#I think the only place I can put it is on my bathroom wall (outside) since it's glass. Bit then I can't look at it all the time :(

[wookgerine]

🫶.

[facefullofsadness]

can u write bbangsaz x fem reader bsdm non-con with like mommy kink? thank uu

-💋

these newjeans ones always be so kinky bro like not my babies! 😭

content - idol!bbangsaz x 6th member!reader (idol!au), not a lot of build-up or exposition/story, smut (threesome, non-con, blackmail, shower sex, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, bdsm themes, mommy kink, degradation, corruption kink, anal fingering)

wc - 2173

a/n - why is it so hard to find bbangsaz pics lmao, anyway I've been obsessed w this for days, minji and hanni are so fucking fine in this (unrelated to fic content but I needed to share :D)

hanni and minji were really good at acting like they liked you.

you were the last addition to newjeans after them already being 5 for a few months was decided. those two were deadset on them being complete at five members, but when ador told the girls that you would be added as a last minute addition, the two oldest girls were livid. dani, haerin, and hyein didn't mind, if anything they were excited to have another unnie. but bbangsaz felt threatened by your presence.

hanni was already the best vocalist and minji was a good contender for center, but both of those titles were swooped from their hands when you joined. not only had they assigned you as main vocalist, but also center. you were ruining everything the two oldest members had built in the amount of time they were five, and they had to stop you from getting too much power.

you three had left and went home after practice ended, the three younger members staying to get some extra practice in. you headed straight towards the shower and ran the warm water, getting in and letting it cascade down your bare body, relaxing under the warmth. suddenly, you hear the shower curtain slide open, feeling a strong grip around your wrists pinning you to the wall. your eyes shoot open to see a half naked minji towering over you, a half naked hanni outside the shower, holding up the camera you guys used for vlogs, arms crossed and a mischievous grin on her face.

"wh-what the fuck are you doing?!" you ask confused, raising your voice and trying to break free of minji's grip.

"putting you in your place princess! because that's what you are right, ador's princess?" hanni taunts behind the girl in front of you.

"what are you talking about?!" you continue to try and break free, turning red as you realize that you're literally wet and exposed to the two girls.

"stop being such a brat and quit fucking squirming my god, it's annoying," minji growls, digging her nails into your wrists, making you wince in pain.

"you took everything we worked so hard to get, I think it's only fair you give us something in return," hanni's voice echoes through the bathroom.

you panic and your heart beat starts to quicken with anxiety, "please! don't do this! stop, let me go!"

"shut the fuck up and just be the whore we know you are y/n. let us do what we want or else we'll make sure that video ruins your life," minji says lowly into your ear, her tone and breath making you shiver with fear.

"you heard her y/n-ie, just be our little slut and you'll be justtt fineeee," hanni says in a mocking tone, setting up the camera on the bathroom counter, entering the shower with you and minji.

your eyes start to water with tears as minji holds your hands behind your back and sucks at your neck, hanni's hands groping your tits and rubbing her thumbs roughly against your nipples.

"please stop!" you cry, sobs slowly starting to leave your throat.

hanni shuts you up by forcefully making out with you, shoving her tongue down your throat and whimpering in your mouth. you squirm in minji's hold and try to move away from the two girls forcing you into submission, but much to no avail as their touches and mouths just become more and more greedy with every kick of your legs and flail of your body. the tears that fall from your eyes join with the warm water hitting your cheeks as hanni pinches your nipples, making you scream on her tongue.

she pulls away and you sob hard, "please! let me go! what do you want, I'll do it!"

the two girls start to laugh on both sides of you, minji's laugh on your skin creating vibrations. she sighs, "you stupid little girl, can't you see we're already doing what we want and you're helping us. if you want to help even more, stop fucking resisting."

you close your eyes and hang your head in defeat, letting the tears escape and sobs leave your mouth. hanni continues to laugh in front of you, minji leaving hickeys wherever she wanted. you watch through clouded vision as the girl in front of you gets on her knees, parting your thighs and bringing her face close to your center.

"please..." you weakly sob out desperately once more, but it leaves in a whisper left ignored.

you feel a tongue flicking at your clit making you scream out and cry harder. joining hanni's tongue were minji's fingers, sliding between your entrance and teasing your hole.

she chuckles into your ear, "are you fucking wet?"

you shake your head, denying the accusation of the question. in truth, your body was betraying you, it was so sensitive to the girls' touches and advances so of course, the pleasure started building.

"no? why are you lying to me? you're obviously enjoying this if I could just slide right in..." minji slips two long fingers into your tight cunt.

hanni's mouth sucked so perfectly at your clit, tongue flicking against it inside of her mouth, minji's fingers found the delicious spot inside of you quick, curling her digits repeatedly against it at a pleasurable pace. you absolutely hated how good the girls felt fucking you as you sobbed with your head thrown back over minji's shoulder, biting your lip to suppress moans.

your body continued to betray you, feeling your hips grind down onto hanni's sloppy tongue and fucking yourself back against minji's skilled fingers.

the girl behind you whispers into your ear, "you like this don't you? your pussy just begging to get fingered and eaten out by us. bet you've been fucking yourself to the thought of this like the little horny bitch I know you are."

moans slip from your mouth and continue to fall out at her words, the feeling of her fingers now ramming into you and hanni's tongue spelling her name on your clit being so overwhelming. you feel the mouth on your pussy smile at your loss of control over your noises.

you begin panting and your moans get louder the closer to the edge they bring you. "wanna cum you little whore? want us to fuck you till you're begging for more?"

your eyes barely make out minji looking down at you. you don't respond, instead chasing for the release they built up inside of you. but of course, they take it away just as quickly, feeling the fingers deep inside slip out and the tongue swirling your throbbing clit slurp for the last time. you whine and whimper at the loss of contact and your thighs tremble, hanni holding your hips so you don't stumble and fall over.

you hear the sound of the water being turned off before they drag your drenched body into your room, manhandling you onto all fours. you're so dazed and confused, you barely process the lacey material tying your wrists together behind your back. your body jolts and you moan out as you feel a tongue thrust deep into your pussy, head collapsing against your mattress. someone pulls your head up by your hair and you open your eyes to see hanni sprawled out in front of you, legs wide open with her bare cunt.

"go on then, stop crying and put your tongue to good use," she says before forcing your face into her pussy, muffling your moans as minji eats you out from behind.

you go to work between her folds, sliding your tongue over her clit and burying your face between her legs, whining into her core as you feel the same movements being done between your own thighs. hanni moans melodically into the air at your tongue on her, giggling here and there at the reality of the situation, watching you intently eat her out like you wanted every bit of her cum down your throat.

she taunted above you, "thirsty there? and here I thought you didn't want this, turns out you just wanted to please us huh?"

you open your blurry eyes to look up at her, a sinister smirk on her lips, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. she caresses your cheek as another tear fell down your face, your crying never having stopped, petting your head with her other hand.

"keep going y/n-ie, turns out singing isn't the only thing that mouth is good for."

she suddenly pushes your head down into her, forcing your face further into her heat, making you insert your tongue into her hole and suffocate with your nose against her clit. her moans rile you on and you flick your tongue against her walls, whimpering into her pussy while minji continues to pleasure you from behind. you feel her thumb rub against your clit with her tongue mimicking the same movements inside your cunt, slurping noises and moans filling your ears as you fuck yourself back against her mouth.

hanni ruts her hips against you, her breathing picking up and head thrown back with her mouth wide open and eyes closed. you quicken your pace of your tongue, licking against her g-spot and humming into her pussy, rubbing your nose against her clit. her grip on your hair tightens and she thrusts herself into your mouth one last time, cumming down your throat as her thighs tremble around your head. you hear her heavy pants as you slow your movements, hands caressing your head and face.

you're so close to cumming too with minji behind you, but she suddenly pulls away, making you scream in protest. hanni's gentleness disappears right away, pulling you up making you face her, your back against minji's chest.

"what? you thought you were just gonna get off so easily? there are things you have to work hard for, you know that surely."

you sob uncontrollably looking up at her weakly as you beg, "pl-please! I'm sorry! fuck, just let me cum! I've done everything you wanted! I know I've been such a bad girl, but mommy, I deserve it! please just let me cum! please please! I can't take it anymore, just fuck me..."

you ramble with tears flowing down your face. hanni's eyes are wide with amusement and minji chuckles behind you, the two of them exchanging a look. they've ruined you, bad.

hanni pushes you back roughly against minji's chest, using her front to pin you against her.

"oh y/n, you really are just our little plaything now, aren't you? I hope you know what you're so desperately begging for."

you feel her fingers slip into your pussy and pump fast, screaming out at the sudden pace. your eyes shoot open as you feel fingertips circle your asshole, collecting cum and saliva around the area before pushing in, making you let out a deafening cry. both of the paces of their fingers in you are merciless, pumping in and out of you like they're taking turns. hanni's fingers would push in when minji's fingers would come out, pushing in with a harsh thrust when the other's fingers would come out.

minji's teeth sank into your skin, leaving indent marks all over your body, hanni leaving hickeys anywhere your skin wasn't red.

"fuckkkk!!! oh my god, yes give it to me!!!" you're so fucked out, tears a constant stream down your face, eyes rolled back, drool seeping out of your mouth hanging wide open, head thrown back.

they never let up with the speed of their digits. the squelching lewd noises coming from the sheer cum leaking out of your aching hole is so loud, adding on to the girls' heavy breathing and your blood curdling cries. the pleasure burns, your holes taking so much forceful pumping, but it hurts so fucking good. your back arches, pushing your tits against hanni, to which she pinches your nipples with her free hand, adding onto the blinding delight coursing throughout your numb body.

you feel your stomach churn at the feeling of your orgasm coming in fast.

"please don't stop, I'm gonna fucking-!" you never finish your whiney sentence, cumming with a scream.

your pussy squirts juices all over everything, hanni's arm and thighs are covered, your sheets are soaked, minji's knees bathe in the drenched material of your blankets. you swear you blackout, body jerking with every aftershock of pleasure that rolls over you. you let your body fall, collapsing against hanni, her pulling away and letting you flop onto the bed.

you feel minji's fingers withdraw from you, hearing the digits slip out with a pop from your asshole. you feel them both get up from your bed, leaving your limp and lifeless body to recover by itself, not even bothering to untie you.

as your vision and consciousness fades, you hear the faint voice of one of them say, "that better teach you to stay in your place."

[ataraxiaspainting]

Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline. 

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!” 

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it. 

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things. 

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down. 

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The hot tub | Rafe Cameron x Reader

Advent calendar day three: Ski trip

Summary: Rafe invites you to spend the week with his family at their cabin in Aspen. Things may happen when you get in the hot tub after a long day going down the slopes

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p + v, slight choking, semi-public (outside), impact play (spanking once)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

As expected, the Cameron’s cabin in Aspen was breath-takingly beautiful. The walls of the living area were made of round wood, making it seem like you were living inside a tree…with a luxury decor. There were large windows, massive couches, cherry-wood tables, and a classic bear skin in front of the large fireplace. 

You felt like you were standing in a holiday Hallmark movie. 

‘’How many properties does your parents own?’’ You brushed your hand over the plush throw at the end of your and Rafe’s bed, smiling at how soft it felt. ‘’Don’t they have a house in the Bahamas?’’ 

‘’A lot,’’ Rafe replied while putting away some things in the closet. ‘’I lost count, honestly. My dad collects estates and Rose decorates them, it’s their thing,’’ he explained. ‘’I rent the ones we are not using...except the Bahamas house. We keep that one for family only.’’

You nodded, secretly wishing your parents were that rich. You could get used to vacationing in the mountains during winter break. It’s a weather contrast compared to South Carolina. 

‘’Do you come here often? Have you mastered a winter sports during your lavish vacations?’’ 

Rafe chuckled, closing the door of the large closet. ‘’I can’t ski, if that’s what you’re asking me. Or skate. Ice skating is Sarah’s thing.’’ He grabbed his toiletry bag from the suitcase and placed it in the en-suite bathroom next to yours. ‘’My dad forced me to take snowboarding lessons since I was a kid, but I was better at flirting with girls at the ski resort.’’

Shaking your head, you laughed quietly. ‘’What am I not surprised?’’ 

After everyone had unpacked, you bundled in your winter layers and headed down to the ski resort for some winter activities. You and Rafe rented equipment to go down the slopes while Sarah and Wheezie went to the skating rink. 

The afternoon was spent mostly falling on your ass and watching Rafe showing off. He was no professional, but you were impressed as you watched him do stunts — something you could never see yourself doing. 

When the sky started to go dark, you returned to the cabin to warm up and eat dinner. Rose’s cooking skills pleasantly took you by surprise, not expecting her to be much of a chef since she and Ward had a lot of money, but she made a mean baked mac’n cheese. 

‘’Are you sure?’’ you said when Rafe suggested you try the hot tub. 

You had never used a hot tub in the winter — with actual snow around. It sounded cold, but Rafe assured you the warm water would keep you warm…or else he would.

The sky was fully dark outside and snow was falling at a slow pace, creating a beautiful picture as you stepped out in your bra and underwear. When you packed for a trip to Aspen, you didn’t think you would need a bikini. Now you were regretting not bringing one. 

While the warm water sounded pleasant, you couldn’t help but think about how the chlorine of the hot tub will ruin your nice bra, so Rafe came up with a solution.

‘’Just take it off.’’ 

‘’I’m not gonna get naked in the hot tub,’’ you replied, shooting your boyfriend a glare as steam rose from the tub into the cool air. ‘’What if your family comes outside and wants to join?’’ 

‘’I’d rather they don’t. The sight of you in that bra and panties got me so hard,’’ Rafe said, his hand wandering up your thigh. 

You glanced down and through the bubbles of the underwater jets, catching the outline of his cock through his boxers, strained against the material. A light flush covered your cheeks, matching the color of your bra. 

‘’But if you’re that worried about anyone coming,’’ he continued, taking your hand and helping you step in. ‘’My dad strained his back when skiing so Rose is taking care of him. Sarah is probably trying to contact her boyfriend who was not invited on the trip, and as for Wheezie…I don’t know. She’s in her room, reading or watching a movie.’’

You sat on the edge and raised your gaze, eyeing the sliding doors. 

‘’No one is gonna come out here,’’ Rafe promised, reading your persistent worry. ‘’Except maybe a bear.’’

A new fear was unlocked. You turned to the other side and looked over the deck and into the dark forest. ‘’A bear?!’’ 

Rafe grinned, messing with you. ‘’I’m joking. There’s no bears here at this time of the year. They’re hibernating.’’ He hooked a finger underneath the delicate band of your panties, holding back from taking them off with his mouth. ‘’So…will it be with or without the panties?’’

Fuck it. 

You removed both items and let Rafe pull you in the water, the ripples from the jets causing sparks to tingle up your spine as they hit your bare cunt. It felt like using a nice shower head directly on your clit, but less strong. The pleasure was short-lived as Rafe settled you on his lap in a straddling way, a groan leaving his throat when your ass came in contact with his stiff cock. 

You bit back a giggle and loosely slid your arms around his neck. He was so beautiful.

‘’That wasn’t so difficult, wasn’t it?’’ Rafe asked, his hands sliding over your thighs and up your sides, making you feel a bit exposed. 

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his well-defined shoulders and chest, appreciating the time he had been spending with Topper and Kelce at the gym. They were always ruining your and Rafe’s plans, but those gym sessions gave him a body you wanted to bite into. 

You lowered your mouth to his, slowly kissing as the water moved around your bodies. The cold air had caused your nipples to peak, not yet submerged in the warm water. A shiver ran through you and, as if he had read your mind, Rafe’s hands moved to your breasts and began to toy with them. You sighed at the touch and ground your hips against his, relishing the feeling of his hard cock through his boxers as it rubbed against your clit just right. 

‘’I need you. Now,’’ you urged, breaking the kiss and reaching under the water to pull at Rafe's only piece of clothing, your earlier worries about someone catching you naked leaving your desire clouded mind.

Rafe nodded and pushed you off him, which left you confused. You opened your mouth to ask why he had pushed you off, but he motioned for you to turn around and grab the edge of the tub. A moan threatened to slip, realizing what he was doing. He was going to take you from behind. 

You heard the water swish as he moved behind you, and parted your legs so everything was exposed to his view. 

‘’That ass is so perfect,’’ Rafe groaned, giving it a hard smack, eliciting a pained squeak from you, before lining himself at your entrance, a mischievous smirk spreading on his face as he pushed the tip in — only the tip. ‘’Is that what you want, baby?’’ His tone was teasing, playing with you. ‘’No, that’s not enough, uh?’’ 

You whined, pushing back against him. ‘’Please, Rafe, don’t tease.’’ 

Giving in to your demand, he grabbed your hips and slowly pushed until he was all in, feeling your tight walls squeeze him. He moaned at the sensation, giving you a few seconds before starting to pull out until only his tip was inside you and slowly pushing himself into you again, doing this a few times. 

‘’Rafe,’’ you warned again, your core starting to ache, just wanting to be fucked senseless. 

Then, his thrusts were hard and fast as you gripped the edge of the hot tub, water splashing over the edge from the movements. You were holding back your cries, trying to be quiet, but the pleasure was too intense for you to remember. 

Rafe molded his front to your back as he kept pounding into you, kissing your shoulder as his hand was coming around your neck. ‘’You like this, baby? You like when I fuck your tight and pretty pussy?’’

You moaned louder, forgetting about the other Camerons inside the house. 

The next morning was going to be very awkward.

—

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[mischelmayleys]

CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany

[fir3ylolol]

i'll have what she's having

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Johnny has insisted that you match with him at his Halloween party, which you obliged. but he's acting sort of weird? wonder what's up with him...

tw: mentions of drinking

a/n: i was inspired by @sillygooselulu to write a little fluff, and why not make it Halloween-themed! first real attempt at fluff which was kinda fun :) but don't worry, the 100-follower special should be out soon!

word count: 1.21 k

Ao3

You put on the last part of your Halloween costume and look in the mirror. Smoothing your pants, you turn and admire how you look. A pair of brown shoes, high-waisted jeans, a red turtleneck, and a brown blazer. Of course, ever the film nerd, Johnny wanted to go as Harry and Sally. You walk to your bathroom to finish your hair and face, sitting down with a huff. You had no idea where Johnny was, leaving you to get ready by yourself. You curl your hair into loose, tease out 80’s curls, and apply a wine-colored gloss to your lips.

You notice your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter and pick it up quickly. Johnny’s cheesy grin flashes across your screen and you pick up quickly. “Hey, you picked up! Where are you? You on your way yet?” He’s almost yelling in your ear, and you back the phone away from your ear. “I just finished, I’ll be there soon. You feeling good?” you manage to say without a laugh, his volume a clear indication that he’s already started to party. “I feel great! Hurry up and get over here!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave now then.” You grab your large leathery bag, which Johnny insisted on for “accuracy”. “Woohoo! I’ll see you soon!” He cheers, and abruptly hangs up. Sighing lightly, you leave to his place, LA traffic is not any better than usual. It takes about 30 minutes to get there, and when you do, you notice how many cars are in the driveway. There are at least 50, blocking areas and creating a maze. But, ever the gentleman, Johnny runs out, waving his garage controls above his head. He slightly runs into the car and sticks his head through the window. “You’re here! Go ahead, park in the garage. I’ll see you inside, ok? Bye!” He leaves before you can get a word out, leaving you in a stunned state.

You shake out of it, and pull into his garage quickly, walking into the house through that door. It is loud inside, with bass vibrating the floor and shot glasses tipped over on the counter. You shuffle through the crowd in front of you, searching for Johnny. And there he is, sitting on the couch and laughing loudly with more people than you think the furniture can handle. But he sees you and bolts up. In a large, white cable-knit sweater and jeans, he wraps you up in a hug. “Yay! My other half is here, guys!” He turns you towards the crowd, which loudly cheers for him.

He lets go of you and holds one of your hands, smiling widely. “I missed you,” he giggles out. “How much have you had to drink?” You touch a hand to his red cheeks, which he hisses at. “Your hands are too cold. But I’ve only had a little.” You start to drag him towards a balcony, and he follows behind you with shuffling steps. “Come on, you need fresh air,” you open the glass door and get him outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ugh, fine,” he leans against the waist-height wall and looks out over Malibu. You stand beside him, wrapping an arm around him in a light hug. He turns to look at you, smiling just as wide as before, with slightly less red cheeks. “You know, you’re always so nice. I like having you around,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “I like being around man, it’s fun.” You laugh lightly as your face is shoved into his chest, pushing away a little.

Johnny pauses, face slightly dropping as he looks out again. “Hey, can I tell you something? Like, can you promise you won’t leave after I say it?” He sounds slightly serious, but drops it quickly, “Since people will keep asking why I didn’t dress up.” Taken slightly aback by his words, you try to join him in lightening the mood. “Unless you killed someone, I’m staying right here.” He pauses a little too long, and you panic slightly. “Y-you didn’t kill anyone, right??” He turns to you and laughs hard, leaning forward over the wall. “No! Why would I do that? God, you’re funny.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, you weren’t ready to keep a secret like that.

But he grows serious again, letting out what sounds like a nervous breath. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, and I really like hanging out with you. You’ve stuck by me, even when my movies weren’t that successful.” He’s trying to lighten the mood again, but it’s not working. He coughs slightly, then continues. “Hold on, I memorized my lines.” Confused, you cock an eyebrow at him, but you’re used to his strange antics. He takes a deep breath and starts talking again. “I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.” Your face slightly drops, and you recognize what he’s saying. It’s the speech at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ He continues, “And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's Halloween.”

He grabs both your hands, his grasp tight as he finishes, “I wanted you here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” You’re in shock again, taking a long time to process all of this. But he stands there, uncharacteristically nervous. God, how much did he have to drink tonight? He tends to be a little less careful when he’s stressed, and if his nerves now are indicative, he is close to wasted. You snap out of it, and look into his eyes, finally smiling. “Johnny, you really had to quote a movie to confess?” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling forward. “Don’t tease! You’re just so cool, and attractive, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. So I figured I could maybe pass this off as part of my character, and not something I was saying.”

“Wait, is this why you really wanted us to dress up as Harry and Sally?” He wraps his arms around you tight, snuggling into your neck. “Maybe…was it bad?” You hug him back, hands tracing along his back. “Nah, it was cute. Nerdy, but cute.” Huffing, he pulls away, “You could’ve left it at cute.” But he pauses again, searching your face quickly. “So…do you wanna…be with me?” You smile and cup his face in one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. He melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. You feel him smile, holding you tight against him. He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

[rotten-pomegranate]

Uhmmmm, I don’t have too many ideas…But how do the yanderes in the phantom troupe like the chase/brattiness ? I brain rot thinking about being chased in the deep woods around where a Yandere keeps their darling

The idea of being caught, of the different reactions. Of being dragged back to the prison of a home or even being punished still in the swamp or dirt <3

Hnnnn just thinking! I’ll try to come up with some ideas later on to quench my thirst for your writing🙏

Yandere Phantom troupe members chasing darling through the woods

Warnings: torture, punishment, hitting, yandere, chasing, some Noncon, spanking, oral, abuse

Characters: Chrollo, Feitan, phinks, shalnark, uvogin, machi, Pakunoda, shizuku, Nobonuga. I only did the characters people like ;-;

Also sorry this took so damn long it got lost in the void

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Chrollo

Chrollo was testing you, he wanted to know if you where well trained or if you needed some more disciplining

He makes sure you don’t hear the loud lock clip into place, he makes sure you hear him leave and drive away then he just waits

When he hears you leave he gives you a few minutes to see if you’ll change your mind, when you don’t he calmly yells your name

When he actually starts chasing you he’ll make himself as quiet as possible, you aren’t gonna know he was close until you get tackled into the dirt in the middle of the woods

He wouldn’t been gentle of you behaved and just walked back to him like you should’ve but not now, now your going home and getting punished

Feitan

Feitan wants you to run, he wants an excuse to drag you down to the basement and lock you in the chair just like he’s don’t to do many victims before.

He says he’ll be gone for a few days and that he’s leaving you unchained so you can eat and use the bathroom without trouble, but in reality he’s just waiting in the shed to see if you’ll take the bait

He locks the door but leaves the keys in his nightstand right where he made sure you saw him put them days earlier

When he sees you leave he grabs you and lets you know you have a head start, catching something right away isn’t fun after all

When he gets you just hope you didn’t excite him to much because if you do he’s gonna pin you down and fuck you before you can even get back to the house

Phinks

he didn’t have a lot of hope, he wanted to know if you would chose to stay with him if given the opportunity to leave

Obviously you wouldn’t, he kidnapped you, yelled at you for everything and abused you in the most intimate way possible just because he was bigger and stronger then you, he knew you couldn’t do anything

So when he left the door cracked open of course you took the opportunity, you did not expect to see him standing right outside it though, pressed up against the wall so you wouldn’t see him

He garbs you and slams you against the wall, tells you how the door is open and he’s giving you a thirty second head start before he catches and punishes you for trying to get away, he also lets you know your punishment is a broken leg so you better run like hell

Shalnark

Shalnark is out doing somthing and he sees you on the cameras, he’s sad that your trying to get away but not surprised

He’s not even worried, he has cameras all over the woods by his house and your prison

He finishes what he was doing and drives home at a normal speed, but when he gets there it all changes, he lets his presence be known and he yells that if you come out now the punishment will be fast and easy, maybe he’ll spank you once for every camera he seen you on, or maybe you can suck him off and call it a night

But no of course not, you had to be difficult, you had to keep running, now what he’s gonna do is run after you and beat you up when he finds you, all with that sweet little face of his, smiling down at you while he kicks you in the stomach

When he brings you home it’s gonna be hell to, just him using your tied up body as a sex slave, and he won’t out a antenna in you either, he wants you to remember it all

Uvogin

Uvogin is a beast but he’s not stupid, not stupid enough to leave the door to the house unlocked no he did that purpose, he just wants a good chase, one that he gets a reward at the end of, your the reward by the way

He waits in a tree until he sees you start running down the pathway he let you decorate with flowers, how ungrateful he’ll be sure to make you show him how grateful you are while he’s using you body

He’s makes sure you know he’s fallowing you, he’s loud and he’s talking about the stuff he’s gonna do to you when he gets you, talking about how he naught break you hips while he’s gripping them and using you like a fleshlight or how he’s not gonna gag you because he wants to hear you

He’s gonna fully tackle you to the ground when he’s close enough but he won’t do it right away, he does want a chase

He’s pinning you down and ripping you cloths off right there in the dirt under the moonlight

When he’s done he leaves, you better fallow him in your pitiful fucked out necked form if you Wanna clean up and get a bath when you get home even though as soon as you walk through the door your just getting fucked again and again no matter how much you scream no

Machi

Machi genuinely forgot to lock the door, she was focused on something else and just left it open

She was half way to her destination when she just got a hunch that something was off and she was right there you where just disappearing into the woods when she pulled in to the driveway

She’s mad at you for running and herself for giving you the chance to

She uses her nen threads to catch you, putting the all around to you can’t move without getting small painful cuts from invisible threads

When you finally stop she’s gonna calmly walk towards you and drag you back to the house, she’s not gonna punish you to bad because she did leave the door unlocked so she’ll do something simple like a spanking or having you sleep on the floor

Pakunoda

Pakunoda this sweet women was just trying to give you some freedom, she was letting you move around the house freely but only the window in your room was sealed shut

She gets home with some sushi and soft silk pyjamas for you and her but your nowhere to be found, she’s so sad the you left her after she was so nice

She understands she kidnapped you but she really thought you where getting used to her

She’s so gentle when bringing you back home, your emotions are already so wild at the moment she doesn’t wanna set a permanent image of herself as scary

She so calmly brings you to your room and talks to you about how she hates punishing you but she has no choice

She spanks you with a paddle and makes you count, she gives you thirty spanks before she holds you and gives your the pyjamas and sushi, she’s so sweet about it, telling you it could’ve been different if you just didn’t run away

Shizuku

She forgot to lock the door, poor girl is trying her hardest to manage having you locked in a room while continuously forgetting everything

She’s just drinking her morning tea when she sees you running into the forest outside, she’s so confused at first, like no that can’t be them, they are sleeping in their room

Your weren’t, she went to check and finds out it was you, she gets blinky to tear the forest apart so she can find you

She literally doesn’t care, she just puts you back in your room and gives you breakfast

She has no shits to give

Nobunaga

Nobunaga takes it the hardest he gets home and just freaks the fuck out

Screaming, ripping your house apart and then going outside and doing the same to the forest

Your poor little self will be running for dear life while he’s talking about you never getting anything ever again

Another one that completely jumps on you and takes the breath out of your lungs

He’s just holding you into the dirt by your neck saying how dangerous it is out here and how you guys have to go back to the house now

He’s gonna make you show him how sorry you are as soon as your in the door don’t worry

[daengtokki]

Good Morning

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 3.6k

rating: fluff/explicit/18+ ಇ

comments: domestic idol!Seungmin! this was my very first Seungmin/skz fic! I wrote this as a precursor to blind date before I even knew I was gonna write blind date. hope you guys like it!

☁︎ ⋆｡ ﾟ☼ ｡

You wake early…much earlier than usual, you think. The blackout curtains have been pulled together tightly, and you smile in your half sleep thinking of Seungmin carefully closing them, making sure no sunlight finds its way to the bed. He can’t force himself to sleep late, but sometimes he stays in bed, wrapped in his blanket and playing on his phone until you finally begin to stir.

Not today, though. You roll over to greet his empty, fluffed up pillow, and a carefully placed Pochacco plushie. You let out a breathy laugh and roll to your back. He’s not romantic—not the in traditional sense. He has other ways of showing his affection, and you love it.

Outside the half closed door, the tiniest clatter echoes through the hall. The sound of him swearing in a surprisingly sweet tone, a bang on the counter. He mumbles something else, and the walls of this apartment are thin, so no room for secrets. He’s making breakfast.

Hearing him gives you the boost you need to get yourself out of your tangle of blankets, but before heading to the shower, you open the curtains a few inches to let in a warm stream of sunlight. The room is tidy, save for a small pile of dirty laundry on your side of the wardrobe. As much as you try to mimic his good habits, that one hasn’t really rubbed off on you yet.

Another bang from the hall makes you jump, and you wait a moment for more. Instead, the steady swell of music fills the house.

———

“Minnie, I would’ve done that!” You emerge from the bathroom in a plume of steam, and he’s there, snapping the sheets and blankets smooth again.

“Liar.”

“I thought you were making breakfast, I heard you dropping things out there.”

You wrap your towel tightly around you and head for the pile of clean clothes you’ve yet to put away.

“I did,” he says, turning from the bed to look at you. He runs a hand threw his hair. His natural color, you think, looks best on him, but it rarely stays that way. So you enjoy it while you can. “You know you take very long showers.”

All you give back is a goofy smile, and he returns it before sitting on his freshly made bed. He eyes and nose crinkle dramatically with his smirk, and you feel your face warm up as you turn your attention back to getting dressed. The towel slips to the floor as you fumble with your things, and his eyes are on you. You don’t look back, but you feel his gentle gaze press against your skin, and you blush even more. He’s seen you like this more than a few times, and it should feel natural, but he manages to make stupid little things like this feel brand new.

The music he put on earlier still trickles into the room, louder now that the door is wide open. You slip into your t-shirt and shorts just in time for his arm to reach around your waist and pull you against him. His body is as warm as the shower you just climbed out of. His other arm slowly snakes over your shoulders, and he pulls you even closer as he says something quietly under his breath—but you don’t quite catch it. You push your face into the bend of his elbow and place a kiss against his skin. He smells sweet, but not shower sweet. Just Seungmin sweet.

“You gonna be clingy today?”

“Me? No, never.”

His voice is airy and boyish, which you know is mostly an act, but every time he puts it on you get butterflies and your breath gets caught in your chest.

He lets out a sigh and his warm breath tickles your ear. Then his lips are hot against your neck. A tiny, innocent moan escapes you, making him pull you in even closer.

“Well…maybe you should be.”

You free an arm to reach back for a handful of soft hair. His lips part into a smile and teeth graze against you sensitive skin. But it only lasts a moment before his grip softens and he lets go, and the cool air of the room hits you.

“No, I’m hungry.”

When you look back at him, he cracks a smile that grows until his teeth part, and his tongue pokes out to lick his lower lip.

“Let’s go eat!”

You silently forgive him for teasing you as he leads the way toward the small kitchen. It’s already clean from whatever mess he may have made, but the scent of something savory is hanging in the air. Two plates have already been made up, and next to them, freshly made coffee.

He clicks the music off on his phone and replaces the sound with the television. You wait patiently for him to put on whatever drama he’s currently watching and join you at the table that sits halfway between the kitchen and living room. Seungmin put it in that spot specifically for this purpose.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be free today,” you mix your rice and eggs together in a messy pile before taking a big bite. Seungmin watches you as he drinks his coffee. “Unless you’re going somewhere dressed like that.”

He cocks his head to one side, and then the other as if he’s thinking, before shoving an entire fried egg into his mouth. It’s one of his favorite bed shirts, a little big and stretched around the neck. It’s hanging in a way that shows the curve of his shoulder and just a bit of collarbone.

“You don’t like my shirt?” He adjusts himself and his collarbone disappears underneath. The hair parted at his forehead falls forward as he examines himself and smooths a hand across his chest. When he looks up again, he’s looking at you through curtained eyes.

“No, I do.” You nod as you reach across the table and tug the sleeve down until his shoulder is out again. Before pulling back, you run the pad of your thumb up the soft angle of his neck and stop just underneath his ear.

Seungmin leans into it and his eyes begin to close. “Nooo you don’t, you just want the body underneath.” He combs his fingers through his hair again and licks his lips when his eye connect with yours again. He keeps a serious face for a long moment before his laugh breaks through and bounces softly around the room.

All you can do is smile back at him from behind your coffee cup.

“You do, right?” Now he’s leaning forward, elbows on the table, face cupped in his hands. He doesn’t realize how intense his gaze is, even when he’s just goofing around. The heavy, half-lidded eyes and upturned lips are fighting each other for dominance.

The silence in the room, save for the forgotten tv in the background, is only broken by the sound of your chair sliding back along the floor. “Do you want more coffee?”

Seungmin begins to squeak out a sound of protest, but stops himself and nods solemnly. He’s not very good at being teased, he can only dish it out. The difference between you and him picking at each other is he revels in it; but you can’t help but feel a little guilty every time.

As soon as his mug is full, you lean forward and place a long kiss on the top of his head. Than another on his temple. The corner of his mouth twitches upward. You manage one more on his cheek before he sweeps his head to the left and catches you with his lips. And he holds you there for a long moment, but it feels like you’re holding him there, so now it feel like a game of who’s going to pull back first. And neither of you like losing.

Seungmin cranes his neck up further, deepening the kiss. You open up a little, just enough to bite softly at his lower lip. He smiles, mouth now open against yours, but he doesn’t pull away. The taste of coffee is all over him. He shivers a little when you wrap your hand around the back of his neck and squeeze.

The soft groan he lets out goes right down your throat, and your knees feel like they might give out. You thought you could outlast him, but now you’re not so sure. You push forward anyway, because it feels like he can read your mind when you’re this close and you don’t want him thinking he can shake you that easily today. When you swing your body over his lap, he instinctively grabs your hip and steadies you on top of him, pulling you in and closing the gap between your bodies.

The force causes the front legs of the chair to lift briefly, and you get that dizzy feeling of falling, but Seungmin reaches for the edge of the table and avoids disaster. And he still hasn’t let go of your mouth. His tongue finds its way inside and you feel like you’re drowning. You cup both hands over his face and gently pull him away, inhaling like you’ve finally broken through water.

Refilling your lungs is almost distracting enough to ignore Seungmins proud grin. Almost. The skin around his lips is pink and already a little red from your teeth. His eyes shine up at you as he wipes roughly at his mouth with the heel of his hand, and his other kneads deeply against your inner thigh. It tickles at first, making you jump against him. But then his moan knocks the air right back out of you. There’s silence for a few moments; even the tv has gone quiet. You remove your hand from his face and slide it down his chest. He’s breathing heavily, and can hear the shakiness in his breath.

Seungmin is always cool and composed in these moments, but occasionally you time things just right, and the slightest touch sets him off like a firework. The noise that escapes him when your palm moves between his legs sends a shock of pleasure straight through you.

It makes you think he’s been waiting for something to happen; he’s been so busy for weeks and your time together has been limited—more limited than usual. He can’t always admit when he’s feeling needy, but he’s very good at finishing what either of you start.

His head falls back to expose his neck, and you dive into him. You can taste the saltiness on his skin, but he’s sweet to you. Always soft and warm and sweet.

Fingers slowly climb over your hips and up the small of your back. He’s walking them delicately across your skin until the hem of your shirt is lifted higher and higher. Goosebumps break out all over you, and he notices.

“Ooh, am I doing that?” He leans forward a bit and places a kiss on your throat.

You take the opportunity to run both hands into his hair, slowly raking your fingers through as you gently move your hips against him again. The union of both touches sends him into overdrive, and he pushes his face into your neck as a quiet whimper slips out.

You can help but giggle at his desperate little sound. “Minnie…”

“Don’t laugh at me.” It’s just a whisper, but you can tell that he’s got his innocent act going. He pulls back so you can see his face, but his eyes are closed and he’s biting down on his lip. He looks like he’s drunk, “Minnie what?” there’s a little attitude in his voice.

“Let’s move to bedroom.” You kiss lightly along his jawline.

Moving from the chair to somewhere more comfortable would be preferable, but using your legs now seems impossible.

He wraps his arms around your waist and sits up a little, almost like he’s testing out his leg and core strength. Seungmin doesn’t typically pick you up carry you places, especially not during sex. He thinks it’s cheesy. But sometimes necessity supersedes, and he rises to his feet with surprising ease. He hitches you up a little further and examines your surprised face.

“What?”

“Just, uhm…wasn’t expecting that,” You pull him closer until your cheek is nestled in his hair.

“Don’t be cute.”

“You first.”

“No,” he says matter-of-factly, and covers the short distance to the bedroom in a few long strides.

You prepare yourself to be dropped down onto it from his height—on par with his usual style of foreplay, but instead he sets you down gently on his side of the bed. He stands there for a moment, letting you look him over. The small bit of sunlight coming through the blackout curtains cuts him straight down the middle.

You start with his face, so serious and apathetic, but he’s not. His eyes give him away every time. His skin looks like honey in the gauzy light, and his oversized shirt clings to his skin, showing the long line of his torso. You grab a handful of his sweatpants and pull until his knee comes down gently at your side. Then his whole body is over you, palms pressed into either side of your head.

The shift in pressure where his hands and knees make contact, the change in temperature as he surrounds you, the soft sounds he makes while he’s thinking about what to do next…it fogs up your brain and you have to close your eyes for a moment. They snap open when you feel his hand snake under your shirt. He caresses the skin there as he lifts it higher, lips following up and up until he can get you out of it completely. His comes off next, messing up his hair in the process. That little grin when he shakes his head to fix it wakes you from your temporary stupor, and you pull him down by his hips until you can go after his swollen lips again.

His cock is hard against you, and you need to get out of your clothes faster. Your hand sneaks down to unbutton your shorts, but Seungmin stops you and works on the button and zipper himself. He tucks his thumbs into the waist of his pants and slowly tugs them down over his hips.

You watch eagerly, as if it’s not something you’ve already seen many times before. “Hurry up,” you regret it as soon as the words leave your mouth.

He stops and looks at you, but his eyes are big and wet, “you’re so impatient.” He says it in his sweetest voice as he grabs your hips and pulls you a little further down the bed. He makes himself comfortable between your thighs and kisses slowly along the softest, most sensitive parts, purposely driving you crazy. Again he moves to your stomach, only kissing, but drawing every one out to be as long, slow, and wet as possible.

Your fingers disappear into his hair, grabbing gently but not pulling, then slide down to the nape of his neck to knead into the muscle. He likes that. He moans heavily as his tongue glides across your nipple and up until he’s at your collarbone.

“Seungmin?” It comes out in a heavy whisper. You brush the hair from his forehead and place a kiss there when he lifts his gaze to you.

“Hmm?” He props himself up on one elbow and stares down. The eye contact holds you for a moment before you run a firm hand along his stomach. Your fingers reach his waistband and continue forward until they graze the tip of his cock. He moans and rocks his hips into the touch so he can feel you more. “You want it?” His voice is husky, but needy. And it feels more like a statement than a question.

He knows you want him, but you give him a nod anyway before pulling his face down again to place kisses on his brow, and down the side of his face until you return to his lips. The bed shifts a little and you can hear the rustle of fabric, and then from the corner of your eye, his last piece of clothing falls in a heap next to yours.

“Yes,” you say it firmly, and little desperately, because the anticipation is becoming too much for you.

He always does this, though. He loves the wait. It doesn’t matter how hard he is and for how long. He’s so good at being patient.

The warmth of his open mouth on your neck and the slow, silky touch of his fingers sends your hips upward. You stifle a moan, making what comes out sound like a growl in your chest. He sucks against your skin, deep enough to leave a mark, and his fingers work even harder to make you roll beneath him. He moves his thumb it light circles over your clit.

“No no not yet…”

He stops and looks down at you with eyes that seems a little darker than they did a few moments ago, but nods. His hand wraps around yours and he lets you stroke him a few more times before moving himself into a better position.

When he sits back and looks down at you, your entire body is suddenly on fire; with lust maybe, or it could be a little bit of shyness. Being so vulnerable never seems to get easier, even with Seungmin. Sometimes when he leaves for too long and returns, it feels like something resets—it feels like that first time again.

“What’s the matter?” He crawls over you until you’re face to face, but one hand tucks under your knee and lifts slowly. The head of his cock moves over you. You can feel the heat coming from him. Something flashes in his eyes. The uneasy moment is shaken away by his touch.

“Nothing, pup.”

He uses his free hand to maneuver himself. “Good.” He says it so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

He pushes himself into you gently, slowly, taking great care in feeling every bit of how wet you are as he slides deeper. This feeling of fullness is what you’ve been craving, and he knows exactly what you like. He makes sure to let you savor every second of it. That’s what he likes. Mouth hanging open…breathe shallow and hitchy. He needs to see what he does to you.

He pulls back, letting you get used to him, and then easily finds a pace. The soft moans coming from him drive you crazy, and a smile spreads across your face. He returns it with his own smile, throwing his head back for just a moment to let out a tiny laugh.

Sometimes he gets cute when he loses himself in pleasure. That smile is stuck on him now, and you love it when he’s not too serious. You take his hands into your own and pull him back down against you, making him laugh even more. But he doesn’t miss a beat fucking you, giggly or not. Seungmin nuzzles his face into your neck and gives you his most playful growl. His pace quickens when you wrap your arms and legs around him.

Lips find each other again, and Seungmin growls and nips gently as he kisses. Hips roll smoothly into yours, creating friction in just the right places, and the gentle rocking of the bed makes the contact between you so much more intense.

“Minnie…” you start, but your breath catches in your chest, and your brain can’t seem to form the words you need.

He doesn’t reply, though, just finds your gaze and holds you there. His eyes are half-lidded, but they flutter shut every few seconds. He’s trying to hold himself together, but you know he’s already getting close. You slow him down by putting a hand against his hip.

“Too much?” His eyes widen and his face softens.

“Slow it down…” You run your thumb across the skin below his lip, red and swollen from your bites. “Take your time.”

He listens, but the way he rolls his hips into you pushes you up toward the headboard with every thrust, and while he might be lasting a little longer now, you’re not sure you will.

A moan breaks the breathy silence. Seungmin’s moan.

He picks up his pace again—this time his hand reaches down and finds your swollen clit. Sparks go off behind your eyes the moment he touches you. Two fingers circle lightly at the same pace as his thrusts. Your legs open further, knees drop, giving him as much space and getting him as close as you can manage.

You want it to last, but you need to come. You slowly give in to his touch.

The only thing you need now is his full attention, and as soon as your eyes meet again, you fall apart. The last thing you see before your eyes roll to the back of your head is his cocky smile.

When your body finally relaxes under him, Seungmin takes the opportunity and grabs your hips. He lifts them, squeezes his fingers into you, and fucks hard. Faster and faster, still managing to find just the right spot, and you feel like you could come again. You wrap your legs around him and hold tight. A few more well timed thrusts, and the muscles of his stomach tighten—you feel his release in the way his body stutters for just a moment as he empties himself inside of you. He’s quiet until he finally exhales, and a long, satisfied groan comes with it. You can hear the breath catching in his chest and throat as he holds himself steady.

There’s more silence between you as he wipes a few damp strands of hair from his eyes. His fingers grab and slide from your hip down to your outer thigh. Only then does he pull back and free himself.

“Come here,” you use your other leg to nudge gently at his side.

He climbs over you and carefully lays his body next to yours, face in the bend of your neck. His arms reach around your waist to pull you closer.

Your wrap yourself around his shoulders, hands rubbing and scratching gently at is back.

Seungmin breathes in, sighs deeply, and relaxes against you. “I’m so hungry.”

[marimariposaposa]

unspoken confessions | pedri gonzález

pairing: bf!pedri x fem!reader

content: flufff, mentions of sex and pregnancy

word count: 1.1k

summary: everything that pedri wishes he could tell you

7:35am

he loooves your lip balm. the way it tastes, the sweet flavour of it and how it nicely enhances the act of kissing you, making your lips all the more soft and plush for his own. he loves using it, stealing it from your bed side table in the early mornings before he leaves for training while you soundly sleep next to him, having you apply it for him; your frame stood tensely concentrated in front of him, focused face when you swipe the applicator over his lips and smiling when he pouts at you jokingly. it’s even gotten to the point where his friends have noticed.

“why do your lips always look wet?” ferran asks him, football at his feet and pulling at his jersey to let the cool air circulate underneath it. “you don’t wear lip balm?” pedri raises an eyebrow and ferran laughs, “i think i’ve put it on a total of two times in the past month”

but he especially loves it when you put it on your lips, only for the sole purpose to peck his and transfer it over. you call it ‘saving product��� but the both of you know it’s just to steal a kiss, and he wants to keep it that way. sharing is caring i guess. it reminds him of you, in the way scents bring back memories—he just associates soft lips with you.

he also just loves to be in your space. it’s kind of a given—you being in a relationship and all, but he takes it to another level. he’s there when your brushing your teeth, sat on the toilet lid and watching you in the mirror, sometimes he even takes the toothbrush and moves it around your mouth for you. wanting to be in your area and admire you from as close as possible. safe to say he’s completely whipped with just your presence, your aura, your warm energy that just calms him.

he’s there when your cooking. getting all in your way as you squeeze past him to grab some more ingredients, hands placed flat on your shoulder blades when he peers over your shoulder to see what exactly your doing and leaning down to put his head on your shoulder. “you’re in my way” you whine, turning yourself around to give him a quick peck. “im helping!” he says, suddenly taking an interest in chopping the vegetable that you’ve left out on the counter, only to get you off his back. “yeah, helping to be a pain in the ass.” you scoff when he returns back to his old ways, observing your every move and hugging you from behind like some sort of teddy bear.

if you let him, he’d even sit on the edge of the bath while you peed, not wanting to stop the conversation you were having and lose his train of thought. blabbering away while his gaze focuses somewhere on a tile on the wall. same way he’d let you get on with doing your makeup in the mirror while he takes a quick pee break, talking while he peers over his shoulder. but if not, he’d stand outside of the bathroom door like a sulking little toddler and continue the conversation by shouting at the door, making sure you can hear.

something he’d never admit though (at least not until your ready) is how much you he really wants to get you pregnant. honestly it borders a breeding kink. it’s said offhandedly during sex, something small like, “im going to get you pregnant” but he’s being dead serious. just say the word and he’s there, boxers down and ready for some baby making.

it obvious he’s good with kids, there’s been multiple cases to be observed. but when he watches you do it, whether it be with a niece/nephew, a sibling or even just randomly in the street because babies seem to just be drawn to your presence it sparks something within him. something primal that urges him to populate the earth with mini hims and mini you’s.

you’re so gentle, so tenderly it warms his heart the way you let them wrap their tiny little fingers around one of yours, squishing their cheeks while giggling.

even when you’re baby sitting, rushing around the house with a friend’s child latched onto your hip and a phone attached to your ear to chat mindlessly to a friend while you clean, he can’t help but imagine that to be your child. together. a child that has equal parts of you and of him, to see your personality in them in the way they would protest waking up in the mornings—like you always do.

that’s why your late night chats about how many kids you guys want, what their names would be are his favourite parts of the day, face in the crook of your neck to plant soft kisses on your skin while you giggle about your future.

pedri is also not a sharer. he is not the kind to just give his friends a bite of his food for them to taste, he can be a bit stingy in that sense.

“can i try this?” one of his friends would say, “you can try whatever you want next time we come here. im not stopping you.”

but for you…for you he’s sat at the restaurant table, taking a bite of his food then reaching it over to your mouth and waiting for you to take a bite too, awaiting your approval. he loves it. “how is it?” he asks eagerly, and you hum a delicious note, spreading a smile on his face. for you he takes sips of the same drink. he awaits earnestly whenever you order a drink from a local café, for you to let him take one sip and have that warm feeling he gets when he knows that your lips have just been around the straw. it’s childish, but he sees it as an indirect kiss. 

his friends would be shocked seeing him be unfazed when you steal a fry of his plate at lunch, jaw falling open when he even offers one to you and not immediately becoming defensive. they would discuss in the locker rooms how much he loves you, teasing him about how badly he’s been star struck.

“pedri, share some that ped-D next!” gavi pranced around the locker room in a sing-songy voice after the first brunch you had with his friends, finally introducing yourself to everyone as his girlfriend—jersey slipped over his head and over his shoulders to look like hair, or maybe a make-shift vail. who knows.

“shut up man” pedri groaned, sighing as if he was mad, but the blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away instantly.

end.

angel’s note: something differentttttt something cute. hope its ur liking!!!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, don’t be shy:)

[thesecretcornerintheroom]

Don’t forget about me

Pairing: Kid (Dev Patel) x Female reader

Warnings: Tears, blood and injuries, angst and a lot of smut

🔞+

Word count: 1,897

CRASH! That’s the sound u heard that awoke u from your sleep. It was a hot summer night. The only sound in your room was an old fan running at the highest setting and the crickets from outside. You turn to the window, shocked to see your nightstand chaotic with all your belongings knocked over, the window wide open, and you look to the floor to see Kid sitting under the window, panting and holding his side. “did I wake you?” He said through quick breaths. His eye closed from sweat getting in, and his other eye squinting at you. You looked at kid's hand clutching his side, realizing he was bleeding. “Oh my god, what happened?” you said, discarding your thin bed sheets, running over to the window, closing it, and pulling the curtain forward, squatting next to him to meet his eyes on the floor. You grabbed his face, looking for any more bruises out of the ordinary from what he would usually get in a fight. He had a slight cut above his eye and a bruise on his arm, but the worst was the cut on his side. At least you prayed it was just a cut. You quickly put your arm under him to lift him “quickly to the bathroom.” as he rose, he grunted.

“I’m assuming you did more than just fight tonight,” you said, focusing more on the needle penetrating his skin with the thread to close the open gage on his side. Cause him to grunt in pain and take a breath. Kid was leaning on the sink now with his shirt removed and his sweatpants hanging low on his hips with his damp hair covering his face, peering down at you. Your curls were pulled back, and all you had on was an oversized t-shirt. “I think I’m getting closer to finding him,” he said, his voice deep but calm. You finished sewing him up. “You're not even close to him yet, and you're already hurt. This can only end worse,” you said, looking him in the eye. You knew his situation, you knew who he was talking about, and you hated that his heart was this unsettled, but you couldn’t blame him. “Take a shower. It’s too late at night for you to go home, and seeing how you came through my window and not the front door, I’m assuming you're not safe,” you said, looking him in the eye and his deep brown eyes they held so much emotion and thoughts you knew he was exhausted.

You were in your bed, the hot air sticking to you. You recounted how you got here and met the Kid. You were conducting a research study on poverty and culture. The affects it has on different marginalized countries. That’s how you ended up in India. You meet Kid because you were snooping in places you weren’t supposed to be. You asked questions to some dangerous men. Kid who was secretly stalking you because he watched everyone in the community, he came in and saved you. Ever since he’s been in contact with you (it’s been three months, and you have one more month left), you felt the bed dip beside you.

Taking your eyes off the beige wall of peeling paint, you turned to see a kid in bed lying on his back, his hair wet from the shower. He didn’t have a shirt, a patch adorned his stitches, and he wore a pair of shorts you washed the last time he came over from one of his excursions . His eyes were glossy and heavy and slowly turned to you. “I have to do this. He didn’t even know her name.” His voice was heavy. You turned to place your hands on his face, your thumb caressing his cheek as the tears fell from his face.” “You’re gonna let this consume you, and I’m afraid of how this will end,” I whispered. He looked at you, his eyes saying everything. If I asked him not to hunt down the man who changed his life for the worse, he would have felt torn. I knew the idea of not getting revenge was too strong over choosing me. I let out a deep sigh, holding back my tears. “This will be our last night like this,” you said, your voice dry. You could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. Kid's eyes became heavy, his body rigid. He softly shook his head. No, he knew what you meant by it being our last night. You leaned over, slowly adjusting to the thick air. Your nose met his nose as we kissed. A deep sigh was released from him. He drew the kiss as he rose from the bed, placing his hand on your thigh, gripping your thigh. You let out a gasp. You could feel the textures of his scared palms on your skin and how rough and warm they felt on your skin, taking mental notes of how that felt cause you knew you wouldn’t be feeling this forever.

I kissed him harder before pulling away. “you gotta be careful; you still hurt.” Before I could even regain my breath, he was kissing me again roughly, causing me to whimper. He kissed me as though he knew the moment couldn’t last forever. I felt like I saw stars from how great the kiss felt. “ lay down,” you said softly. Kid looked at you. He lay back down on his back, Kid, usually quiet, but you could tell he was lost for words. You rose off of the bed a little bit to remove your panties as you sling your legs over his waist. You sat on top of his lap, and you felt his hands slowly move from the side of your thighs to grabbing your waist.

You slowly started to move on his lap, your core rubbing up against his clothed member, causing him to moan.” Shit,” he said, his voice dry. You're where grinding on him at a steady pace, trying not to to hurt him. You could feel his member growing hard with his shorts and you becoming wetter. You grabbed his chin to have him look him in your eyes as you leaning over him so you lips caressed his. His mouth opened softly, panting from the feeling you were stirring up within him. You started to move your hips faster. “ promise me you’ll be safe. You said, your lips touching his as he let out soft moans. “Okay, yes, okay,” he said, moaning, looking me in my eyes. “ when this is done, you come to me, okay? You know where I’ll be,” you said, looking deep into his eyes, knowing he understood exactly what you meant.” he nodded yes, breathing deeply. He grabbed you and flipped you on your back now on the mattress. His eyes darkened, and his body glistened with sweat. “okay,” he said before he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and removed it from you. He disregarded his pants. He lowered his head to her neck. His teeth lightly grazed your skin before he nipped at your spot, causing you to moan. As he teased the spot on your neck, moans slipped from your mouth. He started to work his way slowly down his body, leaving bites and kisses on the way down your body, leaving you to shiver as his warm

Lips touched your body you felt the breeze from the fan was in your room take away his warm kisses. Before you knew it, the kid had your legs open, and his hands wrapped around your leg. You gasped moan as you felt him drag his teeth down your inner thigh, kissing and licking your inner thigh. The sting causes you to gasp in surprise from pain, followed by pleasure. You realized he was leaving a hickie on your inner thigh. Uuuh, you said, putting your fingers in his hair near the nape of his neck. “Don’t you forget about me,” he said in a deep voice. Before you could respond, he was blowing on your clit before he went in for a kiss on your clit, causing your body to rise off the bed. You felt his tounge circle your clit back and forth back and forth at a fast pace.was he? Was he making out with your clit? “Please, please, you cried out as he started to suck on your clit. You could feel yourself becoming wet, pooling around his mouth and dripping down your legs. You started to move your hip, subconsciously gripping the sheets. You were panting. No words were coming out. The only sound to be heard was a Kid grunting and your panting, and the sound of the silver fan running in the room. You could feel your breath begin to form in your stomach. “dont stop,” you said, loving this feeling of a tear forming in your eye. “Please, you croaked.”’you could feel Kid doing everything, licking, kissing, penetrating you with his tongue. You were unraveling so fast. The feeling finally hit you, causing you to moan. You felt the release, and your head was dizzy. The air was thick—you were trying to gain your breath. Kid moved back up to your face and kissed your nose. “I’ll find you again, I promise he said, looking into your tear-stained eyes. He entered you without a second thought, looking you in your eyes cause tear-stained eyes were now blurred, and you rolled them at the feeling of him interning you. He grabbed your one leg and brought it to his hip. His hip was now controlling the pace going in you at a steady pace; you were kissing your mind. “Come for me again, okay he said,” as his pace became more demanding. My moan became louder, his eyes not leaving my mind as his face fell into

My face. I love you, Kid said, his brown eyes holding so many emotions. Promise me you’ll still want me, he said as he went faster. The feeling of his warmth inside of me made me bite my lip and moan, his hips moving at a faster pace. He wrapped my leg in his

Waist as his finger played with my clit he started to Let out a slow moan, “Say it,” causing me to gasp, clasping onto his arm. “I love you I said, strained, focusing on this feeling. My body had this sensation that I knew wouldn’t last forever, but I wish it could last a lifetime. As he’s playing with my clit and his hips are moving, I can feel his movements becoming erratic. He let out low grunts. “Shit,” I said, that feeling turning in my stomach agin my legs started to shake “im finna cum” I said, and he grunted in agreement. The feeling was powerful. The air was thick, and our moans were in sync. We both were coming at the same time. I wrapped my leg around kid and brought him

Closer to me, he came within me. I felt the warmth of him within me. He was panting, eyes big, looking at what we had just done. He removed his still-swollen member from me

Seeing both of our juices together inside

I am now pooling on the bed. “Now I have to

Come back to you,” he said, sitting on the bed and looking me in the eyes.

[1d1195]

Traditional VIII

Well this is the fastest I've ever written. Sorry to leave you hanging on part 7 like that. You can read Traditional here.

I actually wanted this part to be longer but I think I stopped it at a good spot to continue with what I want in the next part but the next part will be a hot minute before it’s posted also part 9 will pick up right where this leaves off.

Warnings: angst (see I remembered the word this time), death mentioned, mourning, (etc.)

“Can I help you?”

Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly.

She stopped by the bathroom to take stock of what she looked like as soon as she got to the floor. She put the bag at her feet and stood in front of the sink counter and gripped the edge. The pain in her arm from her slip ached from the bruise forming on her forearm and rippled up the length of her arm as she held onto the counter. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked in the mirror.

Ill. She looked ill. From a green complexion to her red eyes. Her nose was cold and reddening by the second making her look like she had a cold. Bloodshot eyes and overall, just the pallor of a ghost. Her head ached and it was a dumb idea to come back to work. Surely, she would mess up more things. But there wasn’t much else she could do and nowhere else she could really go.

Slowly she closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest in defeat. Then tilted her neck all the way back to the ceiling. “Goddamn it,” she hissed to herself. Grabbing her bag, she walked swiftly back to her office. Maybe she would just sit there and stare at her computer screen until Harry finally fired her.

Niall covered the microphone with his hand. “Darling?” He asked curiously as the door to her office opened. “I’ll call y’back,” he dropped his phone back to the receiver and he hurried to her little space. “I thought—”

“I have no where to go,” she said curtly. Niall didn’t deserve her abrupt tone, but it was the only one she could give. This day was so awful, and she had nowhere to go except the one place she would most assuredly run into at least half of her problems. And that was her best option.

Without a debit card, she had no way to get to the hospital. Her apartment belonged to Harry and right now she didn’t want to be anywhere that was associated with him and the part of her life with him outside company walls. Her laptop was broken and even if she could use it her brain wouldn’t function.

“What are you talking—your apartment?” He reminded her with a question in his voice.

“You mean Harry’s apartment?”

“Love, all things considered, he wouldn’t kick you out or something... he wouldn’t do that to you. Not even on his worst day.”

She shook her head. That’s not what she meant but it was a new fear that twisted her stomach in knots on top of everything else. The tears flooded back into her vision. “I don’t want to talk about any of this Niall. I just want to work so I don’t have to think. If I have even a second to think about anything but work, I’m going to explode, and I can’t do that in front of you—”

“Sure, you can,” he said encouragingly. “Come on,” he said and tugged her out of her seat and into his office. She was too weak to do anything but follow obligingly. He gently guided her to the sofa he had in the room and hurried to his desk. He scribbled something, practically ran back to the door, and smacked the paper on the front before shutting it, blocking out the rest of the floor.

“What’s that?” She asked, curiosity getting the best of her as she looked at her hands in her lap.

“Says ‘Do not disturb. Meeting in progress.’”

“You’re going to get in trouble because of me,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry, I know the boss pretty well.”

“That’s especially why.”

“He left for the day.”

She blinked. “What?” She asked softly. Other than being sick, Harry didn’t leave early. Ever. Most often he stayed late. The rest he left on time and not a moment sooner.

“He wasn’t feeling himself,” Niall said with a shrug. “Think you know why,” he was so casual about it. Her heart fluttered with worry despite how angry he was with her. How was she supposed to feel? She was in love with him. It didn’t matter. “Go on, then. Please tell me. I’ve been dying to help you as much as you help me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t Niall. You’re my boss—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, love. You’re also the love of my best friend’s life. Would you just talk to me already?” She looked at him as if she was really seeing him for the first time. She couldn’t believe he said that out loud. Now she understood why he put the note up. He wasn’t doing this as her boss. This was Harry’s best friend. If she could dream or hope about a future with Harry, he would be one of her best friends, too. “Pretend I’m not your boss right now.”

She apparently didn’t need much more encouragement for her already bubbling emotions to flow over. Poor Niall took it all in stride. Every word that exploded out of her, all the tears, everything. It wasn’t like when she talked to Harry, and it definitely wasn’t like when she talked to Louis. She told him all about the last twenty-four hours from Hell. She listed every inconvenience, every heartbreak. The debit card, the mean coworker, her dad, how her coffee tasted bad and got everywhere, her laptop was broken, and Louis and Eleanor were her only friends, and she couldn’t even go see them. “And of course, Harry hates me, so I didn’t get to see him last night,” she finished blubbering. She didn’t give lots of details on most anything, just the coworker since that was one of the only ones that she could see him dealing with. Not that she wanted him to.

“To be fair, I think Harry hates me, right now,” he smirked sadly.

“That’s almost worse,” she sniffled.

Niall rolled his eyes as he rubbed her back soothingly with the palm of his hand and watched her dab her eyes with the tissues he got from his desk. “He hates me because he thinks I’m stealing you away because you didn’t tell him any of that. And he’s mad that you didn’t want to tell him. He thought your relationship was evolving and you took like ten steps back without a word. Christ darling, I’m mad you for not saying anything about the harassment. That is not okay. You’re not plain, you’re lovely. She’s just jealous.”

She found it interesting that he agreed with Louis’s assessment. “That’s what Louis said, even before she talked to me.”

Niall shook his head. “She was extremely cruel for no reason, I’m so sorry, love. You did not deserve that.”

She shrugged awkwardly, defeated still. Even getting all of that off her chest. “I am plain. It’s why I was so worried about my... situation with Harry...I don’t...” she took a deep breath. “You’re not my boss right now?” She repeated his statement as a question for reassurance. He shook his head.

“Just a really good friend,” he promised. “I won’t tell Harry,” he added for good measure.

“I don’t even think he’ll want to sleep with me because I’m so ordinary and...” Despite his talk with Niall and that fact they were both aware of her relationship with Harry, she still didn’t like bringing it up. Plus, the untraditional details were lost on her, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to Niall awkwardly.

“Love,” Niall smirked. “Harry is...infatuated with you,” he promised.  “You don’t have to worry about any of that kind of thing. He would—look I don’t want to say it because it sounds like locker room talk and I don’t want you to think he and I talk about you like that. We don’t, I promise—but that’s not something you need to worry about. I’ve never seen him like this about anyone he’s ever been involved with romantically one way or another.”

It made her heart hope, and she hated it. She was prepared for defeat. Harry wouldn’t be in love with her anymore. They wouldn’t get dinner on Mondays or watch movies on Thursdays. There would be no more little sleepovers where he would be sick and accidentally tell her he loved her and forget by morning. She shook her head. “Niall, I...” She swallowed.

“Please tell me you’re in love with him, I’ve been dying for you to say it almost as much as he has.”

The smallest pause. Niall wasn’t her boss. “Of course, I’m in love with him. How can you not be?” She asked, face blushing, as she stared at her hands.

Niall sighed. “You need to tell him what you told me,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not his problem. I’m a big girl and...I have to handle it.”

“But you don’t have to do it on your own,” he promised her. “I don’t know everything, but I see the way you work, and I know bits and pieces of what Harry is willing to tell me. I know you want to fix every problem that crosses your path for anyone that has one. If you walked into your office and spoke to the you that sits at your computer, how would you help?” He asked. “Would you tell yourself to keep it all bottled up or take a hike and deal with it yourself? Or would you, the person who helps everyone with anything they may need, help you?”

She took a deep breath. The first bit of clarity over the last twelve hours was finally reaching her ears from Niall. “I would help.”

“Then help yourself, darling. Please. Tell Harry.”

She closed her eyes and nodded solemnly. “I think I have to go to the hospital first,” she said to Niall. “But I don’t have a debit card or a ride.”

“Call Harry’s driver. He won’t care. Or I’ll take you, I don’t mind at all,” Niall reached into his wallet and pulled out one of his plastic cards. “I think this has a 25,000-spending limit,” he smirked. “I’d be impressed if you used all of it in one weekend,” he smiled. “Bring it back Monday,” he shrugged. “Definitely use it to get a new laptop when you have time.”

Sucking her lip into her mouth she awkwardly took the card “Please don’t tell Harry about...her...”

He frowned. “Darling,” his tone was so disapproving. It sounded like that was going to be Niall’s first call. Maybe second if he called the bitchy woman down to his office to fire her after the sweet girl left.

“He’ll fire her.”

“As he should! She harassed you!”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please, Niall,” she whispered.

He sighed bitterly. If even one thing that happened to her over the last day didn’t happen, he wouldn’t have listened. But she had been through enough and he didn’t want to be the cause of any more of her anxiety. Besides, once he was officially forgiven by Harry, he would ask for front row seats to her exit interview. “Okay, darling. I won’t. Go to the hospital. Then you have to go to Harry’s.”

*

Harry’s driver was kind throughout the ride and didn’t ask her a single question about why she needed to go to a hospital. In fact, other than asking if she wanted to listen to a certain type of music, he didn’t ask any questions. “Won’t Harry notice?” She eventually asked.

“No,” he shrugged one shoulder as he passed towards the streets that used to be home. She lived an hour away now, but it felt like an entirely foreign country right now. “Probably not. If he needed me, I would probably send another one of the drivers from the company,” he said simply.

The remainder of the drive was silent. Her heart beating erratically with every closer turn to the town she left. “Do you need help?” He asked when they arrived at the hospital. She shook her head steeling herself for the horribleness she was about to endure in so many emotional forms.

“No... thank you,” she said gratefully. “And... if you have to leave... I understand. But could you please...don’t tell Harry.”

“Of course, Miss,” he smiled encouragingly. Taking her work bag with her, she stepped out of the car and headed into the hospital.

*

It was a little over an hour later that she left the hospital with one less parent in existence. Although, she hadn’t had two parents since before her brother died, she felt saddened knowing that it would never be amended. And for her mom, it would never be the same. She would always be alone, now.

Naturally, it didn’t seem to bother her mother all that much. “I’ll never forgive you,” her mom said with tears in her eyes. “You can leave now.”

When it came to her parents, there wasn’t much she could do but listen. Part of her wanted to appease them and hope that eventually they would love her again. So of course, after she said goodbye there was nothing left for her to do except listen to her mother’s request.

Her loss didn’t feel as sad as it should have. Probably because when her brother passed, she didn’t just lose her brother. She lost her best friend and her parents all in one swoop. Mourning her brother at age sixteen when her friends were buying prom dresses and going on college tours in hopes of meeting college boys was a tragedy that Shakespeare wouldn’t write.

There was nothing like mourning the death of people who were still alive and lived with you every day.

When she exited the hospital room, she called the driver once more who told her to wait five minutes and he would pull around so she wouldn’t have to wait in the cold. She stood outside anyway, for the full five minutes letting the cold wash over her. She was already numb. Everything that had happened in such a short amount of time was numbing her. The cold didn’t even hurt because she was already in so much pain.

All she wanted was to see Harry. Her chest ached at the thought of being held by him. It would cure her broken heart, she was certain.

She sniffled and a few stray tears spilt over her lash line. Without her realizing, she got more teary as she waited, only noticing when his driver reappeared. “Miss,” the driver said hurriedly. He was rushing over to her on the sidewalk reaching for her bag and offered her a tissue from his pocket. He placed a hand on her lower back to guide her up the sidewalk to the car. “Is everything alright? Are you—”

She shook her head, tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She opened the door herself as he looked on with worry. “I’m fine,” she whispered but her voice broke on the word fine. “Can you take me to Harry’s?”

*

The closer she got to his house, the more anxious and sadder she got. As he parked in the driveway, she strongly considered telling him to take her back to the apartment. However, she all but promised Niall she would come here. Maybe these tears would make him listen at least for a moment. Wringing her hands together, she sat silently, awkwardly in her seat before the driver even made a move after several minutes. With a deep breath, she swallowed and pushed the door out of the way. “Can you wait five more minutes in case he really hates me, and I need to leave?” She asked.

The driver chuckled dryly. “He doesn’t hate you, but I’ll wait,” he said.

She made her way across the path and up the steps to his front door. She knocked and was prepared to stare at her feet the whole time she waited for Harry to open the door. Maybe she even planned to stare at her feet if he was willing to talk to her. She was going to beg or cry (probably both) just for five minutes to explain everything. Five minutes to try and fix her broken heart.

“Can I help you?”

Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly. It felt like she was swallowing her tongue. She backed away, nearly losing her balance as she did. She wanted to be embarrassed about almost losing her balance but even standing upright she felt like she was swaying and the only thing she felt was betrayal and she had no right to feel that way.

“Whoa, hey,” the girl said reaching for her before she fell back off the steps. She regained her balance and felt like her stomach was going to heave up anything she had eaten—which wasn’t the time to remember but she realized she only had a bagel and a coffee this morning almost twelve hours ago.

Of course, Harry would find someone else. He was...him. He had money and he could have any girl he wanted. Someone beautiful. Someone who didn’t have all the baggage that she did. Someone who didn’t hide from him and someone who would do what a companion like her was supposed to do.

“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” She asked tilting her head curiously, trying to figure out who she was. Like this was normal for her to be answering the door and for her to be standing there. “Are you alright?” She asked gently.

She wished she wasn’t nice. It was making it harder for her to be mad. Seeing this kind woman opening the door to the house of the man she was in love with would have been so much easier if she could have been mad. But she was just heartbreakingly sad. “N-no...I...I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she repeated hurrying down the few steps and nearly missed the last one tripping into the yard. So much so, she lost one of her shoes. Worse yet in her fit of non-embarrassment, just total shock, she left it there. “Oh my God,” she whimpered to herself. She was now truly worried she would throw up. She turned quickly and practically ran back for the driveway.

“Kitten?!” Harry shouted from somewhere in the house.

“Hey, wait!” The woman called suddenly.

“Fuck,” she heard Harry hiss as she hurried back to the car, tears falling quickly down her cheeks as she awkwardly limped without her shoe the path to the driveway. With her head start she thought she really might make it in the car and drive away before Harry got to her. But he had much longer legs...and he wasn’t bogged down by missing a shoe. “Goddammit! Love, stop!” He shouted running across the yard. She pulled the door handle quickly trying to get away from this house, but the door smacked shut at the same time. Harry’s hand pressed to the window while the other grabbed her arm right where it bruised. She inhaled sharply in pain and winced. Harry dropped her arm like a hot potato, he released a breath out of frustration. “Kitten, stop,” he was out of breath from his short run—but it wasn’t the run making him breathless but the thought of losing her at this moment. She wanted to look up at him and see those perfect green eyes, but she was so scared. “Look at me, please,” he begged. But her eyes stayed glued to the driveway. Harry was only in socks, and she thought that was cute. His feet in socks. It wasn’t the time, but her brain was operating on no sleep and way too much trauma for one day.

Her face crumpled in pain and she shook her head. She couldn’t look at him, if she looked all the pain would boil over and she would start crying and never stop. Why didn’t Harry deserve some woman that would be there for him the way she couldn’t be? Why wouldn’t he want someone beautiful and not plain? Someone who wasn’t so young that she was still in the internship phase. Someone who didn’t need his money or a job. Someone who was brilliant enough to help him with whatever his company and he himself needed.

“Hey,” the woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her. It was gentle and out of instinct she turned to the direction of the woman that was currently amplifying just how terrible her day could get just by existing. It wasn’t her fault either. She really thought the girl was beautiful and lovely. She was kind to not sneer at her as a sniveling mess. She sniffled looking at her curiously. The beautiful girl handed Harry her missing shoe then stuck her hand out to introduce herself. “M’Gemma,” she said softly, apologetically in tone as she smiled at her with a terrible look of pity directed toward her.

Even though one of the only things she prided herself on was being intelligent this had to be the dumbest thing she had ever done in her whole life. She was speechless. Couldn’t even say her own name as she held her hand out awkwardly and (fortunately for her) instinctively for Harry’s sister to shake.

At the same time, Harry crouched to the ground and placed her shoe back on her foot holding her ankle so gently, like she might break. “I was just going, truly,” Gemma smiled at her sympathetically. “I’ve heard loads about you. I’ll meet you again sometime, yeah?” She asked quietly. Harry was silent throughout the interaction. His breathing erratic as he was hoping she wouldn’t leave. “Bye Harry,” she kissed him on the cheek and Gemma went to the other side of the car and gave the driver a wave before sliding into the back seat. The car drove away leaving her alone with Harry.

“Kitten,” he whispered softly.

“I’ve had a terrible couple of days,” she sniffled tears clouding her vision again. The fear of Harry finding someone else nearly ruined her completely. She was lucky that wasn’t the case. But she still had to have this talk that she promised Niall.

“I know y’have love, I just...Niall texted me...and Louis is worried...and... my love,” his voice was so gentle. It pulled at every string in her heart.

She started to say the speech she had planned in her head when she arrived. Before she saw Gemma. “I know you hate me, but I have nowhere else to go,” she whimpered, and it was all too much, and she finally let her knees give out as she melted to the ground. She covered her face and cried.

“No. Baby, I don’t hate you. Not at all. M’so sorry about everything,” he promised crouching beside her. “Let’s go inside...s’too cold t’have y’out here,” he lifted around her waist to help her stand. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her because whatever demons she was fighting right now had made her weak. But she seemed overwhelmed already and he didn’t want to add to that any more than he already had by not realizing sooner that Gemma was talking to her without her knowing who Gemma was. So, once she was standing again, he held her hand and pulled her back to the house.

*

Gemma had been extremely helpful in working through Harry’s emotions with him. “You really think Niall of all people would do that to you?” She rolled her eyes.

Harry felt like her little brother at that moment. He didn’t too often anymore because he was always busy with his company, and he was always busy doing things that he never really got a chance to just be the younger sibling and have Gemma take care of him like she used to when they were young. “I think I love her, Gem.”

“Ya think?” She rolled her eyes. Harry sighed. The pair of them were sitting on his sofa and sipping tea. They ordered out for dinner and were now chatting so Harry would calm down. Harry never left work early, but he was so distraught and angry that something had to be done. Gemma came right over, and he told her everything about the girl of his dreams. Unbeknownst to Harry, Gemma was thrilled that Harry cared so deeply about someone in this capacity. Like Niall, she noticed it was so different than anyone he ever involved himself with up to this point in time. She couldn’t wait to tell their mum.

After venting for almost two hours and working through what he needed to do next, Gemma chatted about herself and caught him up on her life. In comparison, it wasn’t much. Work was good and her dating life was good. There wasn’t much to report.

Her phone vibrated. Hey Gem. It was Niall. I know he’s pissed at me, but can you tell him to look at his phone? It’s an emergency.

Frowning, she responded to Niall while she called out to Harry. “Harry, look at your phone. Niall said there’s an emergency.” He was putting the mugs in the sink when Gemma gave him the directions. As he put the phone in his hand, his stomach dropped. He hadn’t looked at it in hours.

He had a message from Niall and a message from an unknown number claiming to be Louis. His chest felt tight. The only thought he managed was that something was wrong with her; and that was the worst kind of thought.

Niall’s said: Harry...you have to talk to her. It’s bad.

Then a second message: Really bad.

He frowned feeling worry for the sweet girl. He almost called her instead of reading Louis’ message, but there was a knock at the door, changing his plan as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He tapped on the message from Louis. “I’ll answer it on my way out, have a good weekend, Harry!” Gemma called cheerfully. He didn’t even respond because he was busy reading.

Louis’ message was a long one: Hey Harry, it’s Louis. I stole your phone number from her back in August without her knowing. She would kill me for messaging you, but we’re on a plane and... well... she said she was feeling poor and headed to your house. But El and I just figured out WHY she’s poorly. She’s ignoring her phone, or something... Can you please tell her to call me? She probably won’t even tell you, so she won’t be a bother, and I can’t tell you through a text message... I’m sure she doesn’t want to interrupt our weekend either, but... please have her call me back. Or you can when you have her in a stable place... Thank you for taking care of her... I don’t think I’ve ever said that before to you... I don’t trust her with very many people. So, thank you for taking care of my best friend.

It took him a moment to pull himself from the message and that the other voice outside was the sweet girl speaking to Gemma at the door.

“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” Gemma asked gently.

“N-no...I... I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, and Harry shook his head trying to reach the fact that she was there.

“Kitten?!” He shouted. By the time he raced to the door, she was nearing the car. He wondered when the driver got there briefly, but he was nearly sprinting, almost pushing Gemma to the ground, to make sure he got to the car before she did. As she pulled the door handle open sniffling as she desperately tried to leave, he smacked the door shut immediately. He would not let her leave.

Something was wrong with her arm because when he reached for it, she winced in pain and Harry thought he would murder someone if they hurt her. The messages from Niall and Louis scrolling through his mind. “Kitten, stop,” he whispered as she tried to reach for the car again. “Look at me please,” he begged. It had only been a day, but he was a lovesick man. He missed her face and he wanted to see the beautiful eyes he loved so much, the little windows to her soul. Even if he just saw them for a second. But she kept her eyes to the ground. Fortunately, at that moment, Gemma introduced herself.

That’s when Harry put it together that she thought Gemma was some other woman. He didn’t even find it funny, although he wished he could have. He felt so terrible she thought so little of how much she meant to Harry that he would find someone else in less than twenty-four hours.

Now, they were inside. “Where do y’want to sit?” He asked. “The sofa or the bed?”

“I don’t—”

“Love. Please, where will you be most comfortable?” He whispered gently.

“The sofa,” she answered.

He softly nudged her to the living area, taking her coat off before she sat and then he crouched to take her shoes off. Lightly, he pushed the sleeve of her blouse up because he didn’t forget, and he saw the nasty bruise on her arm that made his heart ache with anger. “What happened?” His voice was short. He thought of the messages both Niall and Louis sent him. “Louis texted me. Said you’re ignoring his calls.”

She shook her head. “I don’t even remember the last time I saw my phone.” He frowned. He was glad she was here. If he tried to call her and she didn’t answer, he would have gone mad with worry.  She sniffled. “Harry,” she croaked.

“M’here, kitten,” he promised, and he pushed himself to kneel between her legs and he placed his hands on either side of her face. It felt like fire to touch her like this. He craved it so badly. Not having it at movie night and not seeing her until five minutes ago...and knowing she was hurt? His heart was broken. “Tell me, please,” he begged. “I’ll kill someone if I have to.”

She sighed. “You have to listen to everything before you say something or I won’t be able to finish it all,” she whispered.

“Sure love,” he nodded obediently.

“And you can’t kill or fire anyone.” He didn’t respond because he wasn’t sure he could make that promise to her. Especially if someone caused that bruise. He pressed his lips together, knelt between her legs and held her face to keep her gaze. “It’s not going to make sense, so much went wrong so fast,” she told him.

“I can keep up,” he promised. There was a moment of pause as she collected all her thoughts trying to figure out how to begin.

She began her story. “Someone stole my debit card, and I don’t... As a rule, I don’t use my credit card... at least not right now. I have too many bills and worries to be using it. I can’t wrack up any more debt... So, I basically have no access to my account or money for a week,” Harry took a hand from her face to reach into his pocket for his wallet. That was an easy fix, and he was sad it started off so easy because that meant it was going to get much worse.

She shook her head. “Niall already gave me his, because I needed it to get to the hospital,” she said, stilling his hand from opening his wallet. She gave his hand a squeeze at the sound of Niall’s name. But he didn’t feel jealous. He did in the moment seeing his best friend holding the object of all his affections so comfortingly in his arms. He didn’t know what was wrong and he was irrationally angry that Niall wouldn’t say—even when he didn’t know at the time either. He wanted to be the one comforting her. That was all.

“Hospital?” He questioned his eyes falling back to her arm.

“I’m jumping ahead. It wasn’t for me.”

He frowned. Putting the wallet on the coffee table he would thank Niall later for offering his help while Harry was being an idiot. “Go on,” he said, and he moved to sit beside her. He stretched his legs out on the chaise section and pulled her over his body, so her legs laid over his lap. This way he could see into her eyes and still touch her. He kept one of his hands wrapped up in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I was going to try and figure out how to transfer some of my money on my laptop to a temporary gift card or something… and maybe work on my internship reflection for school but... my laptop wouldn’t turn on,” she mumbled. “And then at the same time it occurred to me I can’t even buy a laptop because I don’t have a debit card.”

“We can go buy you a new one tomorrow,” he promised.

“S’not the point,” she mumbled. “You’re not supposed to interrupt,” she reminded him.

He squeezed her hand. “M’sorry.”

“The woman from the meeting who thinks I’m stupid because I’m an intern,” she whispered the description. “Do you know who I’m talking about?” Harry nodded, curious as to how someone he only saw at meetings had anything to do with this story. Harry almost forgot about her. She was right. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, he hadn’t even had a chance to debrief with her the wonderful job she did in person and to tell her not to worry about the woman from the meeting.

“You’re not stup—”

She continued without letting Harry compliment her. “She told me that you wouldn’t sleep with me.”

Harry blinked rapidly a few times, shook his head trying to clear it. Surely, he missed something to get to this section of the story. “What? I’m sorry...what do you—”

She looked at their hands held together. “She came to my office, unprompted, while I was sad about my laptop, and she just said I was stupid and plain, and you wouldn’t sleep with me because I wasn’t your type. I’m not special or smart and just because I had one good idea and I work well with Niall didn’t mean you would want me... an intern.”

He had no idea the condition to hear her story was not firing an employee was for the benefit of some cruel woman who was just so wrong. He felt speechless because everything in those two sentences was wrong. She wasn’t plain, she was so goddamn beautiful she haunted his every thought. Add in the fact she was so brilliant and kind. Harry couldn’t get enough of her, and the idea of sleeping with her...

Again, he if it meant he could have her there in his life forever, he wouldn’t care about being intimate. But otherwise, he would kill to be so close to her. “Kitten,” he whispered.He was so mad. The rage in his chest was consuming. She would be fired. For one reason or another. Harry didn’t care what he had to do. He wouldn’t let anyone speak that way to another employee. But especially not the angel seated beside him.

“It gets worse,” she mumbled.

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. He didn’t know how that could be possible, but he supposed he would find out. “Please continue, then.”

“She knocked my coffee all over my desk,” she said. “And it got all over my skirt, my laptop, the floor, my desktop, and then...I went to clean it and I slipped and that’s how I got this bruise,” she gestured to her arm. Instinctively, Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over it. Not only did he want to fire her, but he also wanted to kill her. The poor girl knew exactly what Harry would do under the right circumstances and that was why she made restrictions on hearing the story as such. She was good, Harry would give her that.

“That’s when you came in,” she mumbled. “I was so sad and heartbroken I couldn’t speak to even tell you what was wrong, and I knew how sad and hurt you were that Niall was comforting me... but Harry, I would never do that to you, ever. Especially with your best friend. Regardless of this... relationship we have... I would never... it’s a—”

“I had no right to be that mad,” Harry mumbled quietly. He had long since forgiven her. She didn’t even need forgiveness because she didn’t do anything wrong.

“And then you cancelled movie night,” she whispered brokenly. Somehow this sounded like it hurt her worse than the bruise or that stupid woman’s comments. Harry’s frown deepened and he rubbed his hand on the back of his head awkwardly.

“I was so sad,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have—”

“It gets worse,” she repeated. He was hoping she was done. The idea it could get worse...

Harry wanted to take her heart out so he could sew all the holes that she was opening and then give it back to her. And Harry couldn’t even sew but whatever he did had to be better than whatever wounds laid in her heart. “I was a total zombie today at work. Niall was avoiding me per you, I think. He told me to go home after lunch so I could... I don’t know I think he just wanted me away from him.” Harry frowned. That was what Niall wanted. It was all Harry’s doing because he yelled at Niall and accused him of things he shouldn’t have as his best friend. “So I was walking home—”

“Walking?! It was freezing out, kitten.”

“Can you... this is the worst part...” He was silent. But in his head, he was arranging for a car to follow her for the rest of her life and would be training a driver to somehow coerce her into the car if she refused in sub-arctic temperatures. “My mom called,” she said. Harry’s heart stopped. “I went to the hospital.” His eyebrows quirked up and he pressed his lips together. After another brief moment of utter silence, “my dad died,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he cooed. “Baby, m’so sorry.”

This had to be one of the worst days in recorded human history. No wonder Louis’ message was so long. He was probably freaking out. “I went to the hospital...my mom...she won’t forgive me and...” she took a deep breath. “I had nowhere else to go and I just wanted you and I don’t even know if that’s fair after all I’ve put you through over the last day. So, I came here. I’m sorry for wanting you, I don’t want to—”

“Kitten,” he reached for her face and pressed his thumb over her lips so she would stop speaking and stop breaking his heart. She was here. That meant the story was over. Thank God. “I want you here. Always,” he promised. “I want you.” The relief on her face was somehow one of the most heartbreaking expressions she wore throughout the duration of her story. Harry wanted to cry at the thought. He pulled her toward him, face pressed to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. One hand snaked up her back to hold the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he kissed the space of her forehead just by her hairline before closing his eyes completely content having her there.

There were so many things that needed to be addressed. She needed to call Louis. Harry wanted to call Niall...he wanted to call that terrible woman and fire her over the phone but that would have to wait until Monday. Harry would see to it that something about the funeral be figured out. Maybe he would send one of his lawyers to deal with her mum. Her bank account, her laptop, even the driver he was seriously going to have follow her... all of it needed to be taken care of for Harry to feel like he was helping her and making her horrible thirty-some odd hours end.

But for the next five minutes he was going to hold her like it was his one and only job. “M’gonna make it all better, kitten,” he murmured brushing his lips over her forehead again. “Promise.”

--

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[lacedinweb22]

Vampire Next Door ♱✮♱ Miguel O'Hara x reader

Ch 6: Noise Complaints *ੈ‧₊ prev part

Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The second night is a bit more rough. Your parents scold you on the phone for moving all that furniture by yourself and for skipping dinner, you have writer’s block from the stress, and you can’t stop thinking about the blood on the fire escape, and … your dream. 

You’ve finally moved half of your things into your bedroom, so you lay in bed and celebrate by watching your comfort movie and eating a mug cake, made with the little ingredients you have in your pantry.

The rain isn’t beating as hard tonight; the wind is gentle and the autumn leaves sway gently outside of your apartment.

Thump. 

You freeze. It came from the bathroom. You slowly get up, ready to be nosy and listen in on whatever is happening at Miguel’s place. 

You put your ear to the wall. 

Thump! 

It startles you; you back away. Then you hear groans, and moans, and whines. It sounds like … Miguel? 

The noise continues: groaning, thumping, whining. 

Is he … It sounds like sex. You get butterflies just thinking about it. The Miguel you’ve made up in your head, your hallway crush, having sex.

If you weren’t so tense, starved, depressed, and completely sucked out of your quiet bubble by his racket, you would find it kind of … hot? Shamefully so. You’d have the patience, the nerve, to sit on the cold, tile floor and listen in.

But it’s annoying, and you’ll have trouble sleeping as is.  

It also makes you jealous. You know who he is, you know people want him, it’s inevitable, you’re not oblivious. This is just going to be something you’ll have to deal with, your attractive neighbor going in and out of his apartment with new hot people and rubbing it in your face. 

You sink onto the cold floor, stare at the tiles, and you let yourself feel it, let yourself admit,

it hurts a bit.

You stop yourself from marching right over there and scolding him and promise yourself that you’ll only go over if it continues for another ten minutes.

 The thumps and grunts cut in and out for a few more minutes.

You sit back in bed, hearing the muffled voices, wincing with jealousy.

Your cheeks burn pink. You wait, slowly taking bites of your cake, sitting in the noise of the rustling trees and your neighbor’s sex.

It passes the ten minute mark. 

You blame yourself for not setting boundaries sooner with your roommate, I mean look where that got you. Kindness taken for weakness. Six year friendship down the drain.

You’ve got to set some boundaries.  

So you fix yourself up, mentally prepare, and march over to tell your horny neighbor that he and his friend have got to lower their shit.

You take a deep breath in and knock. 

You practice in your mind, “Miguel, it’s four in the goddamn morning!” No, maybe “Miguel, can you lower the fucking down to a 3?” or “Miguel, I think my invite to the threesome got lost in the mail!” 

You hear shuffling, then finally, a flushed Miguel opens the door up a crack. His eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes explore your body in a panic, searching you.

“Miguel, do you think you could lower the fucking down a bit? It’s four in the goddamn morning! Yeah, some of us like to spend our time at night sleeping,” you scold, impressively staying in character. 

He’s catching his breath, and trying to hide it. He’s got a jacket pulled over, which you know he’s just using to cover up the sweaty mess underneath. His cheeks are pink, he’s got a bruise on his jaw. The red in his eyes looks brighter than it did earlier. 

You can’t see much besides that. From the little that you can see, his apartment is dark. Cold air escapes his place and greets your face. 

He looks angry, and it throws you off. 

“Y/N, I’m in the middle of something. I thought you had some sort of emergency. Go to fucking bed,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, middle of who is the real question,” you mutter, leaning to your side to sneak a peek inside his apartment. He’s far too tall for you to look over his shoulder, and his build blocks any chance of you seeing what’s happening behind him. You catch a glimpse of the kitchen floor. There’s porcelain shattered across the floor. It’s all you can see.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” you ask, slowly. 

He closes the door up a bit more, and runs a hand through his hair. 

“I–”

“What happened to your friend’s dog?” 

“Oh my god. I'll be quiet, okay? Talk tomorrow morning. This conversation is over.” 

He slams the door. 

“Fuck you too then,” you mutter, hitting the door.

Your stomach disobeys you, excitedly jumping at the thought of the talk that he’s scheduled for “tomorrow morning.”

You walk back inside of your apartment, then look into the peep hole at Miguel’s door. 

You need sleep. 

* * * * 

You’re too depressed to eat. Your stomach growls, but your chest hurts. Your mug sits on your side table, as you lay on your side staring at it, thinking of the past. 

Then the noise starts again. 

This time, it’s more than thumps. You hear meddling in drawers, and the slamming of cabinets.

You wait for it to stop. 

It doesn’t.

You sigh then get up to go scold your neighbor once again.

“What do you want?”

“You’re loud, Miguel. I’m trying to sleep,”

“And I’m trying to … box. Practice boxing,” 

“At four in the morning? Please,”

“I’m boxing!” he reasons, a whine in his voice, immature and defensive. 

“But your bathroom is against my bathroom. Are you boxing in the shower?”

He drags his hand down his face.

“Okay, Y/N, I’ll lower it down. Jesus. You’re fucking needy.”

“Needy?”

He crosses his arms, and tilts his head, looking down at you. He does that a lot. 

He smirks, “I’ve dealt with you five times already, Y/N, and you’ve only been here two days.”

You do the math. 

“I’ve only seen you four.” 

His eyebrows knit together, he looks to the side, at nothing, then looks back at you, concern suddenly wiped from his face. 

“Four, huh? Miscounted,” he shrugs.

Miscounted? Alchemax’s newest and brightest? Millionaire genius? 

But he doesn’t know you know that. So you roll your eyes and brush it off. 

“Well, keep it down, I’m–”

“Let’s go out, let’s uhh get something to eat,” he suggests, eyebrows furrowed. He nods to himself, turning away. He looks in pain. 

His voice trails away into his apartment.

“Come in … just swept, I know it’s a mess.” he shouts from what you assume is his bedroom.

You stand silently in the hallway, staring at the half-open door, then slowly take a few steps across the hall and into his apartment. 

The kitchen is dimly lit by the warm stovelight. You look at the broom standing against the counter, the gadgets spread across the kitchen counter, the punching bag hanging from the living room ceiling, the motorcycle helmet hanging from the coat rack. 

His voice approaches, “Yeah, let’s uhh go out. I gotta … gotta get out of here,”

He comes back, wincing as he pulls on a t-shirt, and comes through his doorway. You watch silently. 

You watch as he squeezes his biceps through the sleeves, then look down at his exposed happy trail leading down his lower stomach. You shift your eyes back up at his.

“Eat? Right now?” 

He finally has it on properly, his eyes lock onto yours.

“Yes, eat. Right now,” he confirms with a firm nod, bouncing his keys in his hand. He runs a stressed hand through his waves. He turns away, moving to the kitchen counter.

“When was the last time you ate?” he interrogates, never looking up. He slides gadgets into a drawer, his forearm swiping the counter clear of notes and scraps of metal.

Is your stomach rumbling that loud? 

You hesitate. You’re in your pajamas. You’re tired. But … it’s Miguel.

The boy– the man of your dreams. Seventeen year old you’s crush. Your crush.

And now he’s your neighbor, who is obviously trying to be social, be your friend. 

“Yes. I could eat.”

He nods, his hands now resting on his hips. He’s gathered himself. 

“I gotta change though,” you mutter, looking down at your pajamas. 

“I like your pajamas, just, you can stay in the car. I’ll run down and get it. 

You nod. 

“But it’s cold. Take my jacket.”

He grabs his moto jacket from the coat rack.

It’s the jacket he wore in college. The jacket he wore in your daydreams. The jacket. You’d recognize it anywhere.

You look up at him as he reaches his arms over you. 

 He sits it on your shoulders. It’s oversized, heavy, and it smells like him.

Your stomach jumps. 

You exit his apartment.

You lock your apartment door, as he locks his apartment door behind you. 

He stands behind you now, towering over you, watching you triple-check that your door knob won’t turn. 

“It’s locked,” he mutters behind you. 

“I know, I– I know,” you say, releasing the door knob and turning to meet his gaze looking down at you.

You lock eyes for a second, before the intimidation sinks in, forcing you to break away and start walking towards the elevator. 

* * * *

“There’s no way anything is open right now.”

“Try me. What do you feel like eating?” he asks, his eyes glued on the road.

It starts to sprinkle, then progressively picks up. The windshield wipers rush to clean up the blurry mess.

“You pick.”

“No, no, Y/N. I’m driving you. You’re the guest. You pick,” he demands, his face stern. 

“Okay, damn. Pizza. Detroit-style. You pick the place. I’m sure you’ve got one you’d recommend.”

“I do.” 

“And it’s open?” 

“I know a guy. He’s up early prepping. He owes me,” he shrugs.

You try to suppress your smile, turning to watch Miguel drive. His hand is on the bottom of the wheel, his toned forearms right there begging to be taken in by your eyes. He’s got them wrapped up.

He turns to look at you. 

“Stop staring … It’s rude.”

“Why do you have–”

“Why did you move apartments? What happened?” he asks, crashing your train of thought.

You haven’t talked about it in weeks. You haven’t thought about it in hours. You haven’t allowed yourself to mourn the loss of your friendship; just like that, high school memories, university memories, the old apartment, drunken nights in that room, memories of her flash through your mind.  

You’ll keep it simple.

“My roommate and I … we got tired of each other.”

“Tired?”

“Yes. Tired.”

“Huh. Adds up. She couldn’t handle how bothersome you are, hm? Thank god I’m far across the hall,” he scoffs. He turns to you. You’re not entertained. 

You turn towards the window. It is cold. You sink deeper into his jacket.

“Her loss. Who could get tired of you? I haven’t gotten tired of you. Not yet.”

He nudges you. 

“Pizza. Soon.” 

You don’t turn to face him. You just nod, “Yeah, yeah.” 

You arrive at the red brick building, stuffed in between old apartments. It looks old, trustworthy. 

“Give me ten,”

“Ten? But–”

“Lock the doors,” he instructs, grabbing his wallet, and turning the heater on. He slams the car door.

You sit and wait.

He walks out in five, with three boxes of pizza, and one circular foil tray of what looks like lasagna on top of it all.

“Jesus, there’s two of us, Mig. I’m not that hungry.”

“I wanted you to try the best things from the menu. Geez. You’ll have leftovers to bring home. Don’t stress.”

“How did you get that so fast? I mean I’m not complaining but…”

“I know a guy,” he shrugs.

You’ve forgotten that this is the Miguel O’Hara.

The connections must be infinite.

“Uh huh, okay,” you mutter, taking the boxes out of his hand and onto your lap.

“No, it’s hot– just put it on the backseat. You’re going to burn yourself,” he scolds. Before giving you the chance to comply, he grabs the boxes out of your hands. He leans over towards you, his biceps in your face as you turn to watch him place them down carefully in the back seats.

He puts his seatbelt on, then puts his hand on the back of your seat, looking through the rear window as he backs up slowly. His eyes catch yours. You turn away.

****

“One of the umm… one of the neighbors is throwing a Halloween party,” he cuts into the silence. 

“A party? I haven’t run into any of them yet, so I wouldn’t know,” you shrug, biting into your slice of pizza.

You sit together on the roof of the apartment building. Miguel has a key, says he knows a guy.

“It’s at Alicia’s place; she’s on our floor. We have an apartment floor email list. I’ll add you,” he assures, poking at the lasagna.

You nod, chewing and staring out at the skyline.

“Would you want to go? With me? To the party?” he asks, looking down at the pizza slice he’s just picked up.

“I don’t know if I have the energy to socialize or be… fun. I know how insufferable that sounds.”

“You don’t want to meet the neighbors? I get it if you don’t think you have the energy but… it might be fun. I never go to their parties, but it seemed like something you might want to go to.”

“I don’t want to meet any more people. I don’t want to make friends–” You stop abruptly, realizing how sad you sound, realizing how absolutely miserable you sound. You don’t recognize your voice, your words, yourself. You don’t like it; you want to go back to being friendly and hopeful, but that’s not who you are right now. 

“Y/N,”

You feel the word vomit. You couldn’t imagine ever being this negative and emotional towards someone you’ve just met, especially not Miguel. You wouldn’t let anyone see you like this, maybe her, maybe your sister, but not anyone else.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t had a real conversation with anyone in weeks. Maybe it’s because you’re vulnerable. Maybe it’s because you hardly know him, and it’s unlikely he’ll betray you with the little information he has on you. But for whatever reason, you trust him… and you word vomit on him. 

“I’ve been so miserable and… bitter lately. I guess I don’t see a point in trusting anyone or relying on anyone anymore. They always always let me down. It’s like everyone in my life was taking turns stabbing me in the back, and now I’m completely alone and completely broken. I am the only one I can rely on,” your voice cracks, but you keep going.

“And okay I do have people, but they’re all far… and they’re all telling me I can’t be negative and I have to keep loving and trying to make friends but I don’t want new people to pass the knife to. Is that so terrible? Does that really make me that fucking negative and self-pitying? And okay, maybe I am, but I don’t care anymore. If this is what I have to do to protect myself, then that’s what I’ll do… even if it means I’m miserable.”

You exhale, brushing your fingers through your hair. 

“To answer your question, no, I don’t want to go to the party.” 

You realize you’re crying. You knew you were in pain, but you didn’t think it would force its way out like this. 

“Y/N,”

You keep crying, hunched over, your face buried in your forearms as you keep your knees to your chest. 

You feel his hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry you’ve been let down, but you can’t swear off giving love just because it was taken for weakness.”

He sighs. 

“I know you don’t want to be happy right now, and you don’t have to be. You can be miserable and bitter for as long as you need, but deep down there’s a Y/N in there who is still hopeful and… full of love. She needs time to heal and feel that it’s safe to come out again; we have all the time in the world.”

You sniffle, then look up at him. He’s looking down at his knuckles, then he turns, looking down at you. He softly smiles, worry still painted on his face. 

“You’re wise,” you breathe out. 

“So this is why the loner won’t stop bothering me? You needed a friend to make as miserable as you?”

“Yeah, you already seemed depressed so halfway there. Plus you live the closest to me, most convenient.”

“You’re doing a great job so far,” he nods, biting into his pizza.

“Yeah, I’m really working on it.” 

You turn, admiring the remnants of his smile. 

The sky is clear now, the rain has stopped. 

You feel calm, at peace, and… happy for what feels like the first time in a long time.

“Thank you for the pizza… and for pulling me out of my apartment. I really really needed this. You know, I’ve always thought I needed complete control and order in my life, I mean spontaneity and spur-of-the-moment type things scared me, but… I think sometimes… it’s what I need. Less thinking, and postponing, and just acting on urges, you know? On my happiness. I haven’t felt something in so long… I know this was a lot. Sorry to dump,” you shake your head, looking down, laughing at how much you’ve given up to him.

You lean into your hands, your elbows resting on your thighs. You feel his eyes on you. You turn, looking up at him, his face turned towards you. He swallows, then turns back, looking straight at the skyline again. His jaw clenches.

“Don’t be sorry. You said things that I’m too stubborn to admit. And yeah I’m a control freak too, but uh I think I’m realizing I can’t control everything and everyone in my life, so I might as well lose some control here and there, let myself be pulled out of my comfort zone.”

“I love my comfort zone,” you laugh, pressing your cheeks into the palms of your hands.

“Me too… but we can, you know, pull each other out of our comfort zones. I’d do that for you.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Halloween chapter is here >_<

Hi i miss this ughdhisdfjf the lack of updates has been due to school and my emotions/mental health beating my ass. Thank you for reading and being here i love you i hope this brightened your day. I'm working so hard on this next sexy party chapter... stay tuned.

-G ⋆୨୧˚

[lunatic4toji]

thinking about richboy!gojo.

his mom gives him all the money he wants to buy whatever you want. they both love you.

he sets up mall dates, and you go into whatever store you want and buy whatever you want. he has one catch: he picks out a dress for you to wear to one of the many charity event parties hosted by his mom’s work.

and this is satoru gojo we’re talking about. so no way in hell is this dress appropriate for a company charity event. the one he picked out for you the other day is absolutely stunning on you. it’s not at all like what anyone else is wearing, for multiple reasons.

it’s very short, but of course that’s why he picked it. the slit? almost too high for you to even wear underwear. the neckline? shows way too much cleavage. (“not enough” satoru says.) would he fuck you in this dress at the company party? no. never.

that’s what you think until you’re in the coat closet, back against the wall and legs wrapped around him as his cock pounds into you. “mmph- toru- slow down-“ you can barely speak without your moans taking over and screaming his name. “why, princess? it’ll only make this take longer.” “someone- fuck- someone’s gonna hear-“ satoru smiles. “you’re scared of that?” you nod, because you definitely do not want his mother’s rich coworkers to hear you getting the shit fucked out of you in the coat closet.

“awh. princess. don’t worry.” you definitely do worry. the drag of his cock against you is brutal, and both the first and last thing you want him to do is slow down. “feels good, baby. so good, always. fuck- squeezing me so hard..” he grips your hips as he pounds into you, the wall behind you making a thump noise with each hard thrust.

“we gotta- ngh- gotta hurry, princess.. everyone’s gonna wonder where we ran off to, yeah?” you nod, and he moves one of his hands down to your pussy, his long middle finger expertly circling your clit. “you look so- so fuckin’ pretty in this dress.. knew i picked the right one.” you moan in response, eliciting a moan from satoru himself. “god, i love seeing you like this.. my pretty fuckin’ girl.. all for me.” you nod rapidly. “‘m your girl, toru..”

at that, his pace quickens and so does his finger on your clit. you yelp and he takes his hand away to slam it onto your mouth. “shh, princess. those sounds are only for- shit- for me. not those old asses out that wouldn’t know what to do with you even if i told them myself.” you clench around him, and he moans almost as loud as you did. he keeps his hand over your mouth and drills into you, his cock throbbing inside you. you tap his wrist and he lets go of your mouth. “‘m so close, toru.. cum with me. please.”

your words send him almost straight over the edge, his hips stilling and stuttering. he seemed to be malfunctioning. “god damn, princess. you’re- you’re- fuck. can’t explain it. just- so good for me..” he places his finger back on your clit and rubs aggressively. you twitch and spasm all over his cock without warning. you cover your own mouth to stifle the pornographic noises coming out of you. satoru should probably be doing the same, but he lost all shame years ago. he pulls out just in time, cumming all over the outside of your glistening pussy. you both sit with your foreheads pressed together, coming down from your earth-shattering orgasms.

satoru helps you up, grabbing a handkerchief out of someone’s coat and wiping his cum off of you, then sticking it inside your panties for later. he gives you a few quick kisses before smoothing your hair down and sneaking you around to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. he uses your lip gloss, then kisses you to put some on you so you don’t have to do it yourself. what a gentleman.

[wjhik]

Hiii!! How are you? Can I ask for a jude request where both the reader and him go on Ridiculousness and it’s just all fluff and jokes, thanks anyway

Cuddles (Jude Bellingham)

Soft moonlight seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The walls were adorned with pictures of cherished memories, and the bed is a cozy haven of warmth and comfort. I was scrolling through movie options to watch. I worked my ass off all morning to get all my uni work done, so I could enjoy my weekend, not needing to stress about having to get anything done. As I picked an M&M out of the package I heard the door open. I perked up and listened. I heard keys being dropped on the table and bags being put down. I heard footsteps moving towards the bedroom, where I was. The door swung open to reveal my beloved boyfriend.

“Hey, baby.” Jude says with a sigh. “Hi.” I smile at him. He rushed into the bathroom to settle himself.

Jude came out in a t-shirt and his boxers. “Hey.” He says, settling himself in bed, next to me. He laid his head on my chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. “How was your day?” I asked him. He always got clingy after a hard day. “It wasn’t bad. But I got cold, and wet.” The rainy season was hard for Jude. All he wanted to do was cuddle in bed with a warm cup of hot chocolate. “Yeah? I’m sorry, baby.” I comfort him, running my hands through his hair. I moved my hand to grab his under the blanket. Once contact was made, he immediately pulled away. “God, woman. Your hands are so cold. What the fuck?” He exclaims. “Why do you have to freeze my ass every night?” He whines. I don’t understand why he thinks it’s so cold. It’s really not. I only keep the thermostat at 16C. (that is really cold for me, but that’s what i keep my room at so wtv)

I playfully grabbed his face, enveloping him in my coldness. “AY! GET AWAY!!” He yells out. “You’re such a drama queen.” I giggled. “I’m not. You’re fucking insane.” He says, referencing my temperature preferences. I simply rolled my eyes at him.

“What are we doing tonight, girlfriend?” He says, poking my side. “You tell me, boyfriend.” I  replied, my eyes stuck to the T.V., struggling to find something interesting. “Well, I thought we could have some fun.” He whispered. “Stop being a horny teenager. Let’s watch Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.” I dismissed him. “You’re genuinely such a child.” He said.

“I never want to leave this bed.” I said, seemingly out of nowhere. Jude makes me feel so comfortable and safe. Nights like those were my favorite, because it was just me and him. No cameras. No media. No interviews. No judgment. Just a man and his girl. It was perfect.

“I second that. It's like a fort of coziness.” Jude replied. He held me in his chest tighter, and kissed the top of my head. He put his finger under my chin and made me look at him. I looked in his eyes, but instantly got nervous. I looked down, blushing to myself. He lets out a breathy laugh. He lifted my face once again, and kissed me. I felt all the butterflies that have ever been in my stomach all at once. 

I pulled away and kissed his nose. I propped myself up on one elbow, gazing up at Jude with a mischievous glint in my eye. “What’s going on in that brain of yours, huh?” Jude asks, seeing past my eyes. “You know, we could stay here forever. Build a tiny world of blankets and pillows, and never face the world outside.” I say, holding him tight. Jude flashes me a heartwarming smile that I will never get tired of. “I'm all for it. We'll need to hire a breakfast delivery service, though. Can't survive on cuddles alone.” Jude jokes. I rolled my eyes and asked, “Why do you have the humor of an 86-year-old grandpa that gets called ‘pop-pop’ by his grandkids?” I ask him. He gasps loudly and places his hand on his chest. “For your information, girls would die for this humor.” He huffs. “I am girls.” 

We shared a laugh, our fingers playing an intricate game of interlocking puzzles. My hand found its way to Jude's cheek, and I stroked it gently. “I love you so much. You don’t even get it.” I say. Jude quickly reciprocated by kissing me. He pulled away with a dramatic smooch to my head. “You do realize we've been in bed for hours, right?” I observed. “Hours? More like days, I think. Time ceases to exist in our cuddle kingdom.” Jude said. This guy is such a dork. “Please, stop. I think I’m going to be sick.” I said. “You love me.” Jude said, rolling his eyes. “You know I do.” 

We laid there in silence, savoring the tranquility of the night, enveloped in a cocoon of love and comfort. I lifted my head to plant a soft kiss on Jude's lips, and he responded with a gentle caress, our affection speaking volumes without the need for words. “I’m so sleepy.” I said, yawning into Jude’s chest. “I know, sweetie.” Jude twisted at an awkward angle to reach for the T.V. remote on his side table. He grabbed it and turned off the T.V., as well as flicking off his side lamp. He reached above me and turned mine off as well. He shimmied down slowly, trying not to disturb me. “Sleep, my love.” He whispered quietly, kissing my head.

“I love you, you know.” I say, dreamily as I doze off into a deep sleep. “I love you more.” Jude whispers, knowing I can’t hear him. Our embrace tightened, as if trying to fuse our souls together, seeking solace and strength in each other's arms. The world outside may be calling, but for now, in the safety of our love, time stands still, and the only reality that matters is the one we've created in the quiet sanctuary of our shared warmth.

Dm for Requests

Wattpad: Funkyfishfeet

[queenhunter102]

Part 17

Part 16 part 18

Over the short time you had been in Med Bay, you watched each team member fill in. First, Johnny had to be seen by one of the nurses to stitch up his hand. Then came Gaz, who was carrying a mounting load of fuzzy blankets and a few of his shirts.

Then came Alejandro, who was carrying a tray of food. From what you could see, fruit sticks were taking over most of the tray. Then came John, who wore a look of anger—no scratch, a look of rage. He was amongst the first to approach you.

“Hey Ven, are you ready to return to our barracks?” he asked, despite the anger he was clearly feeling. He spoke in the gentlest voice he could muster, trying his best not to frighten or scare you further than you already felt.

You gave him a once-over before gently moving down the bed to him. “Yeah, a nap sounds good right now,” you said, hearing a few sounds of agreement from the rest of the boys as John gave you the space to stand up before herding you to the door.

Now John was fuming, it wasn’t often that he got to this level of anger anymore, at least not before the OLs were put into place, but here he was guiding a hurt omega back to his barracks, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

…Well, he could do something about it, but it would get him dishonourably discharged, as would the rest of his task force, who would follow suit. He knew he wouldn’t have to ask either, maybe because they would think his discharge was unjust or because they felt what had happened to the Omega was unjust. He wasn’t sure.

It was all he could think about was Jenson attacking you while you were alone and vulnerable, with none of his men around, none of them within earshot of the sounds of your yells and screams that frighten him…ok, less him more of the Alpha in him, who seemed to grow overly attached to you.

He pulled his lips back in a silent snarl while he pushed the door open to the barracks, letting you waltz your way inside. John watched as Gaz helped you pick out some PJs, socks, and slippers before guiding you to the shared shower block. He watched you pause at the door and jump a little when a shout came and then came the snarling.

Heads snapping in the direction only to find Johnny holding up a bathroom bag “Ven’ Don’t forget these”, he said as he approached the pair, holding it out to you. They all watched as you slowly took the bag with a little crescent moon on it.

John watched as you smiled at Johnny. He watched as that smile didn’t reach your eyes. He had noticed that when he first met you, he had noticed that your first instinct wasn’t to take off…ok, it was a little, but you had picked a fight (an unintentional one) with an alpha on day one. He wondered if that came from your training or if that was something that had followed you from the outside world.

“It’s al’ight little moon. You can shower. None of us will look, and no one will get in” That came from Simon, who was standing against the door of the barracks, his head tilted to the side. John let his eyes flick over before finding you…right he hadn’t thought about you being hesitant about entering the room alone, although it was dumb thinking you weren’t afraid; John watched as you nodded hesitantly before walking into the showers, only after Gaz had made sure there were no threats, no dangers.

Once you were safely inside, Gaz closed the door and pressed his back against it while Alejandro and Simon converged at the walls, their backs facing Gaz while they waited for you to come out. He watched as Johnny made his way to the beds, taking some of the pillows and blankets, pulling them out and neatly tucking them down, the same with the pillows.

“Cap’you gonna stand there and watch, or are you gonna help?” Johnny asked as he walked to his bed and storage, pulling out a few T-shirts before returning them and dumping them into the bed. He paused as he lifted his head, looking at John with a look of worry on his face. “Should I give them a few more of my shirts” John shrugged. “How would I know? I’ve never taken an omega permanently,” John said as he walked to his bed and storage, pulling out a few jumpers and socks before returning to the bed that has become a makeshift nest for you.

John walked out and motioned to the beds. “I would suggest giving something to the cause”, John said with a tilt of his head. Alejandro was the first of the three to shift on his feet. “Only if you take my place” " he said, his head turning to catch sight of Gaz leaning on the door with his arms crossed, looking every part of a SAS operative that he was.

John nodded his head as he took Alejandro’s place, and he clapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. They’ll be alright here with us.”

The only thing that John got was a grunt of acknowledgement as Alejandro walked to his bed and storage, taking his turn in pulling out his shirts “Lord Johnny, did you cum in sheets” That had most of the team turning their heads to pair.

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Kissess.