an army that he sent to war, to spread the darkness.

The architect saw his master's evil and made a deal with Raphael: His soul, for the destruction of Ketheric's army.

Raphael kept his word, and Ketheric's forces were destroyed by fiends.

Now, from the Elder Rothé near the Grymforge waypoint you learn that:

Ketheric's army consisted of Dark Justiciars.

A "hellbeast came with the mask-men" and destroyed the army.

And of course we know that Yurgir is trapped in the temple of Shar because his contract forces him to kill all Dark Justiciars.

So now, you know why:

The Architect made a deal with Raphael to stop Ketheric's army of Dark Justiciars.

Raphael contracted Yurgir (who brought his Merigons) to fulfil his own side of the contract.

Yurgir destroyed the army, but because one Dark Justiciar escaped with Raphael's help, he got trapped.

Why trap Yurgir?

We don't really know - unless I've yet to find it. We do know Raphael considers Yurgir dangerous, so it could be simply security. Trapping a dangerous asset, until it's needed again. He clearly had plans, since he makes Yurgir commander for presumably the conquest of the hells.

Why help Lyrthindor hide?

To trap Yurgir, but also

Yurgir claims that Raphael mentioned an aasimar

Theory: Raphael might have known, that only a Sharran/Dark Justiciar can kill the Nightsong. So he kept one alive, in case he ever has to kill her.

Why though? He probably knew Ketheric was kept immortal by the Nightsong, so the question would be: Why did Raphael want to keep Ketheric alive? Did he see this entire dead three plot coming? I wouldn't put it past him.

I shall keep investigating, and update this post as I learn more. If anyone has more info, please lmk!

Additional musings:

Why does Yurgir have Raphael's boots??

👉 more on Raphael being a bard

#bg3 #raphael #baldur's gate 3 #yurgir #ketheric #raphael has been playing 4D lanceboard for a LONG time #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #rds

390 notes · View notes

floreads · 9 months

Text

baby blues • carmen berzatto x reader

pair: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

synopsis: sugar's childhood best friend throws her baby shower, and is reintroduced to carmy.

a/n: while researching the character ages for this piece i discovered that nothing really makes sense timeline wise for the siblings’ ages, so just for the sake of this fic i decided that carmy is 28, reader is 29, and sugar is 31 <3 also i did not proof read this lmao so sry for any mistakes !

warnings: anxiety/panic attack, lots of swearing lmao, mentions of hooking up but nothing explicit, lmk if i missed anything else <3

word count: 3.2k

"Okay - yo, be careful with the cake!" You run - or wobble, as quickly as your heels will let you - over to the dessert table, pulling your dress down as you go. Running the show in this outfit wasn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t have time to go home and change before the event is set to start. The venue staff wouldn’t let you come in any earlier than 1:00 PM to get everything ready, despite your numerous pleas.

The two-tiered dessert wobbles slightly, as Richie and his colleague from the yet-unopened The Bear restaurant make the short but dangerous trek from the venue door to the row of long tables.

"Relax, Y/N, we got it," Richie waves you away. "Marcus here is a professional." They place the cake slowly, but precisely, onto its display stand.

"It's not him I'm worried about," you give him a playful squint. "Everything has to be perfect for Sugar. She deals with enough, having to see your ugly ol' mug every day."

You turn away from him before he can fire back, and greet Marcus with a quick nod. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marcus. Beautiful work on the cake."

He smiles back at you. "Of course, only the best for Sugar's baby."

That's all you wanted - the best for Sugar's baby. That's why you took it upon yourself to plan Sugar's baby shower. It's something you'd been planning basically your entire lives - ever since you two were old enough to steal your moms’ magazines during sleepovers. You two had planned your entire lives out together, and though the details have shifted over the years, there was one constant through it all: you’d always have each other.

Growing up, you and Sugar were virtually inseparable despite her being a few years older than you. Wherever one went, the other was soon to follow, like a shadow. You never really got along with your own parents, and as the only girl in her family, Natalie welcomed additional the feminine energy. Gone were the days of Mikey and Carmy ganging up on her when you were around. It was, and still is, you and Natalie against the world.

You glance at your watch with an impatient sigh. 2:36 PM. You have less than half an hour before all of the guests arrive, and 54 minutes until Pete arrives with Sugar. You've been there for the last hour and a half getting everything ready for Sugar and her unborn baby, and yet there was one thing missing. Carmen Berzatto hasn't come with the food yet.

"Does anyone know where the fuck Carmen is?" you ask, not to anyone in particular.

As if he was waiting for his cue, Carmy barrels through the door right then, breathing as if he’d just run the mile in gym class. Two women you have yet to meet, presumably from his restaurant that you’ve heard so much about, are right on his heels, helping him wheel in a cart full of food trays and serving utensils.

“Fuckin’ finally. It’s nice of you to join us, Carmen.” You exaggeratedly throw your hands up, walking over to him. This was not the reunion you’d hoped for after not seeing Carmy in years, after what you’d dubbed the incident - one that not even Nat knows about.

“Finally? We’re only,” he checks his watch, “ten minutes late.”

“Ten minutes?! Try an hour and ten minutes,” you scoff, looking at him incredulously.

His eyes widen, and you are slightly taken aback by just how blue they are, though you don’t know how you could’ve forgotten. His face reddens and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the intensity of your gaze or his embarrassment at being late. Before you can think too much into it, he’s turning to look at Richie.

“What the fuck, Cousin, you told me she said 2:30.”

Richie turns to you. “I thought that’s what you told me to say!”

The biggest sigh, possibly of all time, leaves your body and you cover your face. “No, Richie, I told you to tell him to be here by 1:30.”

“You know, I seriously fuckin’ doubt you said that, but maybe next time you should just call him yourself.” Richie counters.

“God fuckin’ forbid I accept help when you offer it! But don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson, ya fuckin’ jagoff,” your teenage accent comes out for a second, as always ends up happening when you argue with Richie.

Carmy, who knows the way you and Richie fight all too well after witnessing it through your teenage years, steps in between you two. “Alright, alright, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter who said what anymore. What matters is we’re here now and I need to set up this food ASAP.” He turns, giving you his full attention. “Y/N, where can we put this food?”

You send Richie one final glare before turning and leading Carmy to two long tables at the front of the room. “You’ve got these tables right over here. The venue gave us some food warmers, I’m sure you can figure out how to set those up better than I can. Be fast, Berzatto, we’ve got less than an hour before Sugar gets here and if anything is out of place, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.”

“Heard, Red.” He gives you a curt nod and moves to grab one of the trays of food before pausing so slightly that you know no one noticed - no one but you. He recovers quickly though, and it’s as if nothing happened.

Your pause, however, is much more notable. No one has called you Red since Mikey died. Though the nickname was just the result of an unfortunate at home, box hair dye job at 15 (you were experimenting with your look - they can’t all be winners, okay?), it solidified you as an unofficial member of the Berzatto clan.

“U-um, I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” you stammer out, busying your hands with your phone to hide their trembles. As if she can feel your discomfort, the girl with the long braids tucked into a scarf walks forward, between you and Carmy, and offers you her hand to shake.

“I’m Sydney, by the way, Carmy’s CDC at The Bear,” she smiles. “And this is Tina, my sous,” she gestures to the smaller, but older woman next to her.

You take her hand and introduce yourself, mentally berating yourself for not introducing yourself earlier. It’s not like you to be so rude - the stress of planning and executing a surprise baby shower for your best friend paired with the unnerving feeling of seeing Carmy for the first time since Natalie’s wedding must be getting to you. It may not be your place, but you’re still a little mad at him for skipping out on Mikey’s funeral and dropping contact with you altogether.

“I’m sorry! I swear, I’m usually not this all over the place. This whole thing’s got me goin’ a little crazy,” you gesture around the room. “Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to get over to The Bear - it’s all Sugar’s been able to talk about lately. Besides the baby, of course. I was outta town for friends and family night - visiting my grandparents.” This was a lie - if Carmy was going to ignore you, then you were going to ignore him. Though, you know you’ll end up in the establishment one of these days now that Sugar is so involved.

“Well, I’m sure Carmy and Natalie would love to have you in one of these days.”

Your eyes flit to Carmen while you give Sydney a tightlipped smile and nod. You try not to let the awkwardness between you and Carmy show when your eyes meet. While you’d normally make some snide remark about how Carmy doesn’t have room for you in his life anymore, you remind yourself that today is about Sugar - not whatever problems you have with her younger brother.

You take a deep breath and clap your hands together, wearing the kind of artificial smile that only the cheerleading protagonist of an early aughts teen drama would give. “Maybe someday!”

Sydney and Tina exchange a look that you pretend not to notice.

“Well, I’ll just leave you guys to it then! The guests will be here any minute, so I’m gonna do one last walkthrough. Everything’s gotta be perfect,” you mumble the last part to yourself.

3:27

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, eyes bouncing between the venue’s big analog clock and the party’s guests, consisting of The Bear’s staff and the entire Berzatto clan (besides Donna - while Pete was in charge of the invites, you’d made sure that he didn’t invite her) when your phone vibrates in your hand.

Pete: The eagle is flying.

Your eyebrows furrow.

You: wtf are you talking about dude???

You: can u text me like a normal person rn, im about to have an anxiety attack

Pete: Me and Nat are outside!

You look up, eyes wide.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up! Hey, shut the fuck up! She’s here!” You shout, gesturing around wildly. It’s a little hard to get the attention of the loudest family of all time. Thankfully, Carmy sees you struggling and steps up to the front of the room with you.

“Yo! Sugar’s here!” His voice fills the venue, and everyone gets into place in front of the overflowing gifts table. “C’mon,” he motions you over to the front of the group with him. You can hear Sugar before you see her.

“Seriously Pete, where the fuck are you taking me? I’m way too pregnant to be blindfolded right now. Plus, there’s shit I gotta do at The Bear.”

“We’re almost there, relax,” Pete says with a clear smile in his voice as he opens the door and guides Sugar into the room.

The room erupts with an out of sync “Surprise!” and Sugar rips her blindfold off immediately, looking around the room in disbelief.

She turns to Pete and hits him lightly on the chest, “What the fuck, Pete? Is this my fuckin’ baby shower?”

He leans in to give her a kiss with his hand resting on her baby bump, and the moment is so sweet you have to look away.

“Yeah, Nat. As much as I’d like to take the credit, Y/N was the mastermind here.” He gestures over to you and Sugar runs over to you, squealing.

The two of you hug as tightly as you can with the baby between you as she thanks you repeatedly. “I can’t believe you did all this!” You give her one last squeeze before letting her go.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Sugar. Plus, I gotta make sure baby Berzatto knows how much I love them already. I’m campaigning hard for that Godmother spot.”

“Psh,” she waves you off. “You already know you’re a shoo-in. Who else am I supposed to have as the Godparents for my first born if not you and Carmy?” She scoffs and moves on to greet her brother.

The relief you feel as Sugar gets smothered with love by her family and friends is visible on your face as you make your way to the small bar and pour yourself a generous glass of wine. Now that Sugar was here and having a good time, your job micromanaging was done. You see Richie make his way over to you, pouring a drink of his own.

“Ya did good, kid,” he gives you a pat on the back as he watches Sugar and Tiff animatedly talking.

“Yeah, no thanks to your attempts at sabotage,” you joke. What was that with you tellin’ Carmy the wrong time?”

“I refuse to accept that, there’s no fuckin’ way I gave Carmy the wrong time. Anyway, if you two would just grow the fuck up and talk to each other-”

“Okay, don’t even fuckin’ go there, Richie,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You know damn well I’ve tried to talk to him. If there’s anyone you should be lecturin’’ about this, it’s him, not me.” You pause to finish your drink. “Believe me, I’ve fuckin’ tried.” You pour yourself a new drink, smaller than the first. No matter how much you want to be drunk right now, you need to keep a clear head in case anything goes wrong.

“I don’t know what that kid’s problem is,” he gestures to Carmy, slightly shaking his head. “It’s like tradition for the maid of honor and best man to hook up at a wedding. Who fuckin’ cares?”

Your eyes widen and you aggressively shush him. “Wha- keep your fuckin’ voice down, asshole! How the fuck do you even know about that?!” You whisper-scream at him, positioning yourself in front of him instead of beside him.

“Chill out, Cousin, Carmy told Mikey, and Mikey told me,” he shrugged.

“Mikey told you- so you’ve known this whole fuckin’ ti-” your sentence tapers off at the sight behind Richie. You can feel your heartbeat speed up and your hands begin to shake. “What the fuck is she doing here?” You march off towards the entrance, on a mission.

Richie’s eyebrows pinch together as you stomp away. “Who the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He turns, watching you approach the one party crasher that could ruin this day: the Berzatto family matriarch. “Fuckin’ Donna,” he mutters to himself.

Before you can reach Donna, she’s already shouting into the room. “Oh my God, look at this beautiful Berzatto family event. Oh - everyone’s here!” You can practically hear the incoming drama in the tone of her voice. “Too bad it seems like you motherfuckers forgot to invite me,” she laughs humorlessly. “It’s a good thing Jimmy let it slip to me that Sugar’s baby shower was today. It’s a grandmother’s right to attend her first grandbaby’s baby shower.”

You hold your hands out to her as if she was a wild animal, waiting to strike. “Listen, Donna, you cannot be here right now.” She grabs your arms.

“Oh, Little Red, you used to love coming over to my house. I fed you, housed you when your own parents didn’t want to. You’re so ungrateful… that’s probably where my kids get it from,” she stumbles closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on her lips. Before you can reply, Carmy is stepping between you guys, taking her hands off of your arms.

“Hey, Ma, that’s enough. Don’t talk to her like that.” His voice is stern, but you can see the tremble in his hands.

She grabs his face, gently. “Oh, Carmy. I don’t even know you anymore. When was the last time I saw you, huh? You never come to see me.” The tears are flowing freely on her face now.

You glance behind you, looking at Sugar just in time to see Pete whisking her away to the kitchen, and out of Donna’s line of fire. At the same time, Richie is walking up to Donna. He puts his arm around her and leads her out the door. “C’mon, D, I’ll call you a cab. You should go home and go to sleep.”

She pushes him off. “Y’know what? Fuck you Richie. Fuck all of you people, you don’t care about me at all. I’ll fuckin’ leave. None of you will miss me anyway.”

You take a step towards them, but Richie holds out a hand in protest. “I got this, Red, don’t worry about it.”

As Donna turns to the door with Richie hot on her heels, you gingerly place your hand on Carmy’s shoulder. “Hey, Carmy, come outside with me,” you slide your hand down his arm, take his hand, and lead the way towards the back door. He doesn’t look up, but follows you closely without saying a word.

The stark winter air is refreshing, though you’re sure that you’ll regret the decision to come outside without a coat. You pull Carmy down to sit on the cool steps with you, and place your hands on either side of his face. You can feel him hyperventilating as your eyes meet his, his eyes wet with unshed tears. You resist the urge to look away. It’s been years since you’ve helped Carmen through a panic attack, and the memories are almost strong enough to cause your own tears. “Carmy, you have to breathe for me, okay? Here, try to match me.” You begin with the box breathing technique that you learned when you were teenagers. You take a deep breath in. One, two, three, four. Deep breath out. One, two, three, four.

In. One, two, three, four.

Out. One, two, three, four.

Carmy’s hands grip yours, hard, as he tries to match your breathing. “Just look at me, Carmy. It’s just you and me here, okay?” He nods and then closes his eyes, feeling the movement of your breath.

You can’t tell whether it’s just a few moments, or ten minutes before you feel Carmy calm down, but he eventually opens his eyes and his grip on you loosens. You let go abruptly, as if his skin was a hot stove.

“I- sorry. I’m sorry-” he starts, but you refuse to let him apologize for having a panic attack.

“Don’t, Carmy. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“I do, though-” he starts again, but you shake your head.

“C’mon, Carm. I know we haven’t talked in a while, but you know better than to apologize to me for having a panic attack.”

“That’s not- I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called, either. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you when Mikey died.” Oh.

You can’t help but look away, smoothing away the nonexistent wrinkles in your dress. “Carmen…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. “Let’s just leave it in the past. I think we’ve both been through enough today, yeah? It’s not important anymore.” You give him a tightlipped smile and move to get up.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, grabbing your hand. “No, it is important. I was a jackass. To everyone, but especially to you. I don’t want you to think that you were just- that what we did wasn’t-” he breathes out, running his other hand through his disheveled curls. “You’re important to me, okay?”

You give his hand one last squeeze before letting go and wrapping your arms around yourself. Whether it’s as an emotional shield or because of the cold, you don’t know, but this is all becoming too much for you. “I know, Carmy. It’s okay, really. We don’t have to talk about it. Actually, I would prefer it if we didn’t. It’s been years, we’ve both moved on. I heard about you and Claire, and I’m happy for you,” you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and he can instantly tell it isn’t real. “Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened, and we can go back to who we were before. For Sugar’s sake, okay?” You give him a single nod, as if you were agreeing with yourself on his behalf, and go back inside before he can respond.

He leans back on the step and pulls out a cigarette, before talking to the air: “Okay.”

dividers credit ! <3

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #*mine #carmen berzatto x reader

557 notes · View notes

thought--bubble · 4 months

Note

Hey, would you write something related to modern Aemond like: Aemond in high school is often excluded and harassed because he comes from a family considered strange and also because everyone has a view that he is strange. The reader is the only one who is kind to him and doesn't ignore him, and this is enough for Aemond to fall in love with the reader, despite never having had a real or very long conversation with her.

Additional: Aemond, despite maintaining a tough attitude, is extremely lacking in affection and is quite sensitive

This Is My First Ask So I Really Hope You Like It! The Characters are not in high school because i only write about adults but they will have originally met there. This got away from me a bit but I had a really good time writing it. I hope you enjoy!

My Salvation

Modern Aemond X (Long Term Crush Reader)

Warnings Under The Cut

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Allusions to Bullying, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Pining. IDK i suck at these any suggestions please LMK

"Everything is perfect" You think to yourself as you get yourself ready for your morning shift at the local coffee shop, and as far as you are concerned it really is.

You graduated from Highschool a few months ago and were ready to start your life as an adult. You had gotten yourself a job at the local coffee shop as well as signed up for the Autumn Semester at the Beauty Academy in Manchester.

Makeup for the stars was your dream and with the acceptance to the academy you felt like you were well on your way to achieving that goal.

Your day starts off like any other. You walk into the coffee shop apron in hand and greet your Co-worker Floris. She was a very popular girl back in your high school and dated the local bad boy Cregan Stark on and off for years.

"Good Morning Floris" You smile sweetly at her as you make your way behind the counter.

"Morning" She sighs letting you know the Floris you get to interaact with today is going to be the moody Floris. Internally you sarcastically thank Cregan for breaking up with her yet again and leaving you to deal with her sullen disposition, but you being the ball of sunshine that you are try and bring up the mood with cheerful banter.

"Has it been busy today?" You attempt to make conversation hoping she will bite at the bit so you don't have to suffer through one of those awkward days where she is silent and brooding through almost the entirety of your shared shift.

"No" she answers short and curt. you briefly rub your fingers against your forehead, if you don't figure out how to get her into at least a little bit better of a mood this is going to be a very long annoying shift.

The bell over the door jingles signaling that a customer has entered the shop.

"its back" Floris says annoyed.

"Stop that" You scold as you look toward the door.

There he is, your most common customer. Aemond Targaryen. He has his long blonde hair tied back and his eye patch on. You never understood why he wears that outdated thing. He must think it adds to his mystery persona.

Aemond is a bit of an oddball. Never fit in much in school. He is after all a Targaryen. The fact that he lost an eye in some sort of childhood accident, made him that much more different than everyone else. Which around here, is never a good thing.

"Hey there Aemond, the usual?" you ask him, your typical bubbly demeanor on full display.

"Yes please"" his answers are always so short and void of emotion. never mean or aggressive just short and cold.

You smile at him happily while you prepare his usual black coffee with tons of sugar. How he drinks his coffee like this you will never understand.

You spoke to Aemond sparingly back in school, which although is most than other students, still wasn't much. You wouldn't say you are friends but you do hold a bit of an affinity for him.

He had a tough time. No one could deny that. He was ignored, ostracized. Not that he would ever let anyone know if that fact actually bothered him, you always assumed that it did. At least to some degree.

You hand him the coffee with a big smile on your face. He takes it from you and nods. Making his way to his usual table and pulling out his laptop.

"Why does he stay?" Floris whispers "It's weird"

You shoot her a pointed look. "It is not weird for someone to sit down and work in a coffee shop, actually, it's quite common. Kindness isn't difficult. you should try it"

"You are aware their family tree doesn't have quite enough branches right?" Floris says while chuckling.

"A lot of royal families have that .... kind of history, they are descendants of royalty. Its been like what? 100 generations or something? Don't you think it's time for a new plot point?"

Floris sighs "He's just .... weird"

You roll your eyes and can't help but glance over at the mysterious man. Watching him type away on his laptop and staring at his side profile. If he wasn't the silent brooding type or a Targaryen the girls at school probably would have been all over him. He is obviously handsome with a jaw line that could cut diamonds. Its that icy chill around him and that albatross of a last name that had him shunned.

As your shift continues you occasionally glance over at him. His coffee long gone but still he stays typing away as other customers come and go.

"What do you think he's working on?" you wonder out loud

"Some version of the Targaryen anarchists cookbook i'm sure..... "

You sigh and roll your eyes again. Why could no one seem to look at the man himself instead of his family? Instead of the eye patch? It seemed so cruel.

"Do you mind if I head out 20 minutes early? Cregan wants to talk" she starts putting her jacket on before you even respond.

"Yeah that's fine, Sara and Jace should be here any minute anyway."

You watch as she quickly gathers her things running out of the shop. You tap your fingers on the counter. The shop is now empty save for Aemond typing away on his laptop.

"Hey Aemond?" You practically yell across the shop. He looks up at you furrowing his brows but doesn't say anything.

"You want a muffin or something?" you offer holding up a double chocolate muffin and wiggling it back an forth.

He simply shakes his head returning his focus back to the laptop in front of him. you sigh as you come to the conclusion that it is going to be a long and boring 20 minutes before second shift shows up.

Probably five minutes before Sara and Jace are due to arrive the downpour starts.

"oh well isn't that grand" you mumble to yourself.

You have been trying to save up for a car. Your parents couldn't afford to buy you one at the present time, and with the wages earned at the coffee shop it would most likely take the entire summer for you to save up enough so you walked to and from work. This typically wasn't a big deal since you lived close by but torrential rain always made the experience a lot less pleasant.

Jace comes running in soaked to the bone.

"Please tell me you just ran a mile and not just 5 seconds from the car park?" the grimace on your face outwardly showing how you are feeling

"Nah this is the 2 second walk from the car park it's serious out there right now!" he laughs while he shakes his hair off.

He comes around the back of the counter.

"He's here again huh? I could ask him to stop?" Jace whispers

"No, he's fine, he has a coffee works on whatever and then he goes."

"He always comes at the beginning of your shift and leaves at the end of it. You don't think that is a little weird?"

"Isn't he like your cousin or something? I would think that you would be nicer" you take off your apron and hold it in your hands.

"uncle, and we're not close" Jace heads to the backroom trying to dry himself off. "When sara gets here, I'm sure she won't mind running the store alone a few minutes so's I can drop you off"

"No, I'm ok. Just a little rain, Heard rainwater is good for your hair" You chuckle to yourself. "Bye Jace"

Jace waves as you head out the door of the shop and the second you get outside you can't believe how hard it is raining.

"Let me take you." Aemonds cool voice comes from behind you.

"Oh!" you jump and turn around his face, still as stone looking at you awaiting your answer.

"Thanks, that would be very kind" You decide to accept his offer. Firstly, it is downpouring and you really don't want to ruin your shoes and second, he can't escape you in a tiny car. He will have to finally speak.

The two of you run over to his Porsche. Of course he would have a Porsche.

"I'm getting your seat wet, i'm so sorry" you blurt out the moment the two of you are in the car.

"Don't worry about it" He turns the car on and turns on the heat.

"Thank you for this." You smile at him hoping he will look over at you.

Instead he just nods and puts the car in reverse backing out of the parking space.

You don't even tell him where you live but he pulls out front of your building anyway.

"Ummm.... how did you?"

"I dropped you off junior year after your friend ditched you."

"Right, I forgot about that" you scratch the back of your neck and purse your lips but don't make a move towards getting out of the car.

"Why do you come see me?" you look directly at him.

"What?" His voice sounds a bit defensive

"I'm not bothered by it. Really, I'm just curious"

"I like coffee." He answers as he turns his head toward you.

"No. it's something else. C'mon tell me" you flutter your lashes and give him a puppy dog look, no one can withstand your puppy dog look.

He chuckles and rolls his neck. "I remember"

This peaks your interest "Remember what?"

He sighs "I remember every single time you talked to me, looked at me, walked by me and waved. Hell, i remember when you held the door open for me. twice"

Your breath catches in your throat.

"I'm not crazy and i'm not a stalker i swear" he rubs his collar bone nervously. "it's just..... you were my salvation. The one person who didn't run from me or sneer at me or judge me and hate me" he grips the steering wheel tightly.

you reach over and gently rub his knuckles as they turn white. he takes a deep breath in at the skin to skin contact.

"So in other words.... you miss me?" You ask with a tiny smile and a blush on your cheeks.

"yeah, if you wanna make it simple i guess that would be the right term for it"

"How much?" Your voice drops from your sweet and kind persona, to a more sultry sound.

Aemond catches this right away. "Umm.... what?"

you get up on the seat, on your knees and lean over the center console. getting up close to his ear. "How much did you miss me? Like, was it driving you crazy?" You place your hand on his shoulder tracing your finger along his neck "Keeping you up at night?"

his breath comes out in unsteady huffs "You really shouldn't"

"Hmmm?"

"I will not be able to control myself if you keep that up" he grips the steering wheel tighter and suddenly the situation in this car had changed completely.

You were no longer teasing him to get a rise and reaction out of him. Him stating he wouldn't be able to control himself lit a fire in you. You felt this urge to push him there. A burning pooling in your belly you were not going to ignore. No, just this once you were going to indulge.

You lean over further bringing your mouth to his ear. "Maybe I want to see it"

He bites his bottom lip, then grabs your face pressing his lips against yours harshly. Lust and desperation apparent in his kiss. His hand slides up the back of your neck to the base of your head holding you close as he continues to devour you. Like a man starved.

Before your brain has even caught up to what is happening he grips your thigh harshly pulling you over the center console and into his lap. he quickly grabs your hips pushing you down into him as his tongue continues to explore your mouth.

"I've dreamt of this for ages" he whispers as he kisses and nibbles along your jawline making you purr contently. Being wanted this bad is the biggest turn on you have ever experienced.

You roll your hips against him chasing that pressure. When he feels this he growls and pushes your core against him as he ruts up against you.

"I have to have it." He begs with a breathy sigh "Gods please i have to"

You unbuckle your khakis and slide them off your legs giggling at the slight gymnastics you have to perform in order to get them off. Once they are off you drop back onto his lap and he runs his hands up your back pulling you tight up against him. His mouth finds yours again as his slips his hand between your thighs and slides a finger inside of you.

"I knew you would be perfect, I fuckin knew it" He groans as he adds a second finger pumping in and out of you slowly. he hooks his finger finding that spot inside of you that sends you to ecstasy. You close your eyes and roll your head back moving your hips rhythmically against his hand.

"oh god, oh god!" You squeal as he brings you over the edge, you clenching around his fingers. He immediately unfastens his jeans sliding them down to his thighs and pulling you over him.

"is this ok?" He asks gripping your hips tightly

You nod and he pushes your hips down sliding himself into you slowly. he makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl as you sink down onto him.

"This ain't gonna last long darlin" he grunts as he thrusts up into you. He bites down on your shoulder as he pulls you down over him over and over thrusting up into you at the same time. He rubs your pearl with his thumb as he quickens his pace.

Jaw slack and eyes like dinnerplates he watches as you come done a second time and groans

"Where? Where?" He whines "Fuck"

"I'm on birth control it's fine" You bite his bottom lip "Go ahead"

"Fuck! Ok Ok Fuck" He slams your hips down onto him three more times before his body tenses and squeezes your hips so tight you think your bones may snap.

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as the both of you regulate your breathing.

"Thank god it's fucking pouring" You giggle.

"Yeah, that was a bit mental wasn't it?" he laughs while breathing heavily and running his fingers through your hair.

You flop back over to the passengers seat and start pulling your trousers back on.

"See you at the coffee shop tomorrow?" you ask as you clasp the button.

"Always" he smiles back at you.

"Good, cuz i think I may need another ride..... " you giggle

"Really? you live so close" He teases back

"Who said I wanted to go home?" you wink at him as you hope out of the car. "See you tomorrow"

You shut the door and head inside with a huge grin on your face.

"Ok ... NOW everything is perfect"

To be added to taglist click here

#ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond/ you #modern aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #modern aemond x reader #fic request #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #jess fics #my modern war criminal bf

191 notes · View notes

baekhyunsbambii · 3 months

Text

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

#yeosang #yeosang x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #yeosang x you #yeosang smut #kpop smut #ateez smut #yeosang imagines #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang smut

140 notes · View notes

mourningstarrz · 10 months

Text

They Belong to Me

summary: ghostface!ethan convinces his family to not include gn!reader from their attacks

tags: nothing rlly LOL, established relationship, secret relationship, alluded murder

a/n: idk bro i was up at night and thought of this, also reader isn’t present until the end LMAOAOAO anyways not beta’d or proofread. lmk if y’all would like to see this develop more :)

“I’ll take care of Jason and Greg tonight, I want you the two to be in the clear. Okay?” Quinn and Ethan nodded, taking note of their fathers each and every word. “Alright, now then.” Bailey pulled out a photo of the entire friend group, “they’ll think Jason and Greg hits close to home, but I think we should take it a step further and go for the new addition,” he pointed at you, stood between Sam and Ethan.

“No.” Capturing Bailey and Quinn’s attention, the two turned to look at Ethan with a frown. “We leave y/n out of this.”

“We’re not going to let your dumb infatuation with y/n ruin our plan!” Quinn yelled at him. “You don’t even know if y/n likes your ass, why spare them?”

He sighed and looked up at Bailey, determined to protect you. “Leave y/n out of this. I follow all your orders, and all I want is for them to be safe.” looking back at the picture, he fights back the smile from the memory. “For example, I know y/n trusts me. Mindy is constantly on my ass as a joke, which makes it more likely for her to notice something. Anika is cool with me, but not enough to back me up. Chad,” he blows a raspberry, “yeah, he’s my roommate. But the moment Mindy gets any inkling of anyone, he’s quick to back her up.

“Quinn already has Tara and Sam’s trust to back her up because she’s their roommate. Besides having y/n trust to back me up, I’m only asking for this one favor. Never have I asked for more.” He leaned back against the chair, folding his arms above his chest. “Stay away from y/n. Jason and Greg is close enough.”

A beat of silence. Ethan knew he was stepping in dangerous territory. Asking his psychotic family to not rip you to shreds. But he knew he has to try, he would rather die than bare having to know your fall was due to his family, or even worse, himself.

“Richie always took care of me,” he never did “he would’ve been happy to see me happy.” Richie could’ve cared less about Ethan.

At the sound of the sigh from his father, Ethan congratulated himself. “Fine. But if they run the possibility of ruining everything for us, then you have to kill them. Got it?”

This is the best I can do, he thought to himself. “Fine. Y/n is out of this. Okay?”

Quinn grumbled, leaning against her chair. “Whatever.”

As he opened the door, his face lit up at the sight of you mindlessly on his bed, listening to music and scrolling away on your phone. Dropping his backpack on his desk, he walked over to you, smiling when you looked away from your phone.

“Eth!” Flinging your headphones off, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Sighing as the scent of his cologne filled your senses.

He hugged you back, of course. Sitting down next to you. “Miss me that much?” Ethan asked, his hands resting on your hips.

“I thought I came ‘round too early.” You confessed, turning around and fetching your notebook. “Ready to go over econ? This chapter is so confusing to me…”

“Mhm,” Ethan nodded and walked up to his backpack, grabbing his notebook as his phone buzzed. None other than Quinn texting him.

quinn hirsch

your little partner better not screw anything up.

Ethan rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone. Taking out a pencil and turning back to you with a smile, “you’re lucky I’m your boyfriend AND your tutor.”

a/n: ANYWAYS YEAH LMKKK IF YOU WANT MOREEE reblogs r appreciated🫶

-lucifer

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #ghostface #lucifer writes

283 notes · View notes

itsmaybitheway · 2 months

Text

WiP Wednesday 13/03

Thank you @wordsofhoneydew @magicandarchery @onthewaytosomewhere @suseagull04 @getmehighonmagic @sunnysideprince @priincebutt for the tags!!! I’m so sorry if I’ve missed someone I’ve been in and out of meetings and transporting to those meetings all day <3<3<3

Happy wip Wednesday tho!!! This week @happiness-of-the-pursuit made a comment about how my horrible stay-alive-during-law-school-finals-week juice should be in a fic and I ran with it, so there you guys go!!

It was inadvisable. Alex knew it was inadvisable the first time he did it, and he knew it the second time he did it. By the third time he was so high on caffeine, his hands were shaking, but one might argue attending law school was inadvisable as well. So Red-Bull lattes it is.

And it’s not like he meant to create this monstrous concoction in the first place. The milk his annoyingly perfect and considerate asshole of a roommate placed on his desk, along with a can of already opened Red-Bull, the cinnamon shaker and the mug holding his three shot of espressos (waiting for the addition of milk to his liking, decreasing by the increase of his stress level) were all next to each other. So when he accidentally picked the can and poured the contents of it inside his mug, it wasn’t on purpose.

But it got him an A on his Constitution Law paper so the next time he had a big dead-line coming up he did it again.

And now after mainlining three of them, running across campus for his Tort Law final, the tightness in his chest seems like a predictable outcome. What Alex doesn’t expect is for his arms to go tingly and lose the sensation in his legs. His vision goes blurry, the ground coming closer and closer. And the last thing his mind registers before it all goes black is the incessant ringing in his phone and Henry’s contact name- ‘HRH Dickhead 💩’ popping up on his screen.

As always this is an open tag to anyone who wants to participate and some no-pressure attached tags are under the cut!!! So sorry if you already posted and I missed it, like I said I had to adult all day and I hate it 😔 and if you guys don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!

@agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @absolute-audacity @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @cha-melodius @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @cricketnationrise @clottedcreamfudge @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @emmalostinwonderland @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @i-am-freyja @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @msmarvelouswinchester @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @orchidscript @porcelainmortal @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sweetmidnights @sherryvalli @smc-27 @songliili @theprinceandagcd @three-drink-amy @zwiazdziarka

#rwrb #firstprince #rwrb fanfiction #first prince #firstprince fanfic #rwrb fanfic #wip game #red white and royal blue fanfic #red white & royal blue fanfic #red white and royal blue fanfiction #wip wednesday #god why are wednesdays so busy #i just wanna post wips #don’t mix redbull with coffee kids

67 notes · View notes

desiderio-dixon · 3 months

Text

Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter 3 : Hand Me Downs

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : Glenn returns from Atlanta, Daryl returns from hunting, and all of you leave on a rescue mission for Merle.

Chapter warnings : language, violence, gore, general twd themes

Word count : 3.8k

A/N : This one wasn't proof-read so if anyone noticed any mistakes please lmk! next update may be a little slower because closing in on the process of adopting a puppy!

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Emerging from your tent, you head for Dale immediately. The noise is only growing closer and louder, and everyone is grouped around Dale. The old man looks through his binoculars, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned." Dale mutters.

"What is it?" Amy pushes impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess."

The bright red sports car pulls into the quarry, and your heart leaps in your chest when you spy the driver. While everyone around panics about the noise, or their still-missing friends, your relief outweighs anything else. You leap onto Glenn, hugging him tight while he attempts to calm Amy. Paying it no mind, you only focus on the way his arms circle around your back to return the hug. It only lasts a couple seconds before he's stepping back to pop the hood for Shane. It's enough, though.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy sputters, wide eyed and frantic.

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Typically you wouldn't care that anything had happened to Merle. You'd even go as far to say, you'd be downright relieved. You wouldn't wish death on anyone, but maybe you'd wish that Merle would somehow be teleported a good 200 miles away from you. But, that relief was only there for a split second. Instead, you felt a deep sense of worry for Daryl.

You didn't know him much at all, hell, he's spoken no more than five sentences to you the entire time you'd known him. None of those sentences were ever delivered in a particularly friendly manner, but just this morning he had helped you. You knew he felt like an outsider, and it seemed the only person in the group he liked was his brother.

Not only were you worried he'd fall into some form of depression if Merle was dead, but you were also worried he'd leave. Daryl provided so much to your group, and whether they realized it or not, everyone owed a lot to him.

You break free of your thoughts just in time to hear Dale scolding Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

You know Glenn looks up to Dale, can see his worry of disappointing him. "Sorry," Glenn says, staring at his feet. Then, he looks up with a grin. "Got a cool car." That makes you let out a huff of laughter. It is a pretty cool car.

Your attention is stolen away by the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the van pulling in behind the red dodge charger. Andrea is the first to hop out, running to Amy. Morales, T-dog, and Jacqui all spill out after her. Morales greets his wife and children before coming over to give Dale a hug. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure." Dale laughs.

"How'd y'all get out of there, anyway?" Shane asks, hands on his hips. The classic authoritarian stance he always seems to don.

From beside you, Glenn speaks up. "New guy." He glances to the van. "He got us out." New guy? It's been a while since your group has welcomed a new addition.

Nothing could prepare you for the reaction to the man who steps out of the van. Lori and Shane frozen, absolutely shellshocked. Carl, running and screaming for his father.

Lori recovers after a moment, falling into her husband's awaiting arms. Shane stays where he is, no hint of a smile on his face. You catch him fake one when Rick looks his way. It's not hard to guess what's happening. "Trouble in apocalyptic paradise for Shane and Lori." You whisper to Glenn, who only looks down at his shoes and shakes his head in sardonic amusement.

You get along well enough with Lori, if nothing else but for the simple fact that you adore her son. She's never done anything to make you think less of her, and you really don't blame her for her obvious affair with Shane. She'd told the story to you once or twice. Husband gets shot on the job, comatose, shit hits the fan, husband's best friend takes care of her and her son. And of course, she'd told you the part where Shane had listened for a heartbeat. There was none. Or so it was said.

Who can blame a grieving widow, lost in this shit-storm of a world for seeking comfort in a fling with the man she believes is her savior?

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You sit down by the unlit firepit with T-dog and Glenn. T-dog gnaws on a piece of jerky, eyes downcast. "Daryl's not gonna be happy," You start. No one has filled you in exactly on what happened, just that Merle was left chained on the roof. Alive but trapped. "But I'm sure he'll understand to some degree. He's gotta be more tired of his brother than any of us." You joke. T-dog just shakes his head, obviously guilty.

"He was out of control. Rick did the right thing." Glenn tells you. You hum in response, gaze wandering to where Rick wanders around camp, acquainting himself with all it's residents. The deputy must feel your eyes on him, because when he's done shaking Ed's hand, he heads for you. He's all confident strides, a sureness you haven't seen in anyone since the end of the world. You guess it's the effect of finding your wife and child in such unlikely circumstances.

He stops in front of you, hand extended and a smile more full of happiness than you've seen in two months. "Rick Grimes." He introduces.

You return his smile, clasping his hand. "Trust me, I already knew your name. Carl's told me all about how cool his daddy is." He laughs, looking down in a sort of bashful manner. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, nodding to himself.

"Yeah," He drawls. "Turns out I already knew yours, too. Glenn told me you know the city like the back of your hand." You nod. You'd lived in Atlanta before the turn, and you'd only become even more informed on it given the various runs you'd been on.

"Oh yeah. Normally I would've been there, being the one to save Glenn's ass. Glad you were there to fill my shoes." You tease, nudging Glenn with your shoulder. He pushes you back gently, sputtering out defenses.

When you glance back to Rick, he's laughing too.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

After the sun had gone to sleep, and the stars brought a bitter chill to the air, everyone gathered around the firepit. Rick has Lori and Carl tucked into his side as he recalls the chain of events leading him back to them. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all of those things but, disoriented comes closest."

It must be strange to just wake up in a world like this. At least you had seen things progress. Heard the stories of cannibals on the radio, seen the news clips of deathly beings attacking civilians, watched the hospitals become overrun and the system fall apart. You'd seen the bombs drop, too.

"Words can be meager things, sometimes they fall short." Dale pipes up beside you. You look at Glenn, his face illuminated in a warm glow from the fire. Looking at him lights a sense of comfort and safety within you. He may be young, awkward and clunky, but he saved you.

The conversation goes on, focus almost entirely on Rick. When he turns to Shane, a sincerity to his eyes, you feel almost guilty. As if you are the one harboring the secret of Lori and Shane's affair. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." You have to suppress a sigh at his words. "I can't begin to express it."

"There goes those words falling short again." Dale quips. You can't help but agree. It's not your business, but you feel that words can't begin to express how convoluted the relationship between those three will end up being. How long can you keep secrets from a cop?

Shane leaves shortly after to argue with Ed. Not the first time the drunken man had insisted he needed a larger fire. You keep an eye from your spot, watching Carol and Sophia closely. You don't like Shane, but you know he'd use any excuse to beat on Ed. There's no complaints to be had from you if an altercation between the two started; as long as Carol and Sophia are safe and away from the action.

Somewhat unfortunately, the situation seems to resolve, Shane coming back to the main firepit. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says once Shane's situated. This time, your sigh does spill out. You weren't a part of the Atlanta group, and yet, all you've been thinking about since they got back was Daryl Dixon.

"I'll tell him," T-dog offers. "I dropped the key, it's on me."

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him." You see Glenn shaking his leg from beside you, glancing between T-dog and Rick beyond the fire.

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Ah, so that's why he was so nervous.

"I really don't think Daryl is like Merle," You say, unsure why you feel the need to defend him. Just because he brought Carol to you? "At least not like that." There were definitely other ways Daryl was like Merle. Their brash language, their unkempt demeanor, and perhaps their general strength and hunting skill. Still, Daryl didn't strike you as a racist.

The conversation goes on, discussing what to tell Daryl. Who to take blame, whether to lie or be honest.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-dog rambles, the fire crackling loudly as a backtrack to his words. "My point– Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

His confirmation that Merle is alive ends the discussion for the night, the group trickles off into their respective tents, and the fire flickers out. Glenn stands from beside you, announcing his departure. You watch him as he leaves, a coldness taking over in his absence.

You stay behind for a moment, no one left at the fire. A few feet away, Shane sits atop the RV. Paying him no mind, you lean back and stare at the sky. It's moments like these that you allow yourself to remember your best friend; allow yourself to picture her face among the stars. You take a deep breath, feeling it stretch your lungs, before breathing it out into the chilly night air. You imagine it takes the weight in your heart with it. But when you're done, standing up and heading to your tent, your chest feels just as heavy.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl finishes stringing up cans around the small clearing. It's not much, but it's some form of protection. He lies in the makeshift bed–his bag as a pillow and a t-shirt as a mattress. The trip hadn't been as productive thus far as he'd hoped, only a string of squirrels lay beside him. He'll get up before the sun, and keep going until he finds something of value he decides.

He takes comfort in staring at the night sky. It's where he feels he belongs. Even before the end of the world, he'd spent most nights sleeping outside in nature. It was always safer. In some way, he does find himself feeling more exposed without the knowledge that there are people around him. At the quarry, there's always someone keeping watch. He couldn't trust Merle to keep sober to watch his back.

But soon enough, it'll be back to just him and Merle. He'll have to deal with it.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You, Carol, and Lori are on laundry duty this morning. Carol scrubs Rick's sherrif uniform and something about it almost makes you giggle. Wearing a police uniform in the apocalypse is nothing short of something from a comic book.

You have Glenn's hat, trying to spot clean little dried blood stains. "I wish peroxide wasn't as valuable," You comment, scrubbing with all your might on a particularly stubborn stain. "Used to wash out blood like magic." Carol hums, agreeing. Lori stays silent, working on her own laundry with a faraway look.

"Everything okay with you and Rick?" Carol asks, touching Lori's arm gently with a soapy hand. Lori nearly jumps out of her skin, water splashing from her basin. Suds fly through the air, and to your great displeasure, a splotch of soap lands right in your eye.

"Ow, shit!" You cry, dropping Glenn's hat and covering your eye. Lori frantically apologizes.

Due to your momentary loss of vision, you don't notice Glenn approaching you until he's calling out. "Hey, you okay? Let me see," He says. You tilt your head up, trying your best to open your eye. He takes the corner of his shirt and lifts it, using it to gently brush soap away from your eye.

His care for you makes you warm. It feels good to know someone cares. You rapidly blink to clear the remnants of soap, before flashing him a radiant smile. "Thanks." You breathe.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Later, you stand next to Glenn, sharing in his grief. Dale and Jim are under the hood of the Dodge Charger, yanking out parts and pieces. Glenn's hands are on his head, brows furrowed in sadness. You pat him on the back. "We'll find another."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale calls. Glenn looks down at his feet and you giggle, much to his chagrin.

Before you know it, Rick has approached you, a similar look of amusement on his face. "I thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles.

"Maybe we'll steal another one someday." Rick echoes your earlier sentiment. He wanders off, likely to find Lori.

"You replacing me with officer friendly?" You joke, nudging Glenn. He exhales through his nose, a small grin on his face.

"I don't know who makes fun of me more." He whines. You roll your eyes, reaching up to steal his hat off his head. Placing it on top your own, you turn and run, laughing while he chases you.

The chase gets cut short by a chorus of screams. You and Glenn freeze in unison, wide eyes meeting each other before you both dash. You hear Carl and Sophia's distinct voices calling out for their mothers.

You run as fast as your feet can carry you, Glenn's hat discarded still on your head. The children are at the edge of the forest, and as the adults arrive, they all run right into their parents arms. Running into the forest behind them, you all find the culprit. A deer, now dead, with a walker feasting on its innards. Your eyes are drawn to the various arrows sticking out of it.

The men jump into action, beating the walker with various objects. It reminds you of prison beatings in movies; ugly, uncoordinated, and inefficient. When they finish, the grunts and huffs silenced, you point to the arrows. "Daryl." You simply offer.

Shane nods, but otherwise they seem to ignore you. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale says, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the tree branches start to move and dried leaves crunch under the weight of something. You all gear up to fight another walker, when Daryl Dixon comes stumbling out of the woods. There's a level of relief to seeing him, knowing that your group didn't lose both their prize hunters in one fell swoop. But there's also a level of dread, a sinking weight in your stomach when you think of the news that needs delivering.

You don't get to think on it long, for Daryl interrupts your thoughts with an outburst. "Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this–" He starts kicking the walker. "–filthy, disease-bearin', motherless, poxy bastard!" You can't help but laugh. You really don't mean to, don't want him to think you're mocking him. The giggles just tumble out one-by-one, unstoppable in their path.

Everyone pauses to look at you, varying degrees of concern and confusion, but you just can't stop laughing. Daryl narrows his eyes at you, "This funny to ya?" You can't answer through your huffs, so Daryl just scoffs, turning his attention back to the walker. It receives one more swift kick to the side.

Dale extends his arm in a notion to stop. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." You know it from the moment it leaves his lips that he'll receive an earful for this. It simply doesn't work to tell a man like Daryl to 'calm down'.

Just as expected, Dale receives the opposite of the intended reaction. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond'?" You, for one, think Dale's bucket hat is very stylish, and you'd let him know that on multiple occasions.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He seems genuine, chewing on his thumb and contemplating with a furrowed brow.

"I would not risk that." Shane says. Daryl sighs, disappointment evident.

"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl moves to leave, and you start to follow behind him.

Suddenly, the decapitated walkers head breathes life once more, snapping it's teeth and groaning. Daryl stops in his tracks, almost making you face-plant right into his back. "Come on, people. What the hell?" He readies his crossbow, shooting the decaying head right between the eyes.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl makes it back to the camp first, tossing his string of squirrels by the firepit. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here, got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He does find it strange that Merle doesn't immediately respond, knowing how loose Merle's jaw is.

Shane's voice, his tone, sends a spiral of uncertainty through him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit, need to talk to you."

Daryl whips around to face Shane. "About what?" Shane places his hands over his belt buckle, eyes darting away from Daryl.

"About Merle. There was a–There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl let's the words sink in, nodding slowly. He feels that all too familiar lump in his throat, panic digging her claws into his esophagus.

"He dead?" He thinks he must be. What else could Shane be referring to?

"We're not sure." Shane says. That lights a fire in Daryl. Uncertainty has never been his friend. Things didn't feel real without confirmation.

"He either is or he ain't!"

Rick approaches, hand out as if Daryl was some rabid animal. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?" Daryl snaps, looking this new guy up and down. He looks past him, to everyone at camp, who seems to not bat an eye at the newcomer. The hell did he miss?

"Rick Grimes." The confidence that Rick delivers his name in only makes Daryl more angry.

Daryl huffs, stepping closer to Rick, chest puffed. "Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick tilts his head, locking eyes with Daryl. "He's still there."

Daryl almost laughs, a bitter, angry laugh at the absurdity. "Hold on. Let me process this." He gestures to his head. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?" He yells.

"Yeah." Next thing Daryl knows, he's pulled his knife and Shane has him in a chokehold.

"You'd best let me go!" He screeches, thrashing wildly.

Shane only seems to tighten his grip. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal."

Shane has an air of amusement in his tone when he responds, but nothings funny to Daryl right now. "You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick crouches down to look Daryl in his eye. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Its not Rick's request, or his condescending tone that causes Daryl to agree. It's not Shane's grip either. It's when he looks behind them, to you.

You, with your eyes full of not fear or worry, but of sympathy. It makes shame burn in him, enveloping his body in an overwhelming and uncomfortable warmth. He feels your eyes on him and he feels your pity and it makes him sick. He needs out. If he has to have a peaceful conversation with Rick to get away from your piercing eyes, then so be it.

Imagine Daryl's thrill when Rick proposes you and Glenn to join in the rescue mission for Merle. He'd said something about you and Glenn knowing the city, needing you to retrieve a bag of guns. Daryl narrows his eyes at you and Glenn when you pack into the back of the van. You've still got the kid's hat on, and something about that makes him uncomfortable. Who has time for love in this world?

The ride is mostly silent, some jokes exchanged between you, Glenn, and T-dog. Nothing Daryl pays much attention to. He'd rather go get his brother himself. Eventually Glenn stops the van. "We walk from here."

On the walk, Daryl's heart speeds up the closer he gets to the department store. He's antsy, just wants to see his brother, dead or alive. You seem to notice, speeding your steps a bit to walk in pace with him. "I'm sure he's okay. You Dixons are tough." Daryl just scoffs, refusing to meet your eye.

Each step up to the roof sends a new wave of nerves through his stomach, so he takes them two at a time. T-dog cuts through the padlock and Daryl brushes past him onto the roof. "Merle!" And then he sees it. Grey and decaying, bloody and lifeless. It reminds Daryl of everything else Merle has left for him.

All the ripped old flannels, the half drank beers, hell, even the aged porno mags with the ink smeared and half the pages falling out. Merle never left anything pleasant for Daryl.

Though, while sobbing over Merle's dismembered hand, he has to say that this is the worst hand me down of all.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

taglist(open): @celtic-crossbow

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #dbtd #the walking dead #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #twd daryl

85 notes · View notes

airybcbyy · 9 months

Note

Oh please, can I request the first time s/o rubs her nose against tecchou’s nose?

You don’t have an idea how I love tecchou’s fluff, like, everyone agrees he’s the most affectionate guy😭how I love my baby

AAHFSHSHSVSV I LOVE TECCHOU SM THIS IS SO CUTE. i had a pretty bad mental health week recently so i’m sorry for not finishing this earlier!!

nose to nose–

tecchou suehiro x gn! reader

a/n – this ask was too cute and i actually sobbed bc i love tecchou more than words can describe 🫶🏼

content – tecchou fluff, fem! reader, really just cute relationship type stuff, tecchou calls reader ‘sweetheart’ and ‘ my love ’ ,added backstory for absolutely no reason,i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – cute lil nose bumps with tecchou :)

when tecchou had first met you, he didn’t understand why his stomach felt so queasy. was it the soy sauce he’d put in his coffee? no. it couldn’t be that– he’d drank it many times before, so what was different about today?

you–a new addition to the hunting dogs– you were the only new thing about today. his daily rituals of working out during meetings, going on his own little adventures after getting a mission done a little too quickly; all of that would now be thrown off balance because you were here.

this feeling in his stomach would go away sooner or later

or– that’s what he’d thought.

even then; two months after you’d arrived into their little group of strangely strong super freaks, the weird queasiness never subsided within tecchous stomach.

the way you smiled at jouno made his stomach churn in a way that could only be described as anger, but why would he get upset over two of his coworkers just chatting? he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, so he went to the one member of the hunting dogs who hadn’t been so wrapped up in their space; tachihara.

tecchou went up to the fake ginger and asked him simply about why his stomach burned every time you were around him, yet it also burned with anger when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

“i dunno man, sounds like you like her to me-”the other male shrugged. which led to tecchou realizing that he did, in fact, like you.

and that’s what led to now, three months after tecchou had so bravely walked up to you the same day he’d found out that he actually liked you and asked you for “the honor of being his girlfriend” and who were you to tell the (arguably) cutest hunting dog no?

the two of you were sat on your couch, watching another stupid movie that tecchou had picked out. he refused to watch any high tense hostage or action movies; insisting that he “hated people getting tortured for no reason”

you’d been staring at your boyfriend for the past two minutes, trying to telepathically tell him that you absolutely did not want to watch this movie anymore, but he obviously couldn’t get your wavelengths.

the male kept shoving his face full of his buttered popcorn mixed with mustard– something that had his breath smelling disgusting and you avoiding every kiss he’d tried giving you.

“ ‘hiroooo ” you whined out towards your boyfriend, which made him finally turn his attention towards you, popcorn crumbs and mustard stained over his mouth and somehow even on his nose. you could never understand how your boyfriend got so messy while eating; it was a true mystery.

“ yes, my love? ” he’d chirped out, titling his hair so his fluffy hair that you could play with for hours upon hours. “can we change it? this is so boring!”you sighed, leaning closer to him, trying to take the remote that was placed on his lap.

“but i like this–”the males words stopped short when you got closer to him. try as he might, tecchou suehiro was the type of man to basically malfunction whenever you got closer to him. his hands found their way to your waist, moving the remote off his lap, causing you to let out a groan. you were so close and of course your puppy of a boyfriend couldn’t realize what you were doing!

the male moved you onto his lap with a ease, looking up at you as you stared down at him,“ you’re so pretty, y/n.”he leaned up, going to kiss you. and even though you loved your boyfriend, you weren’t going to kiss his popcorn and mustard filled mouth.

you slightly turned, shaking your head before putting your forehead on his, rubbing your nose against his. and let me tell you, tecchou was gobsmacked.

he looked up at you with a small frown, still staying close to you,“my love, do you not want to kiss me?” he asked as you let out a laugh. “you’re breath stinks, ‘hiro. ”

tecchou was never the type to complain, so he’d take the smallest of nose rubs from you, even if it confused him for the first six seconds it had happened.

“ if i go brush my teeth, can i kiss you?” he asked softly

you never did end up getting that remote.

the ending kinda sucked, i’m sorry! but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!!

221 notes · View notes

imaginedanvrs · 3 months

Text

encrypted relations

part 8 l masterlist

summary: yelena belova x reader. when natasha takes you under her wing, she becomes like family, and the last thing you want is to lose that. but when you meet her younger sister who you know is off limits, you have to decide between what you really want and hope for minimal damage

word count: 2.7k

warnings: lots of graphic violence and descriptions of blood and gore, mentions of past sexual assault, kidnapping, lmk if i missed anything

Several long days dragged by without you hearing anything from Yelena. It was hard, but everytime your gut twisted as you ached for the blonde you reminded yourself that she was no doubt feeling worse. You needed to fix things. Even if you couldn’t be together, you at least wanted to be able to talk to her again because her missing presence seemed to have created a noticeable hold in your life that you had no intention of filling with anyone else.

You were laying in your bed with your laptop next to you and Marty at your feet when your phone chimed with a text from Kate. As much as you loved your best friend, you were disappointed the message wasn’t from Yelena.

Kate: Melina did some digging and found something, if I don’t text till tonight can you walk Lucky?

You: yep, be safe!

Melina had found something? You had presumed she had stopped looking into the files like you had since coming to the end of them. Had she gone back through? Maybe found additional files you couldn’t see? You tried to shrug off the thoughts, knowing that the older Russian knew what she was doing, but you were curious more than anything else.

You turned on your computer and opened up your email chain to Melina that had ended a few weeks ago when you both declared you had gone through everything.

Kate just told me you found a lead, how’d you do it?? You typed out and sent off the email.

Much to your surprise, Melina responded within a few minutes but you stopped short when you read the simple message.

I didn’t. You froze and reread the two words again. What? Kate wouldn’t lie to you about going on a mission. You frantically opened up your phone to message the archer again, unable to ignore the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

Me: where are you guys??

You tapped your phone in your hand but you knew that if Kate was already on her way then she wasn’t going to be looking at her phone. So you turned back to your computer as your mind twisted between assuring you she was fine and telling you the worst case scenarios. Yelena’s experience wouldn’t lead her into a trap and even if it did she would know what to do.

You didn’t get the chance to reply to Melina, because another new email caught your attention first. The email handle looked to be a bot, but the subject line stated: hurry. An image was attached and you almost hesitated to open it.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you stared at a grainy image that was clearly Kate and Yelena in some come of abandoned warehouse. Below was a location that you knew you had no training to go to yourself. You scrambled with your phone to call Natasha, while forwarding the email to Melina, but she didn’t pick up.

“Come on, come on,” you hissed as you paced your apartment and tried again. Nothing. “Fuck!” You tried Steve and got nothing. You tried Wanda and got nothing. You tried every single person you could think of until you became aware of how much time had passed since getting the email. No one was picking up and you had no idea why, which left only you.

You ran a shaking hand through your hair as you scanned your apartment for any hint of what to do and landed on an opened drawer you hadn’t noticed before. Paranoid, you warrily stalked towards the drawer and found a black handgun inside with a sticky note on top inscribed with the letter Y. After all her insistence of you getting a gun, she had gotten one for you.

You should’ve called the police, let them handle the situation. But what if they didn’t get there in time? You didn’t have time to keep thinking about the what ifs, so instead, you grabbed the gun and left the apartment. On your way down, you called the police, giving them a brief rundown of what you thought was happening and shared the address with them, hanging up before they could query much more.

Calling a cab once outside, you tried phoning each of the avengers again as the car started towards the warehouse. It wasn’t unusual for all of the avengers to go on a mission together, but something about the timing of it didn’t sit right with you. You couldn’t linger on what you couldn’t control though, instead forcing yourself to come up with some kind of plan. You came up blank.

I’m just a hacker, I should get this guy to turn around and let the police deal with it. You thought. But what if they got there too late? What if you got the call and news you had nightmares about receiving. You couldn’t lose them. You reminded yourself of that when the warehouse came into view and instructed the driver to stop round the corner.

Your heart rattled against your ribcage as you stood outside the warehouse and pulled your gun from inside your jacket. This is so goddamn reckless, you thought as you inched the main door open and slipped inside. You kept low, scanning the area for any signs of life. It was unnervingly quiet. Every step you took, no matter how gentle, bounced off of the walls. I really shouldn’t be here.

Natasha leant forwards as she scanned over the email she had just received from Melina. “What’s up?” Yelena asked as she watched her sister’s brow furrow. Natasha showed her screen to the blonde who frowned as she took in the image of her and Kate in a location she couldn’t recall ever having been in with the archer.

“It’s from Melina. Y/n forwarded it to her,” Natasha explained as she looked through the text. “Apparently Kate told her you were on a mission there.” The pair paused, their brains connecting the same dots as Yelena pulled up Kate’s contact while Nat pulled up yours. Kate picked up, you didn’t.

“Kate Bishop, did you tell y/n we are on a mission?” Yelena demanded as she looked to her sister, seeing that you weren’t answering.

“No? Why?” The archer asked. Yelena cursed in Russian.

“Get ahold of her now,” she ordered and hung up. “You don’t think she’s gone there?” Yelena questioned, though they were both already grabbing their jackets.

“I do,” Natasha confirmed. “God, she’s an idiot.”

The hands that held the handgun in front of you were shaking and you knew it wasn’t just because of the cold. But with every step you took, you reminded yourself that Yelena and Kate had to be around the space somewhere and that you needed to get to them before someone else did. You had hoped to have heard the sirens already too.

“Long time no see,” you spun around on the spot, your eyes flickering across the space in the direction of the voice that you could never forget. “Hey, baby,” Rae greeted as she stepped out from behind a stack of crates, a menacing axe hanging loosely by her side. She sauntered towards you, an easy grin on her lips as you stood frozen.

“What? I don’t get a hello after all this time?” She asked with a fake pout.

“What are you…what?” You stared at the raven haired woman who you foolishly assumed you would never see again.

“How am I? Oh, I’m great thanks for asking, even after that stunt you pulled,” she hissed, continuing to stalk the area around you. “That got me in a lot of trouble, you know? All because you wanted to be selfish bitch,” as she spoke, she let the axe drop against the floor and scrape against the concrete next to her as she moved. You eyed the weapon warily, knowing you should use your own.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” You didn’t. You couldn’t rake your brain for anything to say to the woman before you. “No apology for abandoning your girlfriend?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed, taking you both by surprise. Rae chuckled, bemused by the agitation you had never shown her when you were together.

“Where was that bit of fight back when you needed it?” She asked with a mocking grin that made your stomach twist. Your hands began to rattle again as images of your past flashed in front of your eyes.

No, you couldn’t think about that. You couldn’t let her succeed in getting into your head.

“Shut up,” you tried to shout, but your voice wavered. Rae grinned more.

“Or what? You gonna shoot me? You never fought back when I hit you, or when I fucked you.”

“Stop!” You managed to yell, though the tears threatening to spill through didn’t help.

“Maybe all those times you said no you actually wanted it.”

You fired. And missed. Rae was faster than you remembered her being, within a second she knocked the gun out of your hands and made you stumble to the floor. Your back collided with the dark concrete though you didn’t feel the pain of the impact because you were too concerned with putting as much distance between you and Rae as you could when she was sauntering towards you. She chuckled as she watched you try to scramble away.

“I knew you would come here when I sent you that email,” she told you. “You always were so curious, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. But you know what they say, baby, curiosity killed the cat,” she warned you in such a tell-tale way that didn’t expect her to bring the axe down on your leg a second later.

You screamed as the searing pain shot from your calf where the axe was embedded. Rae pulled the blade out with a grunt and you immediately made to get up until she swung again at your unguarded back, knocking what left like every last breath out of you. You collapsed and forced yourself onto your back to look up at Rae and try to dodge her next move. The weapon was heavy, she wouldn’t be able to be agile with it.

“You have no idea what consequences your fuck up had for me,” she told you, her anger coming to the surface in a way you couldn’t avoid. She brought the axe down again and you were unable to dodge it entirely, instead having it lodged in your side. You howled in agony, feeling the blade dig into your ribs so prominently that you didn’t even notice how wet the back of your shirt was with blood.

“The things I had to endure as punishment,” Rae continued as she pulled the axe free, taking what felt like a pound of your flesh with her. “I’ve waited years to give you your fair share of the pain, the least you could do is accept it.” You didn’t feel where the next hit fell. You only felt your body shake with the impact and the grotesque sound of it embedding itself in you.

“The…police…will come,” you struggled to tell her with a mouth full of blood that came bubbling up from your throat. When you heard her laugh in response, you knew you were fucked.

“Same way the Avengers will? You didn’t call the police, malysh. No one’s coming for you,” she told you, bringing the axe down again.

Natasha and Yelena didn’t exchange a single word as they stood either side of the entrance door. They had been through situations like that one enough times to rehearse it in their sleep and that was what they reminded themselves as they exchanged a swift nod: that it was a standard rescue mission. The moment they let it get personal was when mistakes would be made and they couldn’t afford any.

The Russian’s scanned the vast room as they stalked amongst the crates with long since faded brand imprints. Their footsteps were silent as they listened out for a single pin drop, anything to indicate where you could be. They didn’t hear a thing, though Natasha’s voice was the one to break through the tension.

“Get Stark down here now,” she ordered.

“What? What have you found?” Yelena asked as met her sister’s unnerved eyes and tried to look at the space she had come from.

“Yelena,” Natasha warned with a firm hand to the blonde’s chest.

“No, what is it?” She tried, shoving her sister away only for her to be pushed back in response.

“Don’t look,” Natasha pleaded. The waver in her voice made Yelena pause for a brief moment before she charged on to look around the other side of the crates, stumbling upon what she found.

“It’s alright,” Natasha assured, trying to reflect her confidence in her tone but it was difficult when she didn’t feel it herself. Yelena hardly heard, her focus entirely on the pool of crimson. “Stark has the technology to scan the area for her, she can’t be far,” the redhead continued as she placed a hand on Yelena’s hand, wanting her away from the scene you had left them.

Even as the blonde allowed herself to be turned around, the image of the deep red splatters stained into the crates several metres away from the main puddle lingered behind Yelena’s eyes. She didn’t listen as her sister called her billionaire friend, far too stuck in her own head and wondering what state she would find you in - because she would find you.

“Thanks, Tony,” Natasha said as she hung up the phone and took an anxious glance towards her sister. “He’ll be here in ten,” she told Yelena who didn’t respond. The redhead cursed internally, feeling the weight of the moment settle on both of their stomachs.

She had been too harsh with you that night, saying things she didn’t mean just as you had but making you suffer for it all the same, just because she could see that Yelena was. Natasha knew, then more than ever, that you would never set out to hurt her little sister, not when you were so quick to blindly save her. She would tell you all that when she saw you again, she promised herself.

Natasha was interrupted from those thoughts when her phone vibrated once in her hand. The redhead looked at her screen and saw she had a message from an unknown number. Frowning, she opened the text and immediately felt an anchor tied around her guts drop. On the screen was an image of you in the back of an unclear car, unconscious, shirt stained scarlet. There were wounds she couldn’t examine properly because bile was rising in her throat and she didn’t want her sister to notice. She couldn’t see that picture. Ever.

The redhead’s sickness subsided the moment she read the text beneath the picture, moving aside for the anger that began to rise and threatened to bubble over the surface. Natasha took a deep breath to steady herself as she glared at the screen, resisting the impulse to snap the device in half.

Too late : (

Stay calm, recall what you know.

That was what Natasha had taught you when you first met. She had taught you a lot, but in that moment that lesson was the only one you were capable of recalling.

You were fluctuating between consciousness. You were in the trunk of a car. You were being taken. You were badly injured. It was Rae.

Rae… the pain she had inflicted was unlike anything you thought was possible to experience. You had no idea how many times she had swung that axe down on you, some parts of your body hurt more than others, but there was an inescapable alarm going off amongst your nerves and major organs telling you that it was bad. Really really fucking bad.

She had hit muscle and bone, but you were unsure what else had been punctured. You knew that the blood in your mouth meant something critical had been attacked, but it couldn’t be something so significant because you were acutely aware of the fact that you were still alive. You may very well be dying, just not yet.

It would be okay, someone would come for you. You just weren’t sure they would come in time.

#marvel #dark!marvel #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova imagine #natasha romanoff #kate bishop

95 notes · View notes

signed-sapphire · 2 months

Text

The Fallen Star ✨

A Wish rewrite

Cielo design 💛

The boy is here! The most ever! The Fallen Star’s very own Starboy!

So I lied and don’t have the finalized designs for King Maggie or Queen Ams yet soooooo *throws confetti at you* take this Starboy reimagining in the meantime!

Eugh boy the name gave me trouble. I didn’t want to use Aster since that’s the name of a a couple popular Starboys already (@annymation/@gracebeth3604/ @mythartist21) and while the Greek name is cool, I wanted something a bit different.

SEE-EH-LO, for anyone wondering. He/they pronouns <3

I was heavily considering choosing Estrella and making Starboy a Stargirl, and then we’d have a gay romance. But this is supposed to be SOMEWHAT of a homage to early Disney. This may not be KoW, but… idk. Cielo is a gender neutral name. Literal manifestation of light. Go ahead and draw them as a female-presenting figure and it’s still TFS!canon~

Aaaaaaanyways. Here’s the actual rewrite!

First of all! Cielo is NOT the Northern Star! He’s a baby star like… in the bottom right

However, the Northern Star? Evangeline? Yeah, she’s gonna be in my rewrite

But Cielo is NOT her

For now I’ll just say Evangeline is sort of a mentor-figure to Cielo and leave it at that

So not all stars are wishing stars, and similar to Kingdom of Wishes, a wishing star is born when first wished upon

Once a wishing star fulfills their first wish, they become Stars (capital S), and are free to help anyone that needs it

The more wishes a Star fulfills, the more powerful they become

Idk maybe it’s like a Rise of the Guardians thing, where the more people that believe, the stronger your magic is

Sparkles and hope and glitter and shit

Until, as explained in my rewrite… the Stars grew bored and started simply granting wishes

Then people grew lazy and started demanding wishes

And all this belief made the Stars go overpowered

Basically it became Wonderland, everything coming true, kingdoms burning and villages destroyed

Yeah. So Magnus god rid of them eventually

Though who would suspect that it would be the king’s own daughter that would bring back his greatest fear?

Yep, Asha brought Cielo down

Not purposely, but even if she had done it purposely, she wouldn’t have chosen Cielo

He’s a little baby, a dwarf star maybe

Only ever gotten one wish in his life…

Huh never seen that before *side eyes KoW*

Personality traits

Optimistic

Very Anna-coded

Probably ADHD tbh (autism x adhd duo unite)

Stubborn

HE’S the quirky Disney princess

Although more Flynn than Raps

Backstory

Fuck around and find out

(And by fuck around I mean wait for my rewrite to come out bc I haven’t slept in two days and I’m too tired to articulate their story accurately)

Design

Due to popular demand, Cielo now has the Charlie Morningstar cheek thingies

Also @gracebethartacc got an ask about canon!Star being marketed with a star over their right eye so… vitiligo mark, anyone?

Yeah I don’t have many colored refs but basically Cielo’s star eye mark and cheek thingies turn into vitiligo marks when in their “human form”

Uh take this

Ye sort of like this^

Heart shaped face! His part is also supposed to resemble a “V” shape to make the top of the heart

My sister said they looked like Viva and I’m crying but too late to take it back

I guess they’re both Spanish? Ajdjajhsjajajs

Thin slutty waist. Imagine Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel bc Jeremy Jordan is Yes.

Like I’m obsessed with that wet cat of a character I’m thinking about Cielo’s voice being Jeremy

Although his younger VA days as like Varian would better suit Cielo…

ANYWAYS

Design by @mythartist21 save for the Trolls hair and cheek thingies! Those were my additions

Uhhh pointy ears, poofy sleeves

Idk is the star eye mark AND the cheek thingies too busy? Lmk and I’ll try to post a colored ref of that helps

#asha #disney wish #princess asha #asha x star #star x asha #the fallen star au #wish 2023 #human star #starsha #saph doodles #wish reimagined #wish disney #wish star #wish #star wish #wish concept art

44 notes · View notes

seemethroughglass · 7 months

Text

he’s a fool (you’re just as well)

franken!kyle spencer x reader

word count : 5.1K

warnings : fluff, (underage?) smoking, witches, zombies, witchcraft, dark magic, fainting, cooking, witch!reader, mentions of sex/hard drugs

a/n : this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr so if anything is wonky please lmk 😭😭 this fic was first posted on ao3 if you’d prefer to read it below :)

October 30th, 2013. 3:22 AM.

A faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap lavender scented room spray slid up into your nose and settled in your lungs, holding your breath until you couldn’t stand to anymore. You were back first on the surprisingly comfortable queen sized bed you shared with the 5’10 rotting man-baby, taking up the tight space on the right side you had while he sprawled his arms out, his fingers flexing and twitching ever so slightly haphazardly while he drooled on the pillow that gave comfort to his skull.

Kyle Spencer was dead, and had been dead for a while, is what Zoe told you. You were the newest addition to Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, this sick fuck of a school. Being here wasn’t anything you’d expect, and certainly wasn’t the worst, but the things you’d do just to go back home and enjoy some time alone. In just two months of being here, Zoe had wordlessly decided that you’d become Kyle’s new babysitter, a tentative decision that made you wonder if you’d ever go back to normal. You were in charge of bathing, changing, and feeding him. When you were expecting to be in a school like this, you never saw yourself soaping up a blond boy ever in your life.

It was frustrating taking care of him, especially when he’d lash out at you for not being able to understand him. Similar to the other witches, you’d use your powers in justification, your telekinesis was second nature to you- as you easily threw him back to walls, or shut doors on him. Once, Zoe offered to keep him chained for a bit, but you declined because ‘it felt inhumane’ (ironically).

But like every other young, feeble, and naive witch in your coven, your powers would fluctuate. Anyone would go crazy if they could suddenly hear every single thought someone would think. The good, the perverse, and the twisted thoughts one could have made you feel sick. You remember walking down aisles of the grocery store with Madison, your whole world suddenly felt abnormal, forced into a ubiquitous position as the faint sounds of peoples brain-vomit spilling out of their heads and into your ears. It got so loud, you couldn’t hear her anymore. You just saw her mouth “coke-head” as she continued her shopping. She couldn’t have given any less care to your dazed and frustrated state.

You didn’t feel safe out there.

You flexed your hands and felt the wrapped cohesive bandage around the flat of your hands, and the cotton fingerless gloves shifting around your hands. You hated how gloves felt around your fingers, and decided to take the risk of accidentally brushing up upon someone and sinking in all of what they know. Divination, is the textbook term, but Fiona just called it ‘a gift and a curse.’ This was also a sudden discovery, one that you were ashamed was only found out during a frat party. Never will you ever shake a man’s hand, who knows if they’ve washed their hands after using the bathroom or not? Thank god you didn’t find out anything else, not that you’d want to afterwards.

And I could go on and on about what you’ve discovered in on your own time. Mind control (which, you’re not skilled at- at all), pyrokenisis, reality warping, the ability to fuck around with any object- it all came in at once, in such a short time. Cordelia explained that it was something that all of the other witches had, but yours were forming at a rapid pace compared to the others. Hearing those words, you then forced yourself to a demure and home-bodied state. You thought, if you stayed at home, less shit goes down. You never knew how much you enjoyed the outside until now.

You could go outside whenever, if you just faced your fears and come to the terms that shit happens. You’re a witch, of course you’re gonna have these fucked up powers that show how fucked up every is, but every time you felt the want to leave, you’d only gaslight yourself into crawling back to your room again.

And… a part of you started to actually believe you didn’t find Kyle a nuisance, because he was the only one who stayed. You could tell he wanted to learn something when he was around you, longingly staring at his iPad as AbcMouse played, asking him how to write words like ‘duck’ and ‘cat’. His hands would stay in place, sometimes twitching, as he thought to himself and hesitantly drew letters on his device. There was a man, trapped in a cold husk. Every word he’d speak to you, it stuck, because you knew he was trying.

Did you see yourself in him? No? Yes? I don’t know.

You felt the need to protect, but not a knight in shining armor I’ll-Kill-Anyone-Who-Fucks-With-You-And-Let-You-Eat-Their-Brains-Afterwards protect. The kind of protect that had you letting him sleep inside your room for the night, because you knew if you didn’t then Madison would just push herself on and sleep with him again. Being a witch has shown you the evils of this world, as if the devil let you put 3d goggles on and see every disgusting perspective of others. Remember that one quote that goes something like… “While we are humans, we are animals”?

You felt him stir around in your bed again, the fleshy tip of his nose resting on your sleeved forearm. You started to wonder when he’d move aside, considering he was plumped on a good chunk of your bed. He served no purpose on your bed either, feeling like a cold, rubbery, chunk of meat nuzzling into your warmer skin. Honestly, he was kind of a waste of air, not that you envied him for it though. It made you think, what could he end up being, other than a sex doll or a servant? Everyone thought he was dead, but certainly you can get a job with no ID, no degree, and a high temper, yes?

Okay, right now he *might* be in a tight spot, but hell- you never know. You felt him moving around again, deciding to face him as he shifted his way closer to you, smelling the fabric surrounding your arm. You couldn’t tell if he was awake or not, watching him carefully to see if he’d move again, and once again he did. His eyes fluttered open a bit, before tightly shutting them and taking a deep breath, taking a peek from his rotting eyelids to see your face looking back at his.

This was an unusual morning (or night?) routine from him, because he wasn’t supposed to wake up at this hour. Perhaps the sudden body heat he felt from you awoke him? Doesn’t matter, now he’s awake, and it’s your responsibility to keep him tight lipped and busy until the sun rises. Shit, did you even realize that he was staring at you?

“Kyle… go back to sleep.” You whispered, lightly pushing his head upwards and away from your body. His eyebrows raised up a bit, reacting to your sentence, which sounded like gibberish due to his still drowsy state. You could’ve just talked to a brick wall instead, though, because all he did was prop himself up on the bed and look around. Kyle nodded, looking away from you before moaning a “Mm.. mmn..” for you. He struggled with his words for a minute and then managed to make out a “Mmh-morning.”

You shook your head, wanting to immediately cut the shit short and to tell him to just go back to sleep. But, men (or, zombies in particular) are stubborn and once he was awake, he was gonna stay awake. You internally cursed yourself before mirroring his movements and sitting up yourself, pulling on the comforter to cover yourself as you nodded, wiping your face. “Morning, Ky.” You sighed out, nodding.

You and Kyle usually did your morning routine together, so even though you did stay up all night and you knew it was only a matter of time until you’d fall asleep, you brushed your teeth with him. I guess coffee could keep you awake until 9, right? It was fairly difficult trying to keep him quiet while you brushed his hair and made him breakfast, but the more you talked, the more he took the time to listen.

“Ky, tell me which one you want.” You asked, putting down a carton of eggs on one side of the dinner table and a box of Belgian waffle mix on the other. He took his time, you thought he was going to pick the waffles when he turned to them, but you were a little taken aback when he shook his head. Your instincts made you want to protest, but once you saw his mouth open a bit, you let him try and mumble out his words.

“M…muh…”

“Macaroni?”

He shook his head, got it.

“Mm..hhheaat.”

If Nan was awake, she’d hear you think, “Who the fuck eats steak for breakfast?” until you realized that he was probably talking about bacon.

“Mm, bacon?”

You got back a copacetic nod from him, his breathing quickening up from excitement. You weren’t just going to give him bacon, so you decided to stick with some eggs and toast to go with it too, something the both of you could eat. You fetched the bacon from the freezer and eggs, butter, and bread from the fridge. Kyle kept his eyes on you, not having anything else to distract him with currently. You stayed quiet, indulged in your task of whisking the eggs in a bowl as you heard him try and communicate with you again. You stayed patient, with the mumbling coming from his mouth, but you could tell he felt more confident in this moment.

“Drink, orange.” He asked, looking around the kitchen to see if he could spot anything else to ask for. You turned around, shaking your head at him, “Orange… what, Ky?” you questioned, wanting him to try and finish his sentence. He looked back at your frame, letting out an unsatisfied sigh. “Orange.. jjjuice?” He responded, humming questionably. You turned to him briefly, nodding and pointing at the frying pan. “When I’m done, I’ll give you it, ‘Kay?”

He groaned out, suddenly balling his fist and hitting his thigh, shaking his head. It was way too early (or too late?) for Kyle to be getting upset, as he whimpered out a “N-no! Want- mmh..” to you. “Drink! Orange..! Mm, juice!”

“Kyle, no hitting!” You hissed back at him, letting the frying pan heat up on the open fire. “You use your words, hitting isn’t good.”

You watched as his facial expression softened, following his fists as he rested them back on the table, you could’ve sworn his lips shifted into a slight pout, but he nodded to you, making you realize that he never truly learned how to apologize.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“Mmhn..?”

The first time he tried to fight with you, was unforgettable, because it was the same day you had decided to voluntarily keep yourself locked inside the academy. You were just trying to change him, and get him ready for what would become his daily walk, but once you had him stripped to just his jeans and socks, he reacted. You weren’t able to take his jeans off, the minute you were trying to get his buckle off, it’s like realization had hit him. A push and a series of blows to your arms had you covered in hurt and bruises, the room was now episode 8 of a soap opera. God knows why you let him hit you for so long, did you forget you were a witch for a minute? Whatever, Madison wasted no time on flicking him off with whatever supernatural powers she had, his back meeting a wall quick. You felt bad, he didn’t really know any better. You’d start wrestling with anyone if they tried to take your pants off.

Now that you’re thinking about it, how’d she get up those stairs so quick? Isn’t she usually downstairs smoking a cigarette? Speaking of cigarettes, fuck, the smell of this house is starting to get to you.

Ten-ish minutes had passed, and there you were, plating the meal on a large plate that you and Kyle could share. Perks of being a witch? You can just enchant your bacon to defrost in seconds. Usually, Kyle would finish all of his food, but one time he noticed that if he didn’t finish, you’d be eating his plate instead of sticking with just coffee. It’s probably the reason he eats less, honestly, and you can’t really force him to finish all of his food anymore. I guess it’s something you two have silently agreed on, like mutualism. You poured yourself some coffee from the coffee pot, and in another plastic cup you poured orange juice into, for him. It was plastic, in case if he tried to throw it at you… like he did to Zoe (and, to be honest, that shit was hilarious when he missed and hit Queenie).

You don’t talk to him in the morning, you just sit there and watch him watch some Cocomelon, but right now the both of you can’t afford to make any sort of noise. A cranky witch is equivalent to an embarrassed boy, both can end up terribly. Still, it left you bored. There was nothing to talk about, because you can’t really keep up a conversation with someone like Kyle. Your phone was left upstairs, and you didn’t want to go back in fear of Kyle crying out for you and making noise, because it was dark and the only thing giving out light was the chandelier above the both of your heads. I mean, you could teach Kyle some basic vocabulary, but is that really something he was capable of doing while he scarfed down a piece of toast? Wait, wasn’t he supposed to apologize to you earlier? Maybe you can start up something with that.

You watched him chew on a large piece of toast, sending a few blinks in his direction as he paid no mind to you. Trying to get his attention, and prevent him from choking, you pushed the orange juice closer to him. Your nonverbal communication got to him, as he glanced back up to you and then looked down and took a sip from the glass. You waited until his mouth was empty to speak.

“Kyle?”

He looked back up at you, his eyebrows raising up again. He hummed, waiting for you to say something.

“…We don’t hit things in this house, unless someone else is hitting us, right?”

He blinked, his eyes slanting a bit, was he starting to get mad again? He nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink. “Yes.” He responded with, there was absolutely no stutter or hesitation in his voice, maybe the others had already tried to educate him on that?

“Do you know what sorry means, Kyle?”

Once again, brickwalled. Jesus, what a poker-face. Maybe this is why people want to be a mind reader, hm? You had never felt scared of him before, and still hadn’t, but this interaction definitely made you tense up a bit. He could be a hell of a guard dog. God, you’re starting to sweat, calm down. Enough thinking to yourself, get to the point, because he’s obviously not gonna give you an answer.

“You know… when you do something bad, and it hurts people? It makes you… feel bad?” You asked, inhaling. He quickly nodded, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. You nodded with him, deciding to ease up and take a sip of your coffee. A couple seconds of silence passed, and then you spoke again. “You say sorry, when you do bad things. I want you to say sorry.”

From an outsiders point of view (specifically Fiona, you could just picture it) they’d be laughing at the awkwardness of this conversation. Kyle didn’t know what awkward was, though. He took every word you said like it was, nothing felt personal to him. It gave you comfort, he had no high ego that could make him feel bad. Sure, he’s sensitive, but he had morals and a decent level of understanding like you did. Let me ask you again, did you see yourself in him? Someone who was once normal, thinking they had known enough, now forced to start from the top and had to adapt to what they had now. Shit, is that why you had to take care of him?

Naaah, you’re just overthinking it.

“Suh… orry. Sorry.”

“Good! You said it.”

“Mmhm..! Sorry!”

The difference between you and him? He was a quick learner. You, on the other hand, didn’t want to learn. You wanted to be normal, or at least control what you had (well, actually, doesn’t he want to also?). I mean, it’s been a while since you’ve tried controlling your own powers. It felt better helping him than helping yourself, hasn’t it? I don’t blame you, teaching someone basic math is muuuuch easier than trying to figure out how to make your bed float.

Kyle went back to eating after his successful lecture from the oh-so greatest but stopped after he finished his orange juice. There was still a bit on the plate, a piece of toast and a piece of bacon to be exact, as he looked up at you and then glanced back at the plate. “D…done.” He stated, grinning softly at you. He knew you were going to take the rest and finish it, and that’s exactly what you did. You nodded back at his words as you ripped the toast in half, chewing on your piece. For a dead guy, he’s pretty considerate. Makes you wonder how he was when he was alive, to be honest.

I think… you’ve only heard mentions of Kyle on the news, only when he had died. Words like… sweet, and caring, and friendly were on his memorial outside of that frat house. Shit, what was that frat’s name again? Kappa… whatever, they’re all the same, honestly. Maybe you’ll ask Zoe when she wakes up, I mean, she did bring him here.

After finishing the scraps that Kyle had left you, it was time to go back into your room. You didn’t hold Kyle’s hands up the stairs, you let him walk first, just to see if he could control his mobility first. You felt like you were starting to sweat, anyways. He stopped walking after a couple of steps and turned around to face you, only walking up again when you silently urged him to keep going up. It seemed like he got a bit weirded out by the fact that you weren’t walking up with him, he must’ve gotten used to holding onto you. Aww.

4:38 AM.

This should be about the time Cordelia wakes up, and starts working on whatever potion she has in her laboratory. Kyle was occupied with… himself, actually. He had discarded the iPad earlier, seemingly grown bored of AbcMouse and instead laying on his side, tracing unintelligible patterns on the hard wooden floor. He must be thinking to himself, you imagined. You were sitting on your bed next to an open window, starting to feel sick from the house-air. Did someone smoke, or was everything feeling nauseous to you? Ugh, you decided to start fanning yourself with your own hand.

You glanced back at Kyle, watching as his index finger dragged along the floor, collecting dust and a smidge of dirt from the floor onto his fingertip. You look a long sigh, spacing out and no longer focused on Kyle, just whatever he was trying to accomplish with his finger. K… X… L… E. Wait, that must’ve been a Y then? He was spelling his name, simply reminding himself. It felt good knowing that whatever he was learning on that device was working, but once you took another breath, your sliver of happiness faded with the smell. God… it felt like it was getting stronger.

There’s definitely something wrong in this school.

You didn’t have to wait longer to make up your mind, you had to go outside. Shuffling around and closing the window for caution of bugs getting in while you were gone, you set your bookmark in your book and slid off the bed. You tapped Kyle with your foot, raising your eyebrows and speaking a bit more faster. Your stomach felt… uncomfortable.

“Ky, cmon. We’re gonna go for a walk.”

“Mm?”

You didn’t have time to explain to him, but a part of you knew that he understood you. He’s not that… what’s the word? You pulled up your gloves and held your shielded hand out, trying to help him up. He groggily pulled himself up, following closely behind you with his hand sliding up to connect to the crook of your clothed arm. You walked down the stairs with him, hearing a faint whisper around the school. Cordelia… was awake? But why would she be near the living room?

When you peeked your head to look in the living room, she wasn’t there.

And when you walked around with Kyle, trying to find her to see what she could be muttering about, nothing. Odd, you decided to walk around more, but the more you wandered around you only felt more sick. Your little steps became into large, rushed power-walking steps. Something was wrong, if you couldn’t tell now. You went to her office, which was usually tidy and salubrious but seemed to be that she was working on something, at least you finally found her. The smallest amount of rational thought in your mind told you to not run outside of the house, but instead find her and ask her for some Advil or Tylenol, this had to be a migraine.

“Misty Day’s reincarnation might be a good help with this… if only she wa- what was that?”

Cordelia’s voice got louder as you stumbled into her office, she immediately turned to you, puzzled by your off-colored face and the sweat rolling down your forehead. She stayed quiet, letting you speak first. It was only then, you realized something.

“Why is Kyle here?”

But Cordelia’s mouth wasn’t moving. She wasn’t even talking.

I can’t really explain how you look like… but a good word is stunned. You stood there, looking around the area a bit as you fanned yourself with your free hand. Kyle was still behind you, his hand feeling up on the black woolen arm warmer you had on.

“Cordelia… ohmyfuckinggod..”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why is she awake? Go to bed. Why is Kyle here? Will nobody that boy alone, for fucks sake?”

You scoffed, a tad offended by her unspoken words. You wiped your forehead, shaking your head. “Something’s happening… Cordelia. Fuck, you’re so loud.” You breathily announced, letting go of Kyle and wiping your eyes. Your stomach started to hurt more, Jesus- you felt like you were about to throw up.

“I’m sorry?”

You walked over to her, discarding Kyle and his starstruck face as he looked around at the pretty colors and herbs around Cordelia’s little coven. For him, this was definitely a sight to see, getting a good look instead of crying over his new body parted tattoos, curtsey of his deceased friends. You stood in front of her, a hand placed on your stomach as you spoke, the acrimony rushing through your veins.

“The- the mind reading stuff. I can hear you… oh mygod- How do I make it stop? Fuck- my stomach hurts so much, ohmygod..”

And as her hand came to your clothed shoulder, she looked at you in the eyes with a concerned stare. “You’re hearing things again? Come here, sit down.”

She took you by the shoulder, walking you to a small wooden stool from the side of the room. Kyle, distracted by the sudden movement of you two, followed you closely once again.

“Cmhere, let me check your temperature.”

She took her hand up, and as her hand came up to your forehead, you felt your world burning around you and coming to a close. The heat was too much for you, and once her hand made contact with your bare skin, it went dark.

Well… not exactly dark.

5:12 AM.

Fuuuuuuck.

You must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the… couch?

Too early for jokes? Okay, sorry.

Your forehead felt completely cold, your drowsy eyes registering that you were staring up at the ceiling. Ugh, how long has it been? You brung your fingertips carefully up to your head, feeling on the rough ice pack on your forehead. When you pulled it off and placed it on the floor, you came to realize it was just frozen peas. Classic, actually- super fucking funny. You half-laughed, a closed mouthed smile forming on your face. Right… Cordelia must’ve put that on you. Where was she?

A sudden realization came to you, Cordelia touched your forehead. Shit, you’re supposed to know something, right? That mind reading thing that you have… what can you remember?

“…Cordeliaaa?” You called out, wondering where she was. Suddenly, a little- well, more like big- blonde guy popped up from behind the couch, squeaking a bit from your voice. You turned around, looking behind the couch and feeling surprised once you realized that Kyle was just behind the couch. He was sitting up now, with a cup of… sweet tea? He turned to you, his nose crinkling with his grin as the male cheered your name out, a sugary tone to his voice. He wiped his eye with the side of his hand, making it evident that he had been asleep also. He picked up the sweet tea from the ground, standing up and looking down at you, handing you the cup. The ice cubes in the drink had shrunken, almost barely noticeable.

“Hi, drink!” He chirped, watching you take the drink and take a sip out of it. Damn, not bad. You silently thanked him, the ineffable act of him waiting for you left you a little too speechless for your liking. You cleared your throat, speaking up. “Thanks, Ky’” You murmured, unable to hide the corners of your mouth turning upwards. “Your welh-welcome.” He replied, nodding. You placed the sweet tea on the table, exhaling out of your nose. He walked over to your side, away from the back of the couch, trying to help you up. You put your hands on his shoulders, shaking your head. “No… nah- I’m good. I’m gonna… sit down still.”

You heard Kyle think “Why?” as he stared at you for a bit, but he nodded and left you alone. He lowered himself to the ground, flinching once he had accidentally made contact with the peas. “Cordelia?” You called out again, turning away to the sound of her footsteps walking up to you. Her eyebrows were raised, and her arms were up in an… almost defensive state? She crossed her arms, calming down and lightly rubbing her right bicep with her left thumb. She spoke your name in a effervescent way, relieved to see you awake.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, referring to her anxious thought. You could tell she was trying to not think as much, whispering to herself before shaking her head. “Nothing… um- actually, I need to know, what did you… see?” She prevaricated, running her fingers through her hair. You looked down, thinking to yourself a bit and then back at her. Suddenly, your eyebrows knitted into realization, looking back up at her.

“Did you… toss the coffees I made for you?”

Cordelia stood there, also looking dumbfounded by your conclusion. She smiled, nodding. There was no point in lying anymore, I mean- you already knew. She sighed in relief, chuckling.

“Okay… yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Dude- I thought you liked my coffee.”

She ignored your words, walking over to you and putting a hand on the inside arm of the couch. “I’m glad you’re okay. I did some… tests- and, um, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine for now.” She expressed, feeling a little more confident as she spoke. “Just… don’t stay cooped up in this house. I know your powers are getting stronger, but you’re probably dealing with some major stress.” All you could do was nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She nodded back at you, pulling her hand away from the coffee and walking backwards for a bit, turning away.

“Delia.”

She turned back, raising her eyebrows. “Pleaaaase don’t ask me.“ She mentally spoke to herself, leaving you to close your eyes for a brief moment, but you brushed her thought aside.

“Uh… why… don’t you like my coffee?”

“I’m a tea person.”

“Oh… crap.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She spoke, walking out of the room. You sighed, your attention going back to Kyle, who was once again tracing patterns on the floor. He glanced up at you, pausing his actions and deciding to rest his cheek on the couch. He blinked at you a bit, expecting you to say something. You placed a hand on his scalp, moving around his bed (well, floor) hair to make it look more neater.

“So nice…” His blissful expression matched his imagination, shuffling closer to let you touch his hair. Your fingers stayed still while in his blonde locks, sighing. You definitely didn’t expect him to think that, but you definitely weren’t opposed to it. You carried on, carefully grooming him some more. Your brain went blank, not really worried on what was going to happen next or what you had to do later today. Just you, fixing a zombie’s hair, while the sun was getting ready to rise up and shine on you. Just complete nirvana. You pulled your hand back, wondering if there was anything else to smooth out or tuck away. Kyle looked up at you, probably expecting the same thing.

“So pretty.”

Oh.

You couldn’t help but smile, keeping your eyes on him as his soulless eyes crinkled with his crooked smile. You blinked, and then cheerfully sighed.

“Thanks.”

Kyle nodded, grabbing your hand and then putting it back on his head. Wait… he grabbed your hand? Damn, you couldn’t see anything about him, guess it must’ve went away…

Or, maybe, he just didn’t hide anything from you?

You’ll just have to poke Cordelia again to see why.

#kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you #kyle spencer x y/n #ahs #ahs coven #frankenwrites

53 notes · View notes