#and there nothing wrong with coffee and i still have it like 2-3 times a week

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 7

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen is getting ready to head to Austin for some time with his family, but wants to spend one last evening with Gabby. They settle in at his place, ordering takeout, and cuddling up on the couch. Then he invites Gabby to spend the night, enjoying one last evening together.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of Alcohol, SMUT (Nudity, Missionary Position it's their first time...it may get more kinky later, I don't know yet. But there's nothing wrong with a little vanilla.)

A/N: So after the last chapter I've been writing this one basically non-stop. Normally I hit bumps along the way which is why it's usually 5-7 days between chapters. But I wrote this one in like two and didn't want to wait to post, so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The days following their first breakfast together settled into a comfortable rhythm, as though Glen and Gabby had been a part of each other’s lives for much longer than a few weeks. They fell into an easy balance of spending time together while keeping up with their individual responsibilities. Some nights were spent at Gabby’s cozy apartment, the two of them cooking simple meals side by side, the radio playing softly in the background as they laughed about Glen’s inability to chop onions without tearing up. Other nights were at Glen’s place, where they sprawled on his couch, eating takeout straight from the containers and watching movies they only half-paid attention to, too absorbed in their conversation to care about the plot.

When they weren’t together, they stayed in touch. Gabby found herself smiling at the occasional texts Glen sent throughout the day—sometimes a photo of his dog napping in a patch of sunlight, other times a joke or comment about the podcast recording he’d just finished. In return, she sent him snapshots of her coffee-fueled study sessions, complete with exaggerated captions about the “thrilling life of a student.” It wasn’t overbearing or constant, just enough to remind them both that the other was thinking of them.

Despite the ease of their time together, neither pushed to define what was happening between them. They hadn’t taken things public—Glen’s fame adding a layer of complexity neither of them was eager to rush into—but there was an unspoken understanding that, for now, they were simply enjoying the moments they had. Each interaction felt natural, like the slow unfolding of something neither of them had expected but both were beginning to treasure.

By the end of Glen’s first week off, the lines between his world and Gabby’s had started to blur in small, significant ways. It wasn’t just that his spare toothbrush had found a spot in her bathroom or that his favorite blanket had been claimed as hers during their movie nights. It was the way they talked, the way they moved around each other, the way they found themselves looking forward to the next time without ever having to say it.

The hum of Gabby’s car engine filled the silence as she pulled into her apartment parking lot, her mind still replaying the events of her busy day. She was already planning on collapsing onto the couch with a bowl of cereal when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. Picking it up, she smiled as Glen’s name lit up the screen.

Glen: Hey, you free tonight?

The message was simple, but she could practically hear his voice in her head, that mix of charm and warmth that made her stomach flip every time. She bit her lip, typing out a quick reply.

Gabby: I think I can squeeze you into my schedule 😉

His response was almost instant.

Glen: Good, because I was hoping to steal you for the evening. Come over?

She laughed softly, the exhaustion from her day momentarily forgotten.

Gabby: What’s the occasion?

A few dots appeared on the screen as he typed.

Glen: You. Me. One last quiet night before I head to Austin. No agenda, just us.

Gabby’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his words. It was rare for someone to make her feel this... wanted. Not in a grand, sweeping way, but in the quiet, meaningful moments that reminded her how much she liked having him in her life.

Gabby: I’m on my way.

Sliding her phone back into her bag, she took a deep breath and shifted the car back into drive. A quiet night with Glen sounded like exactly what she needed.

Gabby pulled up to Glen’s house, the low glow of the porch light illuminating the familiar front door. Her heart skipped a beat as she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and made her way up the steps. Before she could even knock, the door swung open, and Brisket came barreling toward her, tail wagging furiously.

“Hey, buddy!” Gabby crouched down, laughing as the dog nudged his head against her hands, soaking up all the attention she was more than happy to give. “Were you waiting for me, huh? Such a good boy!”

Glen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing smirk on his face. “Nice to see you too, babe,” he drawled, feigning offense.

Gabby glanced up at him, still scratching behind Brisket’s ears, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans as she stepped closer to him.

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

Before he could say anything else, Gabby slipped her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to look at him. “Hi.”

His teasing expression softened as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Hi,” he murmured back, his voice warm and low.

He dipped his head, their lips meeting in a slow, unhurried kiss, the kind that made the world outside his front door disappear. Brisket let out a little huff, circling at their feet as if to remind them he was still there. Gabby pulled back slightly, smiling against Glen’s lips.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” she whispered.

Glen glanced down at the dog, who was now pawing at Gabby’s leg, clearly not done being the center of attention. 

“Can you blame him?” Glen asked, his lips quirking into a grin.

Gabby laughed, giving Brisket one last pat before Glen stepped aside to let her in. 

“Come on,” he said, resting a hand lightly on her back as they walked into the house. “I’ve got wine chilling and takeout on the way. Thought we could keep it low-key tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gabby replied, feeling her shoulders relax as she slipped off her shoes.

The doorbell rang, cutting through their conversation. Brisket barked once, trotting toward the door, his tail wagging.

“That’ll be the food,” Glen said, brushing a hand against Gabby’s arm as he passed her.

He returned a moment later, balancing a stack of takeout containers in one hand while shutting the door with the other. Gabby watched as he brought the bags to the kitchen counter and began unpacking them, the familiar aroma of Thai food filling the room.

“What do I owe you?” she asked, stepping closer to the counter.

Glen glanced at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowing slightly as if the question surprised him. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Glen,” she said, folding her arms. “I mean it. I don’t want you—or me, for that matter—feeling like I’m taking advantage of you.”

He paused, turning to look at her fully. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve paid for everything so far,” she said, motioning to the takeout. “Dinner on our first date, every DoorDash order, everything. I don’t want it to seem like I’m just… letting you take care of everything.”

Glen leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as he considered her words. “You buy groceries when we cook at your place,” he pointed out.

Gabby tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look.

“What?” Glen asked, smirking now.

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

His expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes softening. He stepped toward her, his hands settling lightly on her waist. 

“Gabby,” he said gently, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her shirt. “I don’t think that at all. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I did.”

She let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly, but he wasn’t done. 

“Look,” he continued, “it’s still early, yeah. But these are our dates. I was raised that the guy is supposed to pay on the dates”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she raised a brow. “Supposed to?”

“Yup,” he said confidently, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“That’s such an old school thing.” She rolled her eyes, earning a low chuckle from him.

“Wait a second,” he said, his tone teasing as he tilted his head at her. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Gabby met his gaze, challenging. “What if I did?”

His grin widened, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. She gasped softly as his warm breath ghosted against her skin, his voice low as he murmured, “Then I might have to make you take it back.”

Her laugh turned into a quiet hum as his kisses deepened, his hands sliding to her lower back to pull her closer. She threaded her fingers into his hair, and before she could think, Glen’s hands lifted her onto the counter.

Glen’s lips moved against hers with a growing urgency, his hands steady on her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Gabby’s fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as her breath hitched.

“Glen,” she managed between kisses, her voice soft and a little breathless.

“Hmm?” he hummed against her lips, his hands trailing to her thighs.

“The food,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, though her hands didn’t leave his hair.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting against hers as his hands tightened their hold on her.

“It’s going to get cold,” she pointed out, her tone half-hearted, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced it mattered.

Glen grinned, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth as he whispered, “I’m hungry for something else.”

Her laugh was soft and breathy, and she gave him a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “Glen,” she said again, her tone firmer this time, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

He groaned dramatically, letting his forehead drop to her shoulder as he sighed. 

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to help her slide off the counter. “We can eat.”

Gabby smirked, smoothing her shirt as she stepped back toward the counter, her cheeks still flushed. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

He shot her a playful glare as he grabbed the takeout containers, setting them on the counter with a bit more flair than necessary. 

“But just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone serious even as his lips quirked into a grin, “I’m coming back for dessert later.”

She didn’t respond, but the warmth in her smile and the quick glance she gave him said enough.

As they settled at the counter with their takeout containers spread out between them, the casual clinking of chopsticks and soft rustle of food filled the air. Glen cracked open the lid of his container and took a sniff. "Okay, this might be the best-smelling food I’ve ever had," he said, grabbing a generous bite.

Gabby raised an eyebrow as she poked at her dumplings. “You said that about the tacos we had last night.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he shot back, his mouth full enough to make her wrinkle her nose.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Glen leaned his chin on his hand, watching her. “So, what’s your guilty pleasure food?”

Gabby paused mid-bite, considering. “Hmm. Probably mac and cheese. But like, the boxed kind. The neon orange powder stuff. None of that fancy baked nonsense.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I knew you were secretly a five-year-old.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve had it Mr. Won’t Eat Cheese. What about you?”

“Easy,” he said, without hesitation. “Pop-Tarts. Strawberry. No frosting.”

“No frosting?” she exclaimed, looking genuinely horrified. “What kind of monster eats Pop-Tarts without frosting?”

“This kind,” he said proudly, tapping his chest. “They’re better that way.”

“You’re objectively wrong,” she declared, shaking her head in mock disbelief.

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He shrugged, reaching for another bite of pad Thai.

“Or,” she countered, narrowing her eyes, “you’ll have to come over for breakfast sometime and let me prove you wrong.”

His brows lifted in interest. “You’re challenging me to a Pop-Tart showdown?”

“Absolutely,” she said with a confident nod. “Frosted strawberry will change your life.”

Glen laughed, the kind of laugh that felt easy and genuine. “Alright, deal. But don’t cry when you realize you’ve been living a lie.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”

The conversation drifted as they kept eating, dipping into lighter topics like movies they loved and places they wanted to visit someday. There was a warmth between them, the kind that made the night feel effortless, as though they’d been doing this for years rather than weeks.

When Gabby reached for the last dumpling, Glen swooped in with his chopsticks, snatching it right before she could.

“Hey!” she protested, staring at him in mock betrayal.

He grinned as he popped it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You’re the worst,” she said, though her smile betrayed her.

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, leaning back in his seat with a triumphant grin.

After dinner, Gabby stood and started gathering up the empty containers, stacking them neatly as Glen leaned back against the counter, watching her with a satisfied smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s no big deal,” she replied, waving him off as she carried the trash over to the bin. “You bought dinner, and wouldn’t let me pay for at least my share. So the least I can do is help clean up.”

She noticed a couple of dishes in the sink—a stray coffee mug and a plate from earlier in the day. Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeves and started rinsing them off.

“Gabby,” Glen said, his tone warning, as he moved to stand behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she answered simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is my house,” he reminded her, stepping closer. “And my rules clearly state: no guests do chores.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, is that so?”

“It is.” His voice held a playful firmness, but Gabby wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Well,” she said, turning back to the dishes and continuing to rinse, “I’m not a guest, technically. I’m more of a—what’s the term? Frequent flyer? That means the rule doesn’t apply to me.”

“Frequent flyer?” he repeated, amused. “You’re really stretching here, babe.”

“Call it what you want,” she quipped, reaching for the dish soap. “But I’m finishing these.”

Glen moved quickly, stepping close enough that she could feel the warmth of him at her back. She turned, ready to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His brow lifted, silently telling her to drop it.

“Glen—”

Before she could say another word, he cupped her face and kissed her. It wasn’t rushed or heated, but slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers just enough to make her heart stutter. He pulled back just slightly, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Let me do it,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing.

Gabby blinked up at him, momentarily disarmed. “You’re using kissing to get your way now?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small smirk. “Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “Fine. But only because you’re stubborn.”

“Stubborn and charming,” he corrected, taking the sponge from her hand and tossing it into the sink. “Now, go relax while I handle this.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, stepping aside.

“True,” he called over his shoulder as he began cleaning up the counter. “But you like me anyway.”

Gabby laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against the kitchen island. Watching Glen hum softly while he tidied up, she couldn’t help but think that, yes, she liked him—a little more than she cared to admit.

The evening slowly shifted into that quiet, comfortable lull that comes when two people are perfectly content in each other's company. Gabby was perched on the couch, her legs curled beneath her as she absently scrolled through a playlist on her phone, and Glen was sitting next to her, leaning back against the cushions with his arm draped casually along the backrest.

As the last song of her playlist faded, Glen glanced over at her, his hazel eyes warm but hesitant. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone different now—gentler, more deliberate.

Gabby turned to him, her head tilting slightly. “Yeah?”

His hand reached for hers, threading their fingers together as he gave a small smile. “Do you, uh… want to stay the night?”

Her heart gave a quick, surprised flutter. They’d spent plenty of time together over the last week, but this felt different—more significant, somehow.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Glen gave her hand a soft squeeze and nodded, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual confidence. “Yeah. I want you here, with me.”

Gabby’s lips curved into a small smile as she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply.

He smiled back, relief flickering across his face, and stood, tugging her gently to her feet. 

“Come on,” he said, his voice dipping lower as he led her toward his bedroom.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast warm, golden light across the room, making it feel cozy and intimate. Glen turned to face her, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she looked up at him, her breath catching.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. Gabby’s hands slid up to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled her closer. The world outside seemed to fade as they got lost in each other, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

Glen’s hands skimmed her sides, his touch firm but careful, and when he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression was tender. His lips found hers again, and this time there was no hesitation. The kiss turned hungrier, more urgent, as they backed toward the bed. Glen’s hands moved to the hem of her top, and when she nodded her silent permission, he carefully lifted it over her head and tossed it aside.

She mirrored his movements, her hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt until he pulled it off and let it drop to the floor. For a moment, they paused, their eyes locking as if to silently check in with each other.

“This all okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Gabby nodded again, a small, nervous laugh escaping her. Glen reached for her hand again, intertwining their fingers as he guided her gently toward the bed. The quiet confidence in his movements steadied the fluttering nerves that Gabby felt bubbling just beneath the surface. As the backs of her knees brushed the edge of the mattress, Glen paused, looking down at her as if he was committing every detail to memory—the soft curve of her lips, the way her hair framed her face, the trust in her eyes.

Still holding her hand, he leaned down, brushing his lips across hers in a kiss so gentle it sent shivers down her spine. She let out a soft sigh, her free hand moving instinctively to rest against his chest, her fingertips grazing the warmth of his skin.

Glen smiled against her lips, the corners of his mouth curving in that way that always made her heart skip. "You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with sincerity.

Gabby felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head slightly, unable to hide the small, bashful smile that tugged at her lips. “You’re just saying that,” she whispered.

He tipped her chin back up with a single finger, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Before she could reply, his lips captured hers again, this time with more urgency. As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands found her waist, and he guided her back onto the bed, following her down until they were both lying against the soft comforter.

Gabby’s heart raced as Glen hovered above her, his weight supported by his arms on either side of her. His gaze swept over her, equal parts admiration and restraint, as if he wanted to take his time but was finding it harder with every passing second.

“You sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice low and almost reverent.

Her answer was immediate, her hands sliding up to cradle his face. “I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Glen’s lips moved from hers, tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. Gabby’s breath hitched as he lingered at the sensitive spot just below her ear, his warm breath sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.

Her hands roamed over his back, exploring the planes of muscle there as he continued to press soft, heated kisses along her collarbone. When his lips found their way back to hers, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

As the kiss deepened, Glen’s hands began to move with quiet certainty, his fingers brushing over the waistband of her jeans. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his gentle tug, pulling the fabric down over her hips. She hesitated for a brief second, her stomach tightening with a sudden, unfamiliar feeling.

The jeans were gone in seconds, but as he moved to remove her shirt, Gabby instinctively covered herself with her hands, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin. She felt a flush creep across her chest, her breath shallow as she avoided his gaze for just a moment.

Glen paused, noticing the shift in her energy. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the tenderness in his gaze giving her an almost overwhelming sense of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hands still resting on her waist, the warmth of his touch grounding her.

Gabby shook her head quickly, trying to brush it off. “Nothing,” she said, offering him a half-smile. “Just… I don’t know. I’m fine.”

But Glen didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed in concern as he searched her eyes, sensing the unease she was trying to hide. His fingers gently cupped her face, urging her to meet his gaze.

“Gabs, hey,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “Talk to me.”

She sighed, her body tensing under the weight of her vulnerability. She was used to being comfortable with Glen, but now–she felt exposed. And it terrified her.

“I just... I don’t know,” she said, her voice trailing off as she gestured at herself. “I’m not exactly—” She cut herself off, the insecurity creeping in again.

Glen’s eyes softened, and his expression changed to one of pure understanding. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands trailing down her arms, coaxing her to relax. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Gabby opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips.

“No,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You are. And I’m not just saying that or because I’m your boyfriend or whatever else you were about to say.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words, but she still felt that twinge of insecurity, the nagging thought that she didn’t look like the women in magazines or the ones she imagined he’d been with before.

But before she could say anything more, Glen lowered himself beside her, his lips finding the sensitive skin just below her ear. His kisses were slow, soft, and deliberate, each one trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and slowly, carefully, down her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with admiration. His lips moved lower, brushing across her stomach, and Gabby let out a shaky breath, her body shuddering with each kiss. “Every inch of you is beautiful,” he whispered against her skin.

Gabby closed her eyes, the warmth of his kisses and the sincerity in his words slowly melting away her insecurities. She felt his hands roam along her body, exploring her with such reverence that it felt like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. His lips, soft but insistent, found their way back to hers, kissing her.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting hers again. “You’re perfect, Gabby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you don’t need to be anything but yourself for me.”

Gabby’s chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. The vulnerability, the raw honesty between them, made her heart swell in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She reached for him, pulling him back down into a kiss, letting her hands wander over his back, feeling the heat of his skin, grounding herself in the reality of this moment.

It was slow and tender, the kind of kiss that felt like more than just passion—it was a promise. A promise that, despite her insecurities, she was worthy of this, of him.

Glen’s hands were steady as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. She inhaled sharply, the tension between them thickening, her heart beating faster. When she was completely exposed to him, she couldn’t help but glance down, her eyes tracing the line of his body as he undressed. The sight of him—completely bare—made her pulse quicken.

Once he was bare before her, he leaned down, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. He crawled back onto the bed, his body brushing against hers as he kissed her again, slow and deliberate, his lips trailing over hers in a heated, tender kiss. Gabby’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the weight of him, all of him, pressing closer, and yet there was an undeniable gentleness in the way he kissed her.

He slid his hand up to her face, cupping it softly as their lips moved together. She kissed him back with an intensity of her own, her hands running up and down his back, feeling every inch of the muscles she had admired from a distance. She couldn’t help but smile against his lips, that nagging insecurity from earlier slowly melting away with every kiss, every touch, every second they spent together.

Glen pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers. He was breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling as he smiled softly at her. “You good?” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Gabby nodded, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her fingertips. “I’m good,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And for the first time in a while, she truly felt it—good, real, safe.

Glen pulled away just slightly, his hand moving to the nightstand. Gabby watched him curiously, but then understood when she saw the small box in his hand. He looked at her for a moment, his expression soft but serious.

Gabby nodded. Glen carefully opened the box and retrieved a condom, a quiet moment of practicality amidst the heat of the moment. He gave her a reassuring smile as he slid it on.

"Still sure about this?" he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. Gabby nodded, feeling more at ease now that she knew they were both on the same page.

"Yeah," she murmured, smiling up at him, appreciating the care he’d shown. "I’m sure."

As Glen positioned himself above her, he moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. When he finally slid into her, both of them paused.

Gabby’s breath hitched as she felt the initial stretch, a slight discomfort making her eyes flutter shut. She’d imagined this moment, but the reality was different—more intimate, more overwhelming. She could feel herself tense, it having been a while since she’d been with anyone.

But then, Glen’s hands found her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he murmured against her ear, “You’re doing great. Just breathe, babe. I’ll go slow.”

His words grounded her, bringing her focus back to him. His presence was calm and steady, and the tenderness in his gaze told her everything she needed to know. Slowly, the discomfort eased, and Gabby let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Glen’s hands moved to her waist, helping her adjust as he began to move, slowly at first, giving her the space she needed. Every inch of him was careful, focused on her, his eyes locked on hers as if he were waiting for any sign that she needed a break. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Gabby’s breath was shallow, but with each movement, the discomfort slowly faded, replaced by something deeper, something more intense. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her hands gripping his back as she began to meet his movements, urging him on.

Glen kissed her forehead, his lips soft against her skin, whispering more reassurances as they moved together. His voice was hoarse with the effort of holding back, his movements becoming more urgent but still patient, still focused on making sure she was okay.

Gabby, feeling the heat building between them, nodded, her body responding to his in a way that made her forget about the earlier discomfort. 

“I’m okay now. You can go faster,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

Glen’s pace quickened then, his movements more desperate. As the tension built, Gabby found herself spiraling, lost in the sensation, and with one final whisper of his name, she reached the peak, her body trembling beneath him.

He followed soon after, his name leaving her lips in a breathless moan as they both rode out their highs together.

After Glen collapsed beside her, pulling her close as they both tried to catch their breath, their bodies tangled together beneath the soft covers. Gabby nestled into his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

But the silence was comfortable, filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

“You okay?” Glen finally asked his hand tracing patterns along her back.

Gabby smiled, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth and trust.

After the shared silence of their embrace, Glen gently pressed a kiss to Gabby’s forehead before slipping out of bed. His movements were slow, and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the peace between them. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and she nodded, her eyes closing as she listened to the soft sounds of him moving around the room.

When he returned, he held a t-shirt in his hand, the soft fabric looking a little worn, the familiar scent of him still lingering on it. 

“Here,” he said, offering it to her with a warm smile. “Figured you might want something to wear.”

Gabby glanced up at him, still feeling the warmth from their shared moment. She took the shirt from him, fingers brushing against his as she did. “Thanks,” she murmured softly, feeling a little shy now that the raw intensity of the moment had passed.

She slid off the bed and moved toward the bathroom, using the restroom and freshening up before returning to him. When she came back, she saw Glen had pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and was now laying on the bed.

Gabby put on her underwear and then slipped into the oversized shirt Glen had given her, the cotton fabric falling just past her thighs.

She crawled back into bed, settling next to him, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath her. Glen shifted, making space for her, then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. His touch was light, almost protective as if wanting to ensure she felt safe and cherished.

Gabby snuggled into his chest, the warmth of his body lulling her into a sense of peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this comfortable with someone. The vulnerability they’d shared earlier still lingered between them, but now it was wrapped in the softness of intimacy, trust, and care.

“You okay?” Glen asked quietly, his voice soft and steady as his fingers gently traced circles on her back.

Gabby looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a smile that reached her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low but filled with contentment. “I’m really good, Glen. Thanks for… everything.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes soft with affection. “Anytime,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound between them the gentle rhythm of their breathing, the quiet peace that came from being close to someone who truly cared. Gabby closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment wash over her, feeling safe, seen, and, for the first time in a long time, completely at ease.

Glen didn’t say anything more, but his hand gently stroked her hair, a tender gesture that spoke louder than any words could. And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that this—this was exactly what she needed, what she had been longing for without even knowing it.

[themadknightuniverse]

Loustat short comics - There is nothing else until the storm is over - Interview with the Vampire TV Series

text transcription under the cut ⬇️

Fake magazine illustration

Page 1 Daniel : So, tell me... Did you see Lestat again?

Page 2 Louis : When he's not on Tour, he would occasionally visits.

Page 3 Daniel : So you're what, now? Friends?

Louis : [Hello Lestat.]

Lestat : [Hello Louis.]

It would be too simple. You know us.

Louis : [ That's new. Still enjoying the glitz and glamor?]

But there is this arrangement we are both fine with.

Page 4 When two people hurt each other so deeply, what is left afterwards?

Page 5 Things like that, it seals doors once still unlocked at the time. Can time really heal everything?

[Mets moi dans mon cercueil, Louis, Louis...]

Page 6 [Stay down chéri, I don't want to fight like this. I'll stay. I'll stay, I'll never leave you ever again. I promise. I'll be happy. For you. For her. Please please please please]

Some things were flipped over to show the truth. Others, I learned to see differently. I faced my wrongs.

[I'll be anything please please please please please please. I didn't know it was a gift. I wore it like a curse. I was selfish. I wanted you to suffer. Because I was. Suffering. I came to thank you.]

Page 7 Do we love each other still? Yes. Can we live under the same roof, share the same spaces, the same bed, for an extended period of time, again? No. But this raging, all devouring passion, it is now replaced by something that can never be altered. Is this the price we had to pay to finally be equals?

Page 8 We have never been more understanding of each other. A shadow of something that could have been from the start. Friendly jokes. Bickering I will never admit enjoying. Respect. And then, the always surprising softness. So eerie after all that happened. Yet, we always welcome it.

Page 9 Daniel : [How dramatic. Not ready to live together again, yet he's all over your coffee table.]

Louis: [I didn't buy these.]

Daniel : [Sure. Will you let me know the next time he passes by?]

Louis : [Well I can't. This is his safe place. You will have to find him by yourself I'm afraid.]

Daniel : [Of course. He can't make anything easy. As if he didn't have enough safe places with his ten properties.]

Page 10 Louis: [Nice chat. Bye, Daniel.]

Lestat : [Only when I'm not on Tour, hm?]

Louis [Approximately.]

Lestat : [Thanks.]

Louis : [Did you really just say thank-]

Lestat: *kisses Louis* [...too soon?]

Page 11 Louis : Almost a century is enough waiting.

[surftrips]

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

[swordsandholly]

Little Death

Incubus!Soap x fem fat reader | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI | cw: dubcon, noncon, drinking, biting, afab reader, blood, PiV sex, cunnilingus, anal, monsterfucking, size difference, kidnapping, dead dove

Word Count: 4.5k

You sit in your apartment on your worn out couch, sipping a glass of shitty gas station wine at some godforsaken hour in the morning. Just like you do nearly every night these days. Love Island plays loudly on the TV while you try to drown out the overbearing silence that seems to cling to you. It surrounds you at all times, everything just a little too quiet. A little too distant.

You knew getting divorced would be lonely. You didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Your eye connects with a piece of paper that’s been living on your side-of-the-road coffee table for the past… who knows at this point. The friend that gave it to you meant well. She intended it to be a funny, light hearted gesture. Instead, you just feel pathetic. The pitiable fat girl that can’t get a date. Not that she’d be wrong. Out of drunk boredom, or maybe sheer desperation, you grab the stupid cut out article. It’s some plasticky, cheap print with the title ‘How To Summon A Lover’ which is probably the laziest headline in the world for a supposed spell.

Are you lonely? The summary asks, Do you need some special company? Just follow these steps and get exactly what you’re looking for!

It’s stupid. It’s corny. Luckily - or unfortunately - you are just drunk enough to take part in stupid and corny. Your eyes graze over the materials list - paper, a red marker, a metal baking sheet, and a stick candle. Your brow scrunches. You suppose you can sacrifice one of your outdated, unused decor candles that sit on your mantle. You gather the supplies with clumsy, uneven steps.

Fuck your ex. Fuck him for making you this sad and pathetic. Fuck him for piling on the insecurity, for isolating you and taking nearly all your friend group. For all of it. You plop down on your rug, items in hand and thoughts swirling angrily.

Step 1: Place the paper on the baking sheet

Step 2: Draw a pentagram

You roll your eyes. Of fucking course it’s a pentagram. You do it, still.

Step 3: Write “I Light The Flame of Desire” on each side of the page

Step 4: Place the candle in the center of the paper

Step 5: Light the candle and concentrate on your intention until it burns out.

You regret picking up such a big candle.

When you wake your mouth is dry and your back aches. The sunlight offends your eyes when you attempt to crack them open. You must have fallen asleep on the floor at some point. You look down at the mess in front of you. The candle burnt the paper into almost nothing at some point. Thank god the article told you to put it on a baking sheet.

You feel so fucking stupid.

You stumble into the shower, allowing the hot water to help rouse you from your hungover, groggy state. That feeling of stupidity tickles the back of your mind. It’s not like you expected it to work - really, what’s making your heart twist and shame crawl up your back is the disappointment, is that it didn’t. At least you don’t have to work today. You don’t particularly feel like being around people. Not that you do the rest of the time.

As you turn to get out, fear strikes through you at a shadow in your periphery through the fogged shower glass. Just as soon as you see it, it disappears. You shrug it off, heart still thumping wildly as you towel off. Something in your gut churns as you do your best to get ready for the day. An unease that won’t leave as you make yourself at least appear like someone with their life together. A feeling that someone is watching makes your hair stand on end.

You send up a thank you to the universe that you managed to get up early enough to make it to the grocery store during quiet hours. While buckling your seatbelt, that shadow comes back. Right behind you, in the back seat. It’s gone as soon as you check the rearview mirror. You let out a shaky breath. It keeps happening. While you get your shopping cart, while you choose produce. Every time you turn an isle, it’s there. It sends shivers down your spine. Some black, effervescent shape that follows you worse than a shadow. That catches your eye even when you consciously try to ignore it. You really need to lay off the drinking.

As soon as you get home, you toss everything from the night before - including the baking sheet. Some superstitious part of you rears its head, telling you to walk the damn thing all the way to the outside dumpster rather than leave it to fester in your personal trash. You don’t believe in ghosts or spirits. You’re sure you just drank too much, that you slept strangely and it fucked with your head. That not speaking to anyone besides brief interactions with coworkers and customers for weeks on end has left you jumpy and off. Maybe you really should see that therapist your lawyer talked about. She’s expensive though, and not covered by your insurance…

You turn over another bottle of wine in your hand, wrinkling your nose. Not tonight. Not when you turn to put the bottle down and nearly jump into the ceiling at some shape moving to the living room from behind you. Only in your periphery, only vague images, leaving you uneasy. You toss and turn when you finally get into bed. It still feels like you’re being watched. Like there’s a camera just over your shoulder, or in the ceiling fan, staring down at you. For the first time since you were small, you bury yourself under the covers and screw your eyes shut, hoping it will save you from the monsters under your bed and in your head.

You stir at a weight dipping your bed. It’s slight, so slight you almost miss it entirely, until it isn’t. Until whatever it is moves again and you feel something brush over your legs. In a panic, still half asleep, you turn onto your back, fists flying through the air only to be caught by inhumanly large hands. You flail, kicking as a scream catches in your throat.

“Shh, sh, yer a’right.” A distinctly Scottish brogue coos, pinning you to the bed without so much as a grunt. You finally manage to open your eyes properly. He’s big - eyes a bright, unnatural blue with a wild light in them. When he grins at you it exposes long fangs where his normal canines should be. Two horns poke out from his head, the shorn sides of his haircut further exposing them. There’s an unnatural red tint to his skin, darkening to nearly pure crimson at the ends of his exposed limbs. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh- who the fuck are you?” You squeak, far less threatening than you might have liked.

The beast’s grin only widens. “Donnae ye know? Ye called me, after all.”

Your eyes widen to saucers as you stare up at him. Did- there’s no way that stupid spell worked! It was a cut out from a damn off-brand Cosmopolitan. It was stupid sleepover bullshit. It was - It’s wasn’t- You couldn’t have summoned a real, actual factual demon into your apartment. No, this has to be a prank or intruder or - or hallucination even.

You try to shove at his chest as soon as he retracts his hands, a weak attempt at escaping. Part of you expects to phase through him - to wake up in your quiet, dark bedroom. Except his hands are very much real and warm as they pin your wrists back against the mattress. The silhouette of massive wings block out the little bit of moonlight that might have otherwise drifted through the slit in your curtains. You can barely make him out, now. Those too-bright eyes glint like a cat’s as he stares down at you.

“Now, why did ye call me, little one?” He leans in, nose brushing against yours before ducking his head down to lick a long stripe up your neck.

Your face heats, mouth struggling to form words. “I… didn’t think it was real…”

“Tha’s not a reason.” Too-sharp teeth nip at the shell of your ear.

“I just… why do you want to know anyway?” You spit defensively, thrashing under him in a sudden burst of confidence - or desperation. You’re not sure. It does fuck-all for you, the beast pinning your thighs under his weight. A deep, warning growl rumbles in his chest. You freeze at the sound - some ancient instinct telling you to stop all action and pray it saves you.

“It’s no’ polite t’dodge my question, bonnie.”

You whimper involuntarily, his sharp teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck with just enough pressure to threaten a bite. The words tumble from your lips near incoherently, “I haven’t- I’ve only been with one person… for a long time. I’m nervous… about a second…”

He hums. Something brushes your shin - a tail, you think. You can’t make it out in the dark. “Whit’s yer name, doll?”

You blurt it, a little horrified at giving that information to some supernatural creature. For some reason you find yourself following it up with, “What’s yours?”

He laughs and mulls it over, jaw clenching briefly, as if he can’t make up his mind about what it is. “Call me Soap, aye?”

You snort despite yourself and he - Soap - quirks a brow. “Weird name for a demon.”

“Incubus.” He corrects.

You have half a mind to complain when he tears your nightgown off before you can react. The cloth rips fast, practically disintegrating in his rough hands. That’s until he climbs down the bed, taking one nipple between his lips and flicking the other. Your back arches, hands fisting the sheets. You let out an indignant ow when he bites down on the fat of your breast, leaving a mark just shy of drawing blood. Soap ignores it, continuing to lavish them with attention as he sees fit. Your thighs press together and you can’t help but squirm, becoming desperate for more in spite of the voice in your head telling you to run. He senses it, you think, moving down your body leaving nips and bites in his path before settling between your thighs. He takes your underwear off in much the same fashion, turning them to shreds in barely a moment. His wings disappear into the shadows - there but not simultaneously. Shifting in and out of your vison.

“Look a’ tha’.” He sighs. “Whit a pretty pussy. Cannae believe yer lettin’ her go unused.”

You whimper and attempt to close your legs, failing when those massive hands hook under your knees and push them up to your chest as far as they can go. His nails - near claws - dig into the flesh of your thighs. A gasp tumbles from your lips as his tongue drags through your folds. Soap places a light kiss your your clit before following with a harsh suck that leaves you twitching and whining. Part of you feels ashamed for enjoying this as much as you are - for lapping up the attention from this stranger like a starved dog - but it feels too unreal for you to really care. Too fictional to apply your real world morals or sensibilities.

You yelp in surprise when his tongue flicks over your back hole, causing him to chuckle and mutter, “Tha’s for later.”

He doesn’t leave you time to think on that promise. You throw your head back as he slips his tongue inside. Fuck, it’s deep. Unnaturally long - built to systematically pull pleasure from you just like the rest of him. You find yourself grinding down onto it despite yourself, pent up body giving into instinct and abandoning rational thought. You grab onto his stupid hair to further press him into you. He doesn’t seem to mind as a low guttural sound rumbles through his chest.

A thick finger circles your entrance, replacing his tongue in one swift motion. He doesn’t wait to add a second - the stretch causing you to hiss. His fingers are big. His proportions just on this side of incompatibly large. You wonder briefly, distantly, why his claw-nails aren’t hurting you. It’s hard to care much when the pad of a thick finger presses roughly against that spot that leaves you gasping. His lips wrap around your clit again, sloppily sucking and licking at the little bud as you careen closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches harshly, almost painfully, as you tumble over with a choked moan.

“So easy.” He chuckles. Your face gets hotter, an indignant pout forming on your lips. Rude. Your eyes drift over his body and, somehow for the first time tonight, you realize he’s already naked. Not a single piece of cloth in sight upon his arrival. You let yourself take in his strong torso, the thick dusting of hair from his chest all the way down to a healthy happy trail, down to-

“That’s not gonna fit!” You squeak, clumsily trying to back away. His cock hangs heavily between his legs; thick and veiny and already leaking. His hand on your sternum stops you in place. You’re sure he can feel the way your heart hammers away in your chest - practically beating against your ribcage. For a moment, you think you see sympathy in his eyes. Rather quickly you realize that warmth is, instead, hunger. An eagerness to swallow you whole dances across his sharp grin.

“We’ll make it fit.”

That’s all the warning you get before he’s bullying his cock inside you, inch by inch despite your shaky pleas to slow down. It burns, just crossing over the threshold into too much. Your teeth grind, a deep whine resonating in your throat. Your fingers claw at the sheets below you and your body jerks with odd shocks of pleasure and pain all tied up into one.

“Fuckin’ tight…” Soap groans.

“S’too much!” You practically sob, hips squirming to get away from the intrusion.

“Y’can take it.” His other hand grabs onto your waist to still you. You can’t stop the moan that forces its way past your lips as his hips meet yours.

You expect it to hurt when he fucks you - he doesn’t allow you time to adjust, each thrust practically punching the air from your lungs. Instead, it sends electricity up your spine. Your brows knit together, eyes screwed shut as warmth pools at the base of your spine. Soap hooks one of your legs around his hip, the other over his shoulder. You watch him through bleary eyes, the strange red of his hands contrasting with your natural, human skin. The way his hand nearly wraps around your thick calf. The way his core flexed with every thrust. The pleasured knot in his brow.

Soap lets your raised leg drop, pressing his weight down onto you and bracketing your head with his forearms. He smells so good - spices and trees. It invades your senses, leaving your mind somehow foggier than it already felt. He pulls you into a kiss. It’s not romantic, not emotional, just a searing exchange made up of messy teeth and tongue. He tastes like cinnamon. His fang catches your lip and copper coats your mouth. A light whine escapes him as he licks it up and sucks at the small wound.

“Please, please, please.” You pant rhythmically, chest heaving.

“Please, please, please.” He mocks, chuckling at your begging as he presses his thumb to your clit.

You practically seize, already overdone and so close to another. You’re babbling, you know that much, but the contents of your words are lost on you.

“Gonnae cum f’me?” Soap presses his nose to your temple. “Gonnae cum on this cock?”

You nod vigorously, nails leaving half-moons his strong shoulders. His thumb swirls your clit as he continues to spill filthy words into your ear. Things you’ve never thought of, otherworldly promises no man could keep, and groaned nonsense to match your own. Your climax slams into you. You practically howl, whole body shaking. Soap’s tongue drags up the side of your face, licking up sweat and tears. He’s not far behind, a growl rumbling through his chest; his hips stutter as he spills inside you.

You think, for a moment, as you desperately try to catch your breath, that it’s over. He’ll disappear off into the ether and you’ll wake up tomorrow from this strange dream. All of it a lonely, mentally unwell delusion that you can tell your therapist. After you book her. You really should if your brain is coming up with shit like this.

Except, he doesn’t stop. The slowed rocking of his hips immediately picks up again. He leans up, hands gripping your waist as you let out a long, keening whine. You try to shove at his hands, to kick your shaking legs. They’re clumsy. Weak and used and uncoordinated. The sweat on your palms leaves you slipping, unable to get a grip around his wrist. Soap just laughs - dark and unnatural. Far too entertained by your panic. A malicious spark lights his eyes as he stares down at you.

“S-soap!” You gasp, mind and body going into overdrive. “P-please! You don’t have to - you can - fuck - just stop!”

He laughs again, only speeding up - using the hold on your soft waist to fuck you back onto him. An anger flares up in you and you reel back, slapping your open palm against his face as hard as you can manage. It doesn’t do anything to deter him, his hips still slam full force into yours without so much as a stutter. His chuckle cuts off into a gravelly groan. “Do tha’ again.”

As much as you don’t want to give in to him, you do. You batter your fists against his chest, his arms, anywhere you can even slightly reach. You dig your nails into his hands. He just speeds up, lewd, wet sounds an loud slaps echoing in the room along with your moans and shouts. Soap pulls out just long enough for his arm to encircle your waist and flip you over as if you weigh nothing to him. You hardly get your bearings before he’s forcing his cock back in your cunt. His hands latch onto your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll bruise, if not be crushed completely.

“Please! Fuck - Soap - please - st-” You choke out, barely able to lift your face out of the sheets to breathe. Your whole body tremors violently. You try to reach behind yourself for him - to get some purchase, but all you’re met with his a hand firmly planted between your shoulder blades to hold you in place.

“Whit? Ye think tha’ was all? Jus’ one round an’ yer done?” The beast condescends, voice rough. “Nae, we’ve go’ forever. Well, until yer body gives out, at least. Gonnae shove my cock down tha’ pretty throat next, I think.”

The hand still on your hip lets go. Gathering slick from between your thighs, Soap pushes his thumb against your back hole. You gasp and attempt to lurch forward, to get away, but it doesn’t work. You can’t move out from under the weight of him. You feel a glob of something land there, quickly realizing he spit on you just to gasp as his thumb pushes inside. Part of you hates that it feels good, hates the words spilling from his lips about your unused ass. The rest of you succumbs to the fullness as his thumb is replaced by a finger, then another, working you open.

You whimper, fear mixing with the ongoing growing pleasure in your gut. It’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, soft body bruised and exhausted. Filled to the brim. Soap drapes himself over you, removing his fingers with almost a pop, and sinking his sharp teeth into the crook of your neck. His arms bracket your head once again, nearly flattening your against the mattress underneath him. You cry out, tears streaming as you feel another climax approaching, your pussy drooling down your thighs.

Something deep in the back of your brain snap as you cum. You lose yourself to base instinct. The heat in the room and anger in your chest consumes you. The air burns as it enters your lungs, sparking and electrifying your skin. Your head turns, eyes locking on the strong forearm anchored just above you. On impulse you lurch up, sinking your teeth in as far as they’ll go. A dog with prey caught in it’s maw. Soap growls in your ear - deep and animalistic. His blood isn’t quite coppery, not like yours, it’s far too sweet. It only spurs you on, your fingers twisting so tightly in the sheets you hear threads pop. Your other hand reaches back to dig your nails into his upper arm, to scratch at wherever you can reach. The sounds tearing through your throat aren’t right. Aren’t human. His arm muffles them slightly, the grunts and growls becoming borderline screams as you cum again so soon.

Soap flips you again, tearing his arm away from you and planting his feet flat on the bed, using his inhuman strength to help bounce you on his lap. You snarl, nails digging into his pecs to draw more blood. It drips down your lips, onto your chest, it covers the pads of your fingers. It’s animal. You’re just an animal.

“There ye are.” He grins, eyes practically glowing.

You don’t think much of it, you can’t think at all, really. Not in words, or even images. Pure instinct drives every action, your nose flaring at the scent of sex and blood that’s filled the room. Your skin is feverish, limbs shaking. Frenzied. That’s the word. Frenzied and rabid as you reach for strength you don’t have an meet his thrusts.

The two of you keep going that way - for how long, you aren’t sure. At some point you end up on the floor, at another he holds you against the wall by your throat. At another you hear the bed frame crack in two. Claw marks and bruises litter your body - litter his, as well. He pushes his cock into your back hole, not caring about the minimal stretch. You don’t need lube, you’ve drenched the both of you enough. The last thing you’re conscious for is Soap moaning in your ear as your hands wrap around his horns, holding on with all you have as your lips meet.

When you wake, your body feels heavy. Buried under something - blankets, you think. Though, your blankets at home have never had this weight to them. It’s more than quilts - your fingers tentatively running over both the texture of soft cloths and thick furs. It feels luxury, buttery smooth under your touch. Briefly, you shut your eyes again, content to drift back into blackness out of this cozy dream.

When you do peek your eyes open, a shudder runs down your spine. This isn’t your apartment. You shoot up, looking around the odd bedroom. It’s strangely decorated. Modern but with hints of something more scattered about. The smooth, painted walls of a modern home and ornate, lit fireplace of a castle mixed with current and antique furniture alike. A large couch sits in front of the mantle with embroidered, thick blankets hanging over the back. There’s a cracked door that seems to lead into a walk in closet. The area rug covering the far half of the room is a rich emerald green embellished with flowing designs in various golds and darker tones. Drawings and random scrawl are pinned to the far wall. There’s an open sketchbook on top of an old, hardwood desk with similar designs carved into it as the mantle.

Panic begins to surge as you open the massive curtains on the wall opposite the mantle to reveal floor to ceiling windows. They’re heavy like tapestries. You realize quickly that two of the panels are sliding doors onto a balcony, though you hesitate to step out. It would only corner you further. The sky looks like fire - waves of clouds lit in orange and yellow hues. It moves to fast. Streams of flames twist and run across the sky, overtaking one another.

You swing open the only other door that doesn’t appear to be the main exit. All it leads to is a bathroom. Large and expensive but nothing abnormal. Except for your shampoo inside the shower upon further inspection. Memories flood you, the night before comes in flashes. Was it the night before? Time feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. You’re sore, eyes heavy and body weak. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, dressed in some gauzy, black floor-length thing that leaves little to the imagination.

Just as you exit the bathroom to look for somewhere else to hide or run, the main door opens. Soap steps in, adjusting the sleeve of his t-shirt. You freeze, as if he won’t see you as long as you’re still.

It doesn’t work, of course. Those bright eyes lock onto you, thick brows raising. “Bonnie? Yer up!”

He looks… different. Less demonic. Not that anything has visibly changed much besides the fact that he’s wearing actual clothes. He simply fits into the scenery better - the room made to accommodate him. You realize part of the strangeness of it is the furniture size; meant for someone much taller and wider than you. The light helps as well, defining the contours of his face that you couldn’t make out in the dark. You back away from him as he approaches, pressing yourself against the wall as tightly as you can.

“So glad yer up. Are ye hungry? I can-“

“Where am I?” You cut him off meekly, eyes darting around the room.

“Och, my home of course.” Soap grins as if that explains anything.

“Why?” It doesn’t come out like the demand you want it to, more like a plea. Your voice cracks and you can’t meet his eye.

He tilts his head, eyes watching you, raking over you from head to toe. A predator observing it’s prey - deciding how best to catch it. “Ye live here, now.”

“What?” You gasp, trying to back further into the wall as if you could phase through it should you just try hard enough. “No- no, please! You have to let me go home! I need to go home!”

Johnny shrugs far too casually for your liking. “A soft little thing like ye? Nae, think I’ll keep ye fer the time bein’. Never met someone who could keep up like ye can. Go’ a lot of pent up energy in there, hen.”

“I don’t-“

“Yer gonnae feed me fer years tae come.” He continues as if you didn’t say anything at all, “Besides, I’ve go’ some friends tha’ I think would like ye.”

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 7: Price’s Date

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Price x Reader, inaccuracies around gun-related stuff, use of Sir (like a brat), something with cameras.

Not too far away, at the base, a phone rings inside Price's office. His eyebrow furrows for a second at the unknown ringtone, until he remembers is the burner phone he has with only your number on it, the same case for all the 141 task force. An extra security step he is more than willing to take. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, once he picks up the phone, worry clear in his voice. 

“Nothing!” You quickly reassure him. “I was just wondering… are you busy tomorrow?”

Price looks at his agenda, it is filled to the brim with meetings and things to do. “I could move some things, why?”

“I thought you would like to go on a date… with me?”

“Are you… are you asking me out on a date, doll?”

You remain silent for a second. “Maybe… Only if you want…”

“I do!” He quickly says before you can step back. “I just thought it would be me asking you out.”

“So do it.”

Price chuckles, the sound travelling through to your ears making you smile. “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You quickly answer. “I would like it very much, John.” 

The sound of his name leaving your mouth travelling straight to his dick. “Sounds like a date then, love. I’ll drop by the house tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you then the time, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect.” You mutter back. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, love.”

After another beat of silence, the beep beep beep indicates one of you hung up. 

Price claps his hands as if his football team just scored a goal before quickly collecting himself and getting back to work wanting to get done as much as possible. 

On the other side of the line, Johnny keeps teasing you about how you looked like a teenager asking his crush out while Simon laughs at the both of you.

“You are just teasing me ‘cause you are jealous you were not the first one.” You say sticking your tongue to him as you sit on Simon’s lap like a kid hiding behind his parent.

Johnny looks at you offended while Simon laughs at him before adding. “She got you there, mate”

“Good morning, lovie.” Price says smiling when you open the door for him in the morning, stepping aside to let him in. “Good morning, John. I’m still having breakfast, want to join me?” You ask smiling.

“I’ll join you to the end of the world, love. Breakfast is just a plus.” He says dropping a kiss to your forehead as he walks in. “I brought you this.” He adds, raising his hand and letting you see the bag he is holding.

“And what is that?” You ask taking the bag from his hand when he lends it to you. You leave it on the table as you fill a second cup with coffee for him, both of you sitting down before you take the bag again to check what's inside. “Oh! This is mine!” You say surprised.

Price smiles back at your surprised expression and says: “We went back to your apartment, picked up everything that we left the last time. It is mostly bathroom stuff, and some clothes we were able to find.” 

“Aw, John… Thank you, really.” You say looking through your stuff, until you come across an unfamiliar red colour. “John?”

“Yes, doll?”

“How many women being followed by terrorists do you know?

“Hm, a couple actually. You are the only one I'm hiding, though.”

“Johnathan!” You exclaim slapping his arms when he laughs. He grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles and keeps your hand on his.

“Keep saying my name and we will not be leaving the house today, love.” He says looking at your eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Another chance, John. How many?” You ask, raising a finger keeping the rest interlocked with his, raising an eyebrow. 

“Only you, love. I promise.” He says smiling softly, no teasing left in his voice. “I bought you that dress, for tonight, you silly girl. You could get me on my knees in your pyjama, but I assumed you would rather wear something fancier.”

“Oh.” You say a little bit embarrassed, but accepting the compliment. “Okay.” 

He chuckles softly at you, drinking his coffee and standing up, he cups your face with both his hands before kissing your lips harshly before pulling away. “I'll pick you up at seven, love. Be ready by then.” 

You nod quickly, he gives you one more kiss and he says goodbye before heading out to work.

You basically start getting ready after lunch, you don't have much to do anyway. So you run yourself a bath, taking your time, not a rush in you. 

It makes you think about how your life was just a couple of days ago, you didn't even have a bathtub and now? Two baths in two days! 

The dress Price brought you fits you like a glove, and you make a mental note to ask about it. Almost your whole back is exposed, the dress almost reaching the floor with the heels on. You choose a red lipstick that luckily matches the red colour of the dress and decide to do your hair up so it doesn't cover your back. 

You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, happy with the result. And if there was any bit of self-doubt left in you, it quickly dissipates the moment you walk into the living room where the other three men are currently at. Laughing when their mouth falls open like in the cartoons.

“Fuckin' hell, bonnie.” Johnny groans looking at you.

“Alright, is she ready?” Price asks entering the flat, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a suit that could be tailored by how well it fits him. You walk up to him smiling, bending down a bit to smell the flower. “For me?” You ask softly.

He nods, unable to find words to answer and helps you take the bouquet taking care that you won't touch any thorn. Once on your hands, you walk to the kitchen to put them in water. Price looks at you up and down when he sees the dress flow with every movement of your hips. He definitely needs to send a good bottle of wine to Laswell for her help choosing the dress. 

“Ready?” You ask looking at him once you are back and you find him with his eyes still staring at where they were before you entered the kitchen. He quickly looks up at your face and smiles. “And waiting, love. Let's go.” He finally says, lending you his arm which you gladly grab. He turns back to the three massive scary military men in your living room who look like kids who have gotten their desert stolen. “Good night, boys. Be nice, we'll see you tomorrow.” You chuckle blowing them a kiss and getting out first, what you don't see behind your back is the way Price raises his hand with his middle finger out and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuckin' bastard” Soap chuckles once the door closes.

Once on the street, you take a deep breath, savouring finally being out of the house. And Price must take notice because when both of you are sitting in the car (he opened the door for you, of course), he pulls your window down slightly letting the night air hit you. 

“I’m definitely making all of you take me out more often.” You say looking out the window.

“And we will do it gladly, love.” He says resting a hand on your thigh. “You just gotta ask.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You say smiling resting your hand on top of his. 

The street air flows through the open window taking with it the last worries on your mind, it is easy being with him. With the four of them to be honest.

“Are you hungry, love?” He asks, moving his hand from your thigh to the gearstick to switch gears as he gets closer to the restaurant. 

“I'm starving, Captain.” You say smiling when he side eyes after you talk. Chuckling softly at the double meaning of your words. Once the car is parked, he exits the car to open your door, holding his hand out for you. 

The restaurant must be the fanciest you have ever set foot inside of, as soon as you enter a waiter comes to walk the both of you to your table. The other guests are calmly eating at their table, the decorations of the plans and folding screens making it feel like a separate room for each couple. 

Price pulls your chair back to allow you to sit and then push you closer to the table. A waiter comes after a while to take note, and not much later comes back with a bottle of wine. He pours the glasses and Price and you are left alone.

“Can I ask you something, John?” You ask, resting your hand on top of his, caressing it with your fingertips. He quickly nods, and you add: “How… how did the relationship between the four of you work?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It's a bit blurry how it started to be completely honest… As a team we expend so much time together, we must trust each other with our lives, and sometimes these things just… happen?” He ask, just to check if you understand. He continues when you nod. “It was not the four of us at first, Soap and Simon were the closest and as far as I know, the ones who did it first. Then Gaz and I were sent on a mission together for a couple of months and it simply happened. Then Gaz and Soap talked about it, they got drunk and did it too. After that, we realised we were not hurting anybody so… we continued.”

“And now there is me…” You add, looking down at his hand. There is an underlying question, about how exactly do you fit in a relationship that seems to have been built around a web of trust and years of knowing each other. And now you appear, and in 48 hours, you are in the centre of it all. 

“And now there is you.” Price answers, interlacing his fingers with yours. “And we are really happy you are, you know that right?” He asks, and he squeezes your hand when you don't answer him. “Look at me, birdie.”

“I'm sorry.” You mutter looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I know we talked about it, but I can't help it, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, easy now, love. Don't apologise.” He says, extending his arm easily reaching the other side of the table to cup your face. “What is it, love?”

“It's just… you are like… bigger than the CIA.” You whisper, unsure of how much you can say. “And it's not only like, the name. The four of you are just… so big, and cool, and handsome, and nice, and kind, and strong, and you can fight, and people respect all of you… and me… I'm a fucking loser.” 

“Now, that's where I'm going to stop you. Because I'm not letting you shit talk about my girl, birdie.” He says, bopping your nose with his finger as he does. “You are not a loser. You are breathtaking, you have a job, you have a house, you have a car, you are smart, you are kind and for god's sake, birdie, you have an entire SAS task force begging you to even look at them. Take pride in that, love.”

“But that's not the same, Price. What if… what if my apartment didn't have the hiding spot on top of the closet?” You ask, and you can see his expression change, disliking to even think of the possibilities. “I would have been at their mercy so fucking easy, you remember how easy it was for Soap and Ghost to pick me up and handcuff me to Gaz. They'll raise their voice at me a bit too much and they'll have me at my knees begging for forgiveness because that's the only thing I know how to do. Fucking useless…”

“And if you knew how to fight back?” He asks, looking directly at your eyes. “Would it help you feel better?”

“I don't want to be even a bigger burden, Price.” You sigh, unconsciously pouting slightly.

“That's not what I asked, birdie. Would it help if you knew how to fight back? How to defend yourself?” He asks, and when you nod, he nods back, thinking to himself. “All right, luckily for you, I know just the Captain to teach you a couple of tricks.” He says, making you smile. At that moment, the food arrives at the table and when the waiter walks back, he says; “So eat up, we have things to do tonight, love.

Dinner turns out to be delicious, nothing that you didn't expect. And after enjoying each other company through it, he pays for the food and walks along you back to the car.

You still don't know what's his plan, and he won't tell you any more information than what he has already. It's not until later, when he is already driving that you start to recognise the road and you ask: “Are we going to the base?”

He nods. “I'm gonna train you. Is as good as any time to start doing it, right?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Is it?” You ask, looking at the clothes the both of you are wearing. “Aren't we dressed a little bit too fancy?”

“Well, you never know when you are going to be attacked, it'll add to the realism.” He answers chuckling, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking your head and smiling as well. 

Once he parks in the base, he opens your door again and the both of you walk hand in hand to the shooting range. He turns on the lights to illuminate the empty room and walks to one of the cupboards on the side. He opens it, taking a gun, some bullets and a pair of glasses for eye protection from the inside. He puts the glasses on you, smiling for himself and hands you the gun.

You pick it up, a bit surprised by the weight and look up at him. “Straight to shooting? I was expecting maybe some sparring for my first class, John.” 

He chuckles nodding before saying: “I know, but it's really weird to find the shooting range empty. So let's take advantage of it, shall we? First lesson, how to reload the gun.”

He explains to you how to do it, stirring something in you as he uses a different from what you are used to. You assume that's how he talks to his soldier when instructing them, and even though a part of you is curious about what he must sound like when he is pissed at them, you follow the instructions earning yourself a “Good girl” that has you smiling and blushing like an idiot.

He steps behind you, separating your feet with his foot and telling you what's the best position. His chest is pressed to your back and his hands are around your hands. He points to a little relief on the end of the barrel and says: “This is the front sight, and this is the rear sight.” He says pointing to a second one on the back. “Align them, and then you'll know where you are aiming. Once you have done that, take the safety back and pull the trigger. Careful with the recoil, I'll help you with this one.”

You follow his instructions, grabbing the gun with steady hands so it doesn't fly away once you press the trigger and when you can see the target through the align sight, you shoot. Price's hands over yours keep the gun in place, and he looks up to the screen on top of you to see where the bullet hit and he whistles looking back at you. “You hit the target, birdie. Quite impressive, love.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You say and chuckle when he looks at you with a face. “What? You don't like it when I call you sir?”

“You have a gun on your hands, birdie. Behave.” He says sternly but still gently. “Shoot again.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say smiling and going back to aiming the gun. Just when you are about to shoot, Price presses his growing boner against your arse, completely distracting you and sending the bullet out or the target.

“Birdie! That was worse.” Price says behind you, with a fake worrying tone.

“What did you expect?” You exclaim, looking back at him offended.

“Now, now. It's part of the training, love. You need to work through the distractions.” He says chuckling.

“Yeah, I'm sure all of the boys went through it.” You reply.

“Gaz did.” He says simply. “And he didn't complain, so back to work.”

You groan, clearly knowing what he planning on doing and getting ready for the teasing he is about to put you through. You close one eye to be able to focus more clearly, and position the gun to shoot and again, just before you pull the trigger, he rubs against you making you miss the target. He laughs softly behind you and you groan pulling your head back “John!” you whine

“What is it, love?” He asks nonchalantly. “I am not going to learn like this.” You answer looking back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says peppering your exposed shoulder with kisses. “You are right, I’m sorry, birdie, you just make me lose my mind so easily. Get back at it, I’ll try my best to not eat you up for now.”

You shake your head at his dramatism and raise the gun again. Once Price is back in Captain's mood it is fairly easy to get the hang of it, after a while letting you hold the gun on your own, the recoil shaking your whole body the first couple of shots. Not that Price shamelessly ogles your whole body when it jiggled because of the shoot. At the end, and actually fairly soon you get more and more clean shots, getting closer and closer to the bullseye earning yourself a pat on the back by Price. “You’re a natural, birdie. I’ll keep you in mind if we get an opening.” He jokes making you laugh.

“Sure, I’m sure I’ll be at you guys level in a week.” You joke back and then look at him. “You can go back now.”

“Sorry?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“You know, back to that… distraction training thing.” You say, struggling to keep the eye contact and when he gets what you are talking about he laughs loudly before going back to hugging you from behind. “Does my sweet girl want a bit more extra training?” He says grinding against your arse, his boner more prominent now than on his last try. You nod breathless, unable to speak. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir”

A groan is everything you hear before he grabs your hips pushing you flush against him. He kisses your neck leaving a wet trail as he goes up to your ear. “Shoot the gun, birdie. Don’t miss.”

You try to focus as hard as you can with his warm mouth against the skin of your neck and his hard dick in between your ass cheeks; when you shoot it goes terribly out of the target and when he realizes a slap lands on your clothed cunt making you shake a whine escaping your mouth. “Again, birdie.”

As you adjust the gun, you feel his hand find its way under your dress beginning to rub your cunt over your underwear. When you are about to shoot, he presses his index finger against your clit making you miss again and another slap land on you, harder with the loss of the dress in the way. “You are getting these underwear ruined, birdie. Such a nasty girl. Try again, and I'll give you something.”

Once again, you raise the gun, closing your eyes for a second when he circles your clit with his fingertips. He gets his hand under your underwear, slipping his finger back and forth from your hole to your clit. You can feel your whole body shake, but somehow your hand remain steady and when you shoot this time you feel his finger enter your cunt forcing you to close your eyes. You leave the gun on the table, not trusting yourself with your eyes closes and whole body shaking again once Price begins to piston his finger in and out of your cunt making you moan his name. 

His other arm finds his way around your neck, pushing you up and keeping you in a headlock only able to moan his name and take his finger in your cunt. “Look at the screen, birdie.” He whispers in your ear, and when you look up you notice the bullet hit straight into the bullseye, a weak smile appearing on your face. 

“Such a good fucking girl, birdie. Shooting so good so soon.” He whispers against your skin as he enters a second finger into you making you whine at the stretch. “Now I need to give you something, right?” He asks and you quickly nod moaning. “How about I give you a good fuck, birdie? Hm? Almost my whole team has already got a taste of fucking your sweet little cunt, and here I am, waiting for you to let me get inside, love. You want that, birdie? Are you gonna let the Captain fuck you stupid, hm?”

You eagerly nod earning a chuckle from him, but his fingers don't stop fucking your cunt the ball of his hand hitting your clit with every thrust sending a shock up your spine. You can only whine and moan at his mercy as you feel your orgasm approach, for a second you fear he might leave you wanting but you quickly realize that he much rather have you crying from overstimulation. You come with a loud moan of his name as you whip your head back on his shoulder unable to stay still as he keeps going not slowing down making your juices lazily drip down his hand.

“Ask for it, birdie. Please, I want to hear you ask for it.” He says, moving the arm from your neck letting you hold yourself up holding onto the table, slowing his fingers but still slowly fucking you.

“Please… Fuck me, please, John.” You half moan, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Price groans letting his forehead rest on your back, laughing to himself. “Birdie, you are going to kill me one of these days.” He says before dropping a kiss to where your exposed back begins and dragging his tongue up to your nape making you whine and arc your back onto him. 

You hear the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone, and you feel his fingers slip from your cunt only to appear right on your lips. “Taste yourself, birdie. Taste how fucking delicious you are.” You take his finger on your mouth, making him groan as you hear him fist himself; his tip grazing your wet cunt once he moves your underwear to the side. He pushes his finger down on your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth and a loud moan leaves your mouth as his dick enters your pussy stretching you out. 

And then, a series of praises and compliments begin to fall from Price’s mouth as he fucks you that takes your mind to a blissful state where the only thing you can do is moan and take in the love Price is pouring onto you. “My sweet fucking girl… taking my dick so fucking good, the best fucking pussy I have ever had, love. You just fucking ruined me for everyone else, gonna keep you with me forever, hm? You’ll like that, birdie? Keeping you with me forever, and with the boys. Oh, birdie, if you have heard them… fuck… fucking obsessed with you, birdie. Stay with us, birdie. We’ll be good, I promised. We’ll take care of you, of everything you want, everything you need.”

To hear the respectable Captain Price practically whine in your ear, begging you to stay with him has you weak on your knees and you fear you may collapse when the hand on your hips disappear for a moment. It quickly comes back, and the hand inside your mouth goes out grabbing your jaw instead and forcing you to look at the screen, and the sight makes your eyes widen. 

On the screen is the clear image of you getting your gut rearranged by the 141 Captain, being livestream by the security camera of the shooting range. Price goes back to whispering filth in your ear when he feels you clench. “Look how good you fucking look, birdie. Going to fucking steal the footage, watch it every night. How about we let the boys see it, hm? How good you take my cock on this tight fucking pussy, hm? Like a fucking champ.”

You whine clenching again earning a groan from him, unable to peel your eyes away both by his hand and by the hypnotic image on the screen. The mental image of Price or any of the boys pleasuring themselves with the ongoing images has you getting closer and closer to the edge, and Price must be able to tell because he gets a hand down to your clit rubbing quick circles in it making you cum with a loud moan as you clench on him like a vice. He groans behind you, your hands find their way back to the edge of the table when he takes back the hand from your jaw, just to slap your ass making you whine and grabs your hips fucking you hard, the sound of his hips hitting the meat of your ass filling the room. You wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to bruises on your body, Price chasing his own release like a madman moaning your name when he finally reaches it releasing his hot cum inside of you. 

Still buried inside of you, he hugs you from behind his forehead resting on your shoulder, groaning when he feels you clench around him from the aftershock of your orgasm. He raises, grabbing your leg in the process and raising it, leaving you spread-legged directly to the camera. “Show the boys, doll. Did I fuck you nice, birdie?” He asks, and when you nod without talking he gives you a quick thrust with his softening dick making you moan of overstimulation. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir.” You moan softly, and whine when Price bends down biting the joint of your shoulder and neck hard, possessiveness taking over him and urging him to leave a mark on you as if his cum leaking from your cunt around his dick wasn't enough. “Good fucking girl, birdie. So fucking good.” He says licking the mark of his teeth he just left. He leaves your leg down, dropping kisses around your shoulder before asking: “Can you hold still for a minute, birdie? I’m gonna be back in just a minute, I promise.” You nod, leaning more of your weight onto the table making him chuckle and you hear him walk away. 

Being true to his word, he comes back just a minute later, a pen drive in his hand and two hours' worth of footage deleted from the security system. He lifts you bridal style and he starts to walk to his room, turning the lights off on his way out. 

Once inside his room, he takes your clothes off as well as his own and gets in the shower with him. A warm innocent shower, just him washing the sweat and saliva of your body. Once the both of you are cleaned, he covers you with a towel sitting you on the toilet and uses a wet towel to clean the make-up off your face. The both of you brush your teeth in comfortable silence and then he dries you up. Neither of you bothers to put on any clothes before getting under the cover, the heat of each other body keeping you warm.

Price cups your face, finally kissing you for the first time in the whole night, sealing the deal of all the promises and feelings he professed for you. He lets you readjust your position against him before hugging you and whispers before falling asleep. “Sleep nice, birdie.”

Hii 💗

Hope you liked the first date with the boys, Price won the poll like, with a huge difference 🤣 so I hope I met the expectations.

I already have most of the other dates planned, but let me know if you would like for something to happen hehe.

Thank you so much for the support, make sure to leave a comment if you liked it so I can see, really I love to read the comments so don't be worried about writing.

If you want to be added to the permanent link it is on my masterlist, and I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

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[latenightdaydreams]

Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩

yes!! ofc!! 💗

Roommates Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 Part 3

Master List (✍🏽)

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk

2.3k word count

🏠

.

.

Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.

Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.

“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.

“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.

Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.

“You don’t have to do everything for me.”

“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”

“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.

“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”

König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.

“I’d like that.”

A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”

That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.

Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.

König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.

“Are you okay?”

König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like the home he’s wanted all of this time.

“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.

“Anywhere from six months to a year.”

“That’s a long time.”

“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.

“When do you leave?”

“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.

Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.

“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.

König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”

This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.

It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.

You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.

“I want you too.”

Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.

You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.

König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s. 

He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.

His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.

“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.

König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.

“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.

“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.

A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.

Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.

Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.

You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.

His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.

“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.

“Are you going to squirt for your König?”

“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”

König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.

His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.

König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.

“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.

König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.

“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.

“Fuck me.”

König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.

“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.

“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.

Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.

“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”

Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.

“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.

König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.

“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.

His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours, Liebling.”

König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.

“What does Liebling mean?”

“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”

“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.

König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”

Part 3

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I have a few fic ideas that would be set when the reader first gets to the Night Court. I also have more Azriel imagines planned that wouldn't be in this series so look out for those! Thank you so much for all of the comments and love on this story, I appreciate it more than you know! <33

Summary: After months of healing, there is still something weighing you down and Azriel wants nothing more than to help you.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: bad body image, nudity but not straight up smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

A few months had passed since everything happened and you were feeling better for the most part. Azriel had more than proved himself and you two were best friends again. You now trained with the Valkyries and enjoyed their company. You had also been helping Amren out with translating old texts a lot lately.

You enjoyed having work to do, you started to feel like your old self again. But there were still a few things that gnawed at you.

The main thing were the scars. The physical reminder of what you went through weighed you down. You covered yourself up as much as you could everyday so no one else saw them.

This seemed to be working for you until one day, Azriel came up to you with a big smirk on his face.

"I got you a present!" the still smirking male told you

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop buying me presents!" you told him

You had never received so many presents in your life and you doubt he has ever given this many. It started out small like bringing you a coffee while you worked, then he would buy you little things here and there like a notebook for your research. Eventually, he was buying you more expensive things like jewelry every other day.

Every time you would tell him you didn't need anything, and every time he responded with the same thing - "I can't help myself, I saw it and thought of you"

The butterflies you would feel were always better than the gifts.

Amren was sitting beside you watching the interaction with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm? A chocolate croissant this morning and now another surprise? Two in one day? Seems like a new record." she spoke in a slightly joking tone, enjoying poking fun at the spymaster

You and Az made eye contact and quickly looked away, a slight blush taking over both of your faces.

After his confession all those months ago, you both began to try and be friends again. You knew he was waiting for you to be ready for more but you weren't sure how to go about it all. It was easier to push those thoughts away for now.

Deciding to help the shadowsinger escape all the joking, you stood up to go to him. He held his hand out to you, and led you up to your room. Before entering, he put his hands over your eyes, using them as a blind fold.

"Is this really necessary?" you giggled

"Of course it is! Now walk forward" he told you and you could hear the smile in his voice

You walked, well shuffled, into your room with him close behind you. He started a countdown.

"3...2...1...Open!" he shouted, removing his hands

On the wall in front of your bed was a brand new mirror. Dread filled your body. The thought of having to see yourself every time you changed made you want to vomit.

Azriel of course noticed the reaction and immediately began to worry.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I knew it was stupid, Cass helped me pick it out and he has the worst taste." Az babbled on.

"No, I love it." You told him. If you let him know you didn't want it, then he would want to know the real reason. You couldn't explain it all to him right now.

He gave you a look that showed he didn't fully believe you but he decided to let it go.

You gave him a hug and thanked him for it. It truly was a beautiful mirror. It was huge and had the most detailed golden flowers all around it. Perhaps you could focus on that and not the nasty marks that littered your body.

Night time came faster than you would have liked and the thought of changing in front of the mirror seemed like too much. You knew you needed to do this, another step in the healing process.

Eventually you made your way up to your room and began to get ready for bed.

You started to peel off your clothes from the day, breathing through each piece that came off. Once you were fully naked you couldn't take your eyes off of your body.

How would anyone be able to find you beautiful when you looked like this? You wrapped your arms around your stomach as tears sprung to your eyes. You began to softly cry.

Suddenly, you saw movement in the mirror behind you. You lifted your head until you were making eye contact with Azriel through the mirror.

Shadows shot out to cover you, helping you keep your modesty.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked

The name only made you shudder, knowing he wouldn't call you that after seeing your body.

"I'm hideous. My body doesn't even look like its mine anymore." you voice cracked

His heart broke for you, and he ached to hold you.

"Can I come closer?" He asked

You nodded and he walked until he was behind you, so close you could feel his chest as he took a breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He stated and laid his hands on your shoulders, moving them down your arm until they rested on top of your hands. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your head.

"You haven't even truly seen me to know that." you said

"I don't need to see you to know that it is true. But if you think that, then show me." he stated

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears.

"If you're comfortable, let me see." he spoke confidently

You nodded and let him know it was ok to remove the shadows. He bent down and placed a light kiss on your shoulder, right on one of the marks, then on another right next to it.

Slowly the shadows pulled away from your body and you were left compeltely naked. He was staring at your body through the mirror, in awe of you.

He walked til he was standing in front of you.

"Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable." He whispered

You nodded and he got even closer. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed a scar on your palm. Then moved to the other arm and kissed a scar by your elbow. He got down on his knees and looked up at you through his lashes.

"Beautiful" he said right before kissing a rather large scar on your stomach.

He didn't stop until he kissed every mark and scar on your body. He stood up and took your face in his hands.

"Yep, its just as I thought, you are the most beautiful being that I have ever seen." He spoke as he leaned down to your face

"But I'm broken, these scare are proof" you cried

"These scars are proof of your strength. When I look at you, I don't see anything broken. I see the the love of my life. I see intelligence, kindness, power... I see my mate." he confessed

You inhaled sharply and were confused until you felt it too. A tiny pull on your chest as if someone was tugging a string attached to you.

"You're my mate," he smiled then stopped himself, "I found out when Lucien carried you through the doors and none of us knew if you were even alive. I didn't want to tell you because of everything going on and I wanted to earn your love, didn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were so shocked, you still hadn't spoken. In a way, you were glad he kept it from you. If you had known he was your mate you aren't sure what you would've done. All of the trauma you went through must've stopped you from feeling it too.

"I understand if you don't want to accept it. After everything I did-" he started but you immediately shut down that thought

"You have more than proven yourself to me Az. You are my mate and there is nothing that could change that" You told him.

He growled softly when you called him your mate.

You both continued smiling at each other, wrapped in each other's arms.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to continue worshipping you for the rest of the night." he purred.

"It's only fair, you did say you loved groveling" you whispered and he smiled and leaned in.

"Wait!" you quickly said placing a hand on his chest.

He looked confused but you ran over to your bedside table and grabbed the chocolate croissant he had gotten you earlier. You handed it to Az with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he questioned

"It is the only thing I have been certain of in a long time." you responded and he ate some of the pastry.

He set the food down and put one of his hands on your waist, the other on your neck. Slowly he leaned in and placed a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a much longer, more passionate one and he grunted into your mouth.

The frenzy quickly kicked in and Azriel ended up worshipping your body for the next couple of days.

You still weren't fully healed and you probably wouldn't be for a while but that was okay because you had Azriel and the rest of your family to help you get there.

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[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

conflict [noun] /ˈkɒnflɪkt/

1 : a serious disagreement or argument, typically a protracted one.

2 : a state of mind in which a person experiences a clash of opposing feelings or needs.

3 : a serious incompatibility between two or more opinions, principles, or interests.

fourteen — conflict. wc: 1.0k

to be perfectly honest, you are a mess.

these past few days have been nothing but misery, not only have you lost your best friend, whilst actively being reminded of the worst few years of your life, but you have been punished for a wrong-doing which wasn’t entirely, morally, your wrong-doing.

taeyong knew what he was doing, he was trying to ignore his own faults by making you seem like you’d done worse. and only you know the truth behind his actions.

he had lied.

honestly, you didn’t mean what you said about jaehyun, and you hated yourself for saying it, knowing that deep down, at the time, you wanted nothing more than for him to get a place at the college.

but some things have to be twisted in order to make them straight again.

and you were never going to let your previous feelings for him shine through, never before and never again.

that part of you was gone.

on the verge of falling asleep, you’re abruptly awoken by the buzz of your phone. you scramble around to find it until you lay your eyes on the name of the person who sent you the message, your heart sinks in your chest.

your mind is whirring around in your head, making you dizzy with confusion. he’s here? he’s at your dorm? at 2am? you start to believe you’re going crazy, that this text isn’t real and you’re imagining the screen infront of you. but it’s when you hear the familiar triple-knock on your door that you feel your feet firmly planted in reality.

he’s here.

you make your way to the door, hesitant to open it, you look through the peephole.

there he is, hair and shirt soaked through from the rain, a look of distaste on his features. he’s here, and he’s not happy.

taking a breath to calm yourself, you open the door.

his eyes look to yours, jaw clenching and eyes softening, a contrast that you recognise from the time you accidentally spilled jaehyun’s coffee all over yourself, in which he apologetically cleared up for you with a gentleness you wish you could see in him again. but you’ll never be able to see him like that, not after everything you’d heard, everything you’d experienced.

you’re thrown from your nostalgia when jaehyun speaks, his voice tired and quiet, but you still hear him over the ringing of your ears.

“yn..” it’s just your name, but you understand the word to be so much more. he’s angry, livid even, but he’s stopping himself from displaying it as much as he wants to, and you don’t know why. “you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“why are you here?” you whisper, sternly.

“will you ever stop hating me?”

the question throws you off guard, and you take a step back as an almost reflex to his words.

“what?”

“it’s been 2 years, and yet you still hate me like it was yesterday. will you ever stop.” he snaps, his voice raising.

“no.” you reply, honestly.

you’ll never stop hating him, how could you ever do any opposite after learning he never even liked you at all, whilst you liked him.

whilst you loved him.

he’s looking at you, trying to read you, blinking the wet strands of his hair out of his eyes. he must have come here immediately after reading taeyongs tweet, he lives on the other side of the campus. his eagerness has you thinking.

“you’re pathetic, you know that?” you continue, “ruining my life again, and again. i might still continue to hate you, jaehyun, but you’re the one giving me all these easy reasons to.”

his eyebrows furrow, either in anger or confusion, you can’t tell.

you carry on, “and to hear from, giselle, my bestfriend… how are you still humiliating me after all these years?!”

“giselle? it was her?” his head cocks to the side in question, but you don’t care that he’s asking who it was.

“god…. you don’t even know her name…” you’re disappointed, hurt for the part of you that still had hope that jaehyun wasn’t just trying to mess with you.

“just forget it, i don’t know why you came here, and frankly, i don’t care.”

there’s a pause, a beat where you both catch your breath, waiting for the next person to come up with some kind of witty remark, an argument which will anger the other in more ways than imaginable.

but jaehyuns next words are nothing of the kind.

“im here because i can’t carry on like this.”

“what?”

“you, me, hating eachother. i can’t do it.”

“can’t do it? fuck you jaehyun.”

“im serious.”

now you’re the silent one. you’re trying to decipher what he means but nothing comes to your mind.

he continues. “yn-“ but you cut him off.

“no, you don’t get to do this. i’ve cried for months because of you. i don’t have much, jaehyun, but please let me have fact that i can hate you as much as i want and it means nothing, it’s the one choice i can make, you can’t take that from me. you’ve always hated me, and now i hate you too. deal with it jae.”

his eyes falter at your use of his nickname and you regret it the moment it leaves your lips.

you don’t understand what he’s trying to do, but you know he’s trying to mess with you, it’s all he’s done since the day you met him, and it’s all that he will ever do.

“fine.” he says. “i’ll keep hating you, if that’s what you want.”

you nod, and his anger subsides for a moment when he notices your acceptance.

he turns to leave your dorm entrance, and you watch as he begins to shuffle his feet to turn his back to you.

but he pauses before he moves away.

turning his head over his shoulder, he mumbles one final sentence before continuing his way out.

“and yn, for the record.. i had no idea she was your friend.”

you slam the door in his face.

mlist — next

notes; hmmmm i wonder what’s going on in jaehyuns head 🤔🤔🤔 i promise things will start making sense soon!! yn is not having a great time rn but it can only get better from here🤭🤭

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.5

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, toxic! ellie, side gig dealer ellie, weed, tattoo artist ellie, texts between reader and ellie, angst, smut

a/n - last part!! bro last part had a bunch of letters which were bigger and I kept fixing it then coming back to see some of them got big again?? it was like playing whac-a-mole I swear. also I just want to say thank you to everyone who read and interacted, it was so nice to share my writing with people who enjoyed it<33

-

Sitting before you was a cappuccino cup with a perfectly formed latte art leaf. You stared at it, slowly inhaling and exhaling the warm, sweet smell. It soothed you, but you could still feel a blade made of pure anxiety stabbing your guts. What were you supposed to do with the cup again?

“Hey!”

You turned your head to see your co-worker holding three iced coffees in his hands, gesturing his head to the pickup counter where a growing crowd of customers waited. It was the afternoon, one of the busiest times for coffee shops.

“Shit,” you muttered, and quickly brought over the cup to the counter and called out the customer’s name.

Your head this week had been either entirely filled with Ellie, that moment in your bedroom with the thumping and moaning, or absolutely nothing but a strong sense of dread you were too fuzzy to understand. And you hated it. You hated how pathetic it made you feel, to have someone who didn’t give a fuck about you occupying your mind 24/7, turning your new life into a mess after only having been in it for a few weeks.

You knew who Ellie Williams was from the start. Dina, one of her best friends, had told you. You knew she didn’t date, didn’t get attached or form romantic connections. It wasn’t like you’d been itching to make things official while you were still talking. You were still getting to know each other. You understood the two of you were not exclusive, and you yourself had not thought of giving a name to your relationship yet.

But you also understood yourself. You knew you’d caught feelings for Ellie because that was how you operated, and because it was Ellie, perfect and strong and raw, with her stupid green eyes and her freckles. The exact type of person you’d imagined you’d fall for. It was achingly, painfully obvious to you where you’d gone wrong. You had let the tiniest seed of hope grow in your heart.

From the way Dina and Jesse had talked about the other girls Ellie involved herself with, it had seemed like she didn’t text them as often as she did you. It hadn’t seemed like she would constantly invite them over, or invite herself over to theirs, or talk until late at night, or give them free weed just so she could get high with them.

But these were all assumptions. Dina hadn’t spoken about the topic since that night, and you hadn’t asked. You two did talk about what had happened the night of the smoke sesh, and about the constant texting and hanging out and occasional sex which had followed, but she never gave you any reason to think this meant more to Ellie than any of her other flings.

The seed in your heart felt like a shard of glass.

-

The walk home was cold and bitter. Your manager had sent you home early because you lacked so much focus she’d thought you were sick. Summer was reaching into Fall, and today was already colder than it should be. Not only that, but you had made the mistake of wearing another of your dresses which only went a little further than your knees and left your ankles bare. You were shivering and feeling glad you were almost home when your gaze fell on the bodega not too far off from your apartment. The bell tinkled as you pushed open the glass door and went straight to the alcohol section, finding yourself some cheap wine.

As you waited for the man at the cash register to ring you up, you stared behind him at the wall of cigarette boxes with graphic images and ‘smoking kills’ labels. You were the same as Dina, who never bought entire packs for herself so she wouldn’t smoke too much. At that point it didn’t matter enough to stop you. You left the bodega with wine and a pack of Marlboro lights, rushing to the elevator, hoping you didn’t come across Ellie.

She’d texted you thrice since that weekend. The first time on Sunday morning, apologizing for not having answered your texts, telling you she was fine. She asked you how you were. You didn’t answer. The second text came on Thursday, asking you if you wanted to hangout, and the last on that same day hours later. A ‘hi’ accompanied with three question marks. It had all been so strange. The lack of texts supplying you with updates on her day or raising questions about yours at the start of the week had made you sure she had, in fact, ditched you. The text on Thursday came as a surprise, but you ultimately knew what she wanted. It was the only thing she had wanted from you all this time. For you to be her fuck buddy.

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply. You couldn’t, because you knew if you did, you’d say yes, and you would go to her apartment and the two of you would have sex because you needed to be next to her so badly that you’d take whatever she gave you, let her have you how she wanted.

So when the elevator opened on your floor and she was nowhere to be seen, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You opened your door and you put your plastic bag from the bodega on the kitchen counter and looked for the corkscrew and singular wine glass. The first portion poured out was thick, three fingers tall. You kicked off your sneakers and downed it quickly as you watched the sky darken from your couch, not daring to come out onto the fire escape which was sure to be all ice-cold metal and biting breeze.

The more you slipped into a tipsy state, the more tears fell from your eyes, until you pushed past that and became the same amount of drunk you had been at that club. Too drunk to mind the cold, drunk enough to crave a smoke and a view of the sunset from the fire escape.

You thumped your feet to the kitchen where you got the Marlboro pack and the Bic lighter you kept in your purse, just in case. An unlit cig on your lips, a half full wine glass in your hands and the lighter interlaced within your fingers, you opened the window and drunkenly stumbled out of it, leaving the glass on the ledge as you flicked on the lighter. The wind and the cold bars of the fire escape against your sock covered feet were a welcome shock to your system.

You took a puff. As you blew it out, you noticed that Ellie was staring at you from her own spot on her window, leaning on the ledge sideways, one leg up. She wore a black jumper and had a pencil and a sketchpad in her hands as well a joint in her mouth. She pinched it with two fingers and puffed out a cloud which flew north, away from you and the sunset.

The two of you said nothing. The sight of her sitting there, the light bathing her in gold and lighting up her eyes was too much to bear. You made a silent prayer that she couldn’t see the redness of your eyes from where you were standing. Then you rushed back to your window, taking the glass in your hands so you could pass without it dropping.

“Hey, wait.”

You froze, half of your body still on the fire escape. There was an urgency to her voice that tugged at you. You wanted to reprimand yourself for being stupid again, but it was no use, you could already feel the glass in your heart smoothing over before it sharpened again, bigger than it was before.

You pulled your body back out of the window and sat on the ledge, taking a drag of your cigarette in search of the nicotine induced feeling of your blood-pressure lowering.

Ellie observed you with knit together brows. When she realized you were waiting for her to speak, she opened her mouth.“Why haven’t you answered my texts?” It was a sentence uttered so softly. It sounded fraught and out of place coming from her, who hadn’t made too much of an effort to contact you.

“I…” you started. “I didn’t think it mattered that much.” You stared at your thighs and the hand which rested there, holding your cigarette.

“Why the fuck not?” Ellie said, her voice flipping from soft and pleading to angry and raw.

Your head snapped to her, then back down, your hands rushing up to dig into your hair. “Just—Please, stop.”

She put out her joint and tossed it along with the sketchpad and pencil into her apartment then stood up, making her way to the railing closest to you. Her hands gripped the metal, knuckles turning white. “Stop? How am I supposed to just stop? I’ve been losing my goddamn mind this week. Why are you ignoring me?”

Hot tears gathered on your eyes, spilling over when you blinked.

“Hey, are you drunk? Are you even fucking listening—“ Ellie’s voice died off when you looked at her and she saw the wetness of your eyes and cheeks. She kept her grip on the railing, but her hunched shoulders slipped and she drew back, standing straighter.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. “What’s going on?”

Your chest heaved, sucking in a breath only to let it out jagged. Ellie’s eyes were so wide. She was the deer caught in headlights now. The desperation you felt fed into the glass, turning your heart into an irritated and angry wound. It didn’t feel fair, that she should look so worried and broken when you were the one who had been made a fool, the one who had let her affection and hope and yearning become so big it swallowed everything else.

So you went to the railing too, and you let loose all the words piled tight in your throat. “You want to know why I haven’t answered your texts?” You gripped the bar, not caring how frozen and stiff your fingers felt. “Because, Ellie. I heard you fucking that girl that night.” She flinched. “And you know, it’s fine. Dina had already told me how it works with you. And it’s not like we ever agreed on being exclusive. So you did no wrong there. But fuck, It hurt. And I can’t hold it against you. But I also can’t—“ One of your hands flew to your chest, squeezing there at the fabric. You gazed into the distance and shook your head, tears streaming uncontrollably now. “I can’t keep seeing you when I know you don’t feel the same way I do. I have to protect myself.”

When you looked back at Ellie, her eyes were glistening. She stared at you for a second until she stepped back and broke her gaze, rushing through the window into her apartment.

Once she was gone you stepped back as well, a shudder rocking through you. You sat down on your window ledge, defeated. You had stripped yourself bare on that fire escape, made it painfully obvious that you had feelings for her, and in the face of them she had run off.

You were sucking in another drag of the Marlboro light when you heard a knock at your door. You turned your body but stayed where you were, too drunk to think of what to do. Then came three more knocks, hurried and loud. You sprung into action, putting out your cigarette on the kitchen counter, too agitated to think much into it.

You swung open the door, heartbeat coming in quick as you took in the sight of her. Ellie, standing at your door with wet eyelashes and half of her hair in a bun, just the way you liked it.

“Can I come in?” she croaked out.

You nodded and moved sideways, too dazed to speak. She sat on your couch, staring down at the sketchpad in her hands. You pulled up a chair from your dinner table and sat right before her. She lifted it up so you could see. On it were drawings of different items, all in her style. A bottle of wine. A switchblade. Her lighter. An apple split in half, the core of it showing. All of them with the same word written onto them; ‘survival’.

“I kept thinking about what you said. That first time we went out.” She looked at you. “I think you’re a lot like me.”

You wiped at your face, which was now sticky with dried tears.

“I was fucking stupid.” Ellie sighed and set down the sketchbook. “I shouldn’t have fucked that girl, especially when you could hear it—“ She rubbed her hands on her face, her voice cracking. It was solid again the next time she spoke. “But I did it because I was scared. Dina told the truth about how it is with most girls. I wanted it to be different with you.”

“But I’d been such an asshole to you in the beginning, and I didn’t know what to do with that, and I certainly didn’t know what to do with how I felt for you, cause I hadn’t felt it in such a long time and I was so terrified of messing it up that I guess I just thought, fuck it. It’s not going to work out. Let’s just get it over with.”

You had your hands on your thighs, and you were squeezing the fabric of your dress hard.

“But then…” She wrung her fingers. “Then you didn’t reply. And I knew I’d done exactly that. So I tried to go on with my life.” She scoffed. “It was fucking unbearable. I couldn’t focus at work. Any design I made had you in it. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how I might’ve hurt you, so I did the stupidest thing and instead of telling you how I felt I just asked if you wanted to hang out. Because I convinced myself that maybe it was all in my head and you didn’t even feel the same way I did.”

She drew in closer. “Look, I won’t lie to you. I can’t promise you I’ll be great for you. I’m not easy. But I do like you. A lot.”

You exhaled. Your eyes landed on your feet, then on her. Another tear trailed down your cheek. “Ellie…”

The look on her face broke your heart. She looked so vulnerable, like she was terrified of what you’d say next. So you just got up and walked over to her, placing your hands on her shoulders. She gazed up at you, keeping her hands to herself. You planted a small kiss on her lips. Then you drew back to look at her.

She was quick to wrap her hands around your waist, pulling you to her, kissing you hungrily. You were about to settle back into the couch when she hoisted you up, guiding your legs to fit around her waist. She stood up and kissed your neck as she carried you over to your room, laying you down gently on the bed.

Then your lips were meeting again, your limbs and torso moving in tune with hers. And there it was again, that sweet nectarine feeling coursing through you. She stopped kissing you just long enough to pull off your jacket while you pushed up her jumper, after which she went back in, ravenous for the feel of your mouth against hers.

Her hand went to your dress, tugging it up, then it was sliding up your thigh and you couldn’t help but let out a pleased groan at her touch. You felt the corners of her mouth move the slightest bit. Her fingers moved to pull at your underwear, dipping inside your folds. It was hard to keep in time with her then, as your body racked through with pleasure, you kept breaking the kiss to let out gasps and moans Ellie seemed desperate to swallow.

“El,” you whispered. She traveled from your cheeks to your jaw, planting pecks along the way, her nose pushing slightly against your skin.

“What is it?” she said, but when you didn’t say anything other than her nickname, she continued the thrusting motion of her fingers, deeper and deeper until she hit a spot which caused you to arch your back and whine. The orgasm built inside you and crashed down your legs, leaving them trembling. You inhaled and exhaled hard. Ellie withdrew her hand and brought her fingers to her lips, licking them. You hid your face, smiling.

She laughed and brought it back so you would look at her. You wrapped your legs around one of hers, so that your thigh was up against her warmth, making her grunt. When you began moving your body up and down, your thigh followed, and she hugged your arms, desperate to feel more of the pressure.

Your moans blended into each other. Ellie came first, and you came right after she started touching your neck and sucking the thin skin there.

Her hands went to your face, cupping it in her palms, her fingers brushing up and down your cheeks so her digits could feel the little parts which were still damp. Your own fingers studied the freckled bridge of her nose, the scar at her brow, the curve of her lips. Her eyes were red, and you didn’t know if it was from the weed or crying or both. Time passed differently. It didn’t matter how much of it you spent.

-

a/n - pls feel free to comment what you think!! I love receiving comments I might not reply to them all bc I don't want to be annoying but I promise I see them and I love them smm

@boobdrug @macaroni676 @appleofmyii @hemmo01 @elsmissingfingers @elliesapple @fatbootymuncher @d1psht @liasxeatt @metrolinha743 @nouvell-vague @salvatoreamoree @bforest

p.s. I love ur usernames...sorry if I missed anyone

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Three Rules

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: being in an abusive relationship, domestic violence, covering up bruises (nothing is ever explicit, just talked about), minor fluff at the end

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been assigned to you as a way to overcome his feelings and separate himself from the Winter Solider. You're his saving grace and maybe, he can be yours.

Squares Filled: "need a medic?" (2021) @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mirror above the steering wheel is so tiny but it’ll have to do since you don’t have your big mirror in your purse this time. You make sure your makeup is good enough to last the whole day, and more importantly, to keep what’s underneath hidden from everyone else. You don’t know what you’d do if people found out about your home life.

When you deem yourself okay, you grab your things and head straight to work. Your assistant, Carly, greets you with a friendly smile and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, boss!”

“Morning. Who do we have on the books today?”

“The only one is Bucky Barnes.”

“Great. Send him in as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure.”

You walk into your office and make sure everything you need for today’s session is in front of you. Bucky Barnes has only been seeing you for a couple of months so it’s still so new to either of you. You're a well-respected psychologist who had many clients, but you never thought you’d be seeing the former Winter Soldier.

You’ve heard the stories. You know what he’s done but he’s trying to atone for his mistakes. One of the important ways he’s going to do that is if you give him the chance to. He’s been respectful of you even though he’s closed off. Someone like him who experienced the torture he’s been through isn’t going to open up easily. It’s hard getting him to talk about himself but you’re hoping that if you start from before Hydra it will get him to open up to you a lot more.

His appointment is in a couple of minutes so you check yourself using your desk mirror to make sure everything still looks the same.

“Boss, Mr. Barnes is here,” Carly says through the phone intercom.

“Send him in.” The door opens and Bucky walks in with an uncertain look in his eyes. You give him a small yet friendly smile to ease his concerns. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. Please, have a seat.”

“Please, call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky.” He sits down on the couch across from your desk. “How was your week?” He shrugs in response. “Did you do anything special?”

“I spent time with Sam and his family.”

“How did that make you feel? Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” he sighs.

“Did you uphold your three rules?”

Rule #1: Don’t do anything illegal. Rule #2: Don’t hurt anyone. Rule #3: Introduce himself as James Barnes instead of Bucky, formerly the Winter Solider.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made since seeing me. Is there anything you’d like to talk about specifically that happened this week?”

“No.”

He can’t seem to look at you. He’s talking to you, that’s a plus, even though he’s only giving you one-syllable words.

“Bucky, if this is going to work, I need you to try here. I’m not asking you to write me a novel about your life. I’m asking you to give a little. Can you do that for me?” you ask in a gentle tone.

“Okay,” he sighs and looks into your eyes. “I’ll try.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky looks like he wants to cry. Anything about Steve makes him question everything about him. He left Bucky. He left everyone behind to start a life in another timeline. “This is a safe space. Everything you’re feeling is valid, Bucky. When you’re ready, I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

It takes him ten long minutes to find the courage to talk and when he does, he can’t look at you.

“What if Steve was wrong about me? I was under Hydra’s influence when we crossed paths again, and he did everything he could to save me. He even brought me to Wakanda to get that shit out of my head. What if it’s still there? What if they say those words again and I’m back to being the Winter Soldier? Sometimes I don’t think I’m worth saving.”

You want to cry for him. He is so badly damaged that it will take a long time if not the rest of his life to be okay again. He might have happy moments here and there, but those fears will always be there. You have to choose your words carefully.

“It’s hard to see the good in someone who has done bad, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Steve remembered his best friend and knew the kind of person he was. Steve remembered something in you that is still true to this day.”

“What?” he asks and looks up at you with hints of tears in his eyes.

“I see a man trying to do good, to atone for his mistakes, and I think that’s someone worth saving. Steve saw it, too.” A single tear escapes his eyes but he doesn’t wipe it away. “If you are who you think you are, you wouldn’t feel remorse for what they did to you. The fact that you do shows me that you’re more than what they put in your head. You’re trying to do good with the bad you’ve been given, and that’s not a bad person.”

You’ve made excellent progress with Bucky this session, and you think the next one is going to go by just as smoothly. He only gets an hour but you make the most of the rest of the hour.

“The same time next week?” you ask.

“I’ll see you then, Doc,” Bucky smiles and leaves your office.

With each passing session, you and Bucky form a stronger bond until he realizes he looks forward to being with you. You make his day a bit brighter but the last thing he is gonna do is tell you that. You’d never have romantic relations with a client but you can’t say the same once they no longer are your clients.

You show up to work one week dabbing makeup on your face while driving. You’re on the phone with your husband. He isn’t on speakerphone and your phone is resting in one of the cup holders, but you can still hear every word he is saying as clear as day. He is yelling that loudly at you. You forgot to do the dishes before you left for work and now he is telling you what a burden you are, how much he hates you, and that you’re useless…

…and those are the nice things.

“Baby, I was running late this morning. I’m sorry,” you sigh and pick up the phone.

“I will deal with you later,” he growls and hangs up the phone.

You’d cry but then you’d ruin your makeup, and you’re already at work. You push down your feelings about your abusive husband and walk into work. You gasp at how hot it is, and you look at your assistant who has her work jacket off.

“What is going on in here? Why is it so hot?”

“The air conditioning is broken but someone is coming to look at it later.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “How many today?”

“Three.”

“Send them through.”

You get through the first two clients with as few problems as possible but by the time Bucky comes in, you’re almost about to break. You're tired, your face is pulsing with pain, your makeup feels like cake at this point, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand sitting in the heat.

“Hi, Bucky. Please have a seat,” you greet. He sees the immediate shift in your behavior and you’ve only said six words to him. “I’d like to start this session by talking about last week. You said something about taking a trip with Sam, right? How did that go?”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Bucky, we’re here to talk about you, not me.”

Bucky has to let it go for right now but he can’t when you wipe your face to clear the sweat. You forget that you have makeup on otherwise you wouldn’t have wiped your face with your handkerchief. It’s not entirely present but Bucky knows a bruise when he sees one, and you have a dark one near your eye.

“Need a medic?”

“I’m fine. I fell.”

“I’ve fallen plenty of times. I’ve gotten hit enough times to know a bruise caused by a punch when I see one.”

“Bucky, please. Drop it. We’re not here to talk about me.”

Bucky notices you play with your wedding ring nervously whenever the spotlight is on you. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s been happening here. For your sake, he lets it go. The session is cut short due to Bucky needing to be somewhere, and you made it clear he is still getting charged the full hour whether he uses it or not. He was fine with it so you moved on with three other clients after him.

The air conditioning was fixed after the first client, so you redid your makeup in the bathroom to be more presentable. It’s late when you finish with your last client, and you curse at the time. Your husband is going to kill you if you’re late again. You gather your things and rush out of your office, but Carly stops you before you can get far.

“Listen, I’m running late, so can you--”

“The police called earlier. I told them you were with a client and they asked if you could call them back. They said it was urgent.”

“Oh, okay,” you stutter. She hands you her phone after redialing the last number called. “Hi, my name is Y/N. My assistant got a call earlier?” You hear the words they’re saying but your brain isn’t processing them. “Wait, I’m sorry, he’s what?”

“Your husband is dead, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“How? When? I just talked to him this morning.”

“My guess is that he’s been dead for maybe four hours. He died from a severe beating and blunt-force trauma to the head.”

All you hear them saying is that you’re free. You’re finally free. No more pain. You’re not sure who killed your husband because he didn’t have a lot of enemies. Despite how he treated you, he was very charming to everyone else. He put up this facade that made him look like a saint when really, he was the devil.

When you show up to work the next week, your hair is pinned up, you have light makeup on, a nice outfit, and your heart is light. You’ve never been happier now that your husband is out of the picture. He was a wealthy man, so you got all of his money to use how you see fit. He was so horrible to you so maybe his money will bring some happiness to people when you donate a chunk to different charities.

Bucky shows up right on time, and you give him a smile when he enters your room. You look down and notice some bruising and scabs on his knuckles, and if his metal hand could scar as easily as flesh, he’d have scars there, too.

“Have a seat, Bucky.”

“You look happier.”

You chuckle in amusement. You look Carly through the small glass window who is busy taking calls for you to listen to later. You look back at Bucky who raises his eyebrows in question.

“The following conversation didn’t happen.” He nods in understanding. “My husband is dead. Someone killed him.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long five minutes.

“Did he deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Did you break rule number two?”

“I might have,” he smiles, “but I had a really good reason.”

“What reason is that?” you ask and sit back.

“There’s this woman I know, and for the first time since I met her, she actually had a genuine smile on her face… and it is gorgeous. I guess her husband didn’t know what he had when he had her.”

You smile at Bucky.

“No, he didn’t.”

x

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[rispwr]

Still with you - JK - MDNI - PART ONE

pairings : ex!jk x ex!reader

genre : fluff, angst

context : after breaking up with your boyfriend for 14 years for cheating on you, choosing to still stay with him in his apartment wasn't quite the best idea. especially after seperating.

warnings/contents : smut, mentions of ppregnancy, cheating, rape, unprotected sex, alcoholism, degrading, and this jungkook should be a warning.

songs : house of balloons, swim, into it, goodluck, babe, so high, bloodline

this fic only has maybe 2 or 3 chapters

I wake up on the couch, feeling the ache in my back from sleeping in the same uncomfortable position all night.

 It takes a moment for everything to come rushing back—the familiar smell of his apartment, the soft hum of the refrigerator, and the memory of why I'm here in the first place.

I sit up slowly, wincing as I push the blanket off me. My clothes from yesterday are wrinkled, sticking to my skin in all the wrong places. I hate that I’m still here, stuck in this stupid situation, relying on him of all people. I run a hand through my tangled hair and look around, trying to remind myself that this is temporary. Just a month. I can survive a month.

The bedroom door creaks open, and I stiffen. Of course, he’s awake. Jungkook steps out, looking annoyingly casual in his sweatpants and t-shirt, his hair all messy like he just rolled out of bed. He sees me and flashes that stupid smile, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat. Now, it just makes me want to throw something.

"Morning," he says, his voice soft.

I don’t respond, refusing to meet his eyes as I start folding the blanket. Each movement is sharp, almost aggressive. I focus on the fabric in my hands, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling. Why does he have to act like everything’s fine? Like he didn’t just cheat on me?

Jungkook walks past me to the kitchen, humming some tune under his breath. I hear the coffee maker sputter to life, and the smell of brewing coffee fills the room. It’s almost enough to calm me down. Almost.

"if you're still not over about that babe-" before he could utter a word, i cut him off " don't call me babe."

I grit my teeth and ignore him, the anger simmering just below the surface. The blanket finally folded, I toss it onto the couch with a little too much force and cross my arms, glaring at his back. He’s acting like nothing’s wrong, like he didn’t break my heart just a few weeks ago.

"I wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch if I didn’t have to be here in the first place," I mutter under my breath, knowing he’ll hear.

Jungkook pauses, glancing back at me. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms like this is just another one of our casual conversations. Like we’re still friends or something.

"You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need," he says, his tone irritatingly calm. "I don’t mind."

That’s not the point, Jungkook. I wouldn’t need to stay here if you hadn’t fucked up and cheat on me like i was nothing.

I stop myself before I go down that road again. We’ve been over this too many times, and it never ends well. I bite my lip, turning away from him and grabbing my phone from the coffee table. I need to get out of here. Anywhere but here.

"I’ll be out of your hair soon enough," I say, more to myself than to him.

I can feel his eyes on me, that gentle concern that used to make me feel safe but now just makes me feel...trapped. I don’t look back at him as I head to the bathroom, needing a moment alone to pull myself together.

i went to the bathroom

I close the bathroom door behind me, leaning against it as I let out a shaky breath. 

My heart’s still pounding, adrenaline making my hands tremble slightly. It’s always like this.

 being around Jungkook is like walking on a tightrope, and I’m constantly teetering on the edge. I can’t even look at him without feeling that mix of anger and something else I don’t want to name.

I turn to the mirror, avoiding my own reflection for a moment as I focus on the running water, splashing some on my face. The coolness helps, grounding me a little.

 My fingers shake as I comb through my hair, trying to smooth out the mess that sleeping on the couch always leaves behind. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone, but I can’t stand looking as disheveled as I feel inside.

Why does he have to be so calm?

 So unaffected by everything?

 It’s like nothing phases him, like he doesn’t care that I’m practically bursting with everything I haven’t said.

 I clench my teeth, rubbing at the dark circles under my eyes. I haven’t been sleeping well. how could I, in this situation?

I need to get out of here.

 I can’t stand being in this apartment any longer, can’t handle the way it makes me feel trapped. I don’t even know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here.

 I grab my toothbrush, quickly brushing my teeth as if it’ll help me escape faster, then run a hand through my hair again, tying it up in a loose ponytail. It’s the best I can do with the time and patience I have.

The moment I step out of the bathroom, I feel the weight of the apartment pressing down on me again. Jungkook’s still in the kitchen, probably drinking his coffee without a care in the world.

 I grab my bag from the couch, trying to be quiet about it, but the strap catches on the blanket, making me fumble. My breath catches as I hear him shift in the kitchen, like he’s going to say something, but I’m out the door before he gets the chance.

The cool air hits my skin as I walk into the coffee shop, offering a welcome escape from the heat outside. I’ve been coming here a lot lately. maybe too much. but it’s one of the few places where I can just...breathe. 

No drama

no tension

no jeon jungkook

just the comforting smell of coffee and a quiet corner to lose myself in.

As I approach the counter, I notice a new barista. He’s got dark hair that falls over his eyes, giving him a kind of laid-back vibe that instantly catches my attention.

 There’s something about him that seems...different. He’s not just going through the motions like most baristas.

 He’s calm, almost serene

as if he’s moving at his own pace, completely unaffected by the rush of the city outside.

I find myself lingering a little longer than usual, trying to read the chalkboard menu even though I already know what I’m going to order. When I finally step up to the counter, he looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a gentle curiosity.

“Hey, what can I get you?” His voice is smooth, a little deeper, and I can’t help but notice the way his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile.

“Just a latte, please,” I reply. There’s a warmth in his gaze that I can’t quite place, something that makes me feel like he actually cares about what I’m going to order. 

It’s silly, but it’s nice.

He nods, turning to start on my drink, and I watch as he moves with an effortless grace, like he’s done this a million times but still finds some sort of joy in it. 

There’s a quiet confidence about him that’s both intriguing and comforting.

As he works, I find myself leaning against the counter, feeling more at relax than I have in days. “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago,” he replies without looking up, focused on the precise art of frothing the milk. “Name’s Yoongi.”

“Y/N,” I say, offering a small smile, even though he can’t see it. “I come here a lot, so...guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

He glances up at that, his eyes meeting mine again, and this time, there’s a flicker of something. more of a spark of interest that makes my heart skip a beat.

 “I’ll look forward to it.”

My smile widens a little, and I duck my head, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. There’s something about him that’s just...easy. Natural. Like we’re already friends, even though we’ve barely exchanged a few words.

He finishes my latte and slides the cup across the counter with a soft “Here you go.”

 I take it, our fingers interact for the briefest moment, and I swear I feel a tiny jolt of electricity at the contact.

Maybe it’s just the caffeine deprivation, but I can’t shake the feeling that this guy—Yoongi—might be exactly what I need right now.

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a sip. It’s perfect, just the right amount of foam, the espresso rich and smooth. I glance back at him, and he’s watching me with a quiet smile, like he’s pleased that I like it.

“See you around, Y/N,” he says as I turn to leave, his voice lingering in the air even after I’ve stepped away from the counter.

I find my usual spot by the window, sinking into the plush chair with a contented sigh. 

There’s something about that new barista that makes me want to come back here, even more than I already do.

 It’s not just the coffee, although that’s definitely a bonus.

 It’s him. 

the way he made me feel like I wasn’t just another customer, like maybe I was someone worth getting to know.

As I sip my latte, I catch myself smiling, a real, genuine smile that I haven’t felt in a while.

 Maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe, in this little coffee shop with its warm light and soft music, I’ve found something, or someone...worth sticking around for.

[ratboyvince]

The Magnus Protocol - Glitch theory

In light of the current theory/assumption that in The Magnus Protocol, the audio glitches when the characters lie, I’ve been re listening!! And I’m going to be using this post and others to explore what this means for our beloved characters

The glitches aren’t on the transcript, sometimes there will be a direction like (uncertain) or (unconvincing), but thats the best i can do you for, otherwise you will have to take my word

First though, quick clarifications: what exactly is a lie in this context? - this is fairly obvious but i am including it for the avoidance of any doubt what i have gathered is that, in this theory we are assuming a lie is a character saying something they KNOW is not true in attempt to wilfully deceive someone

It is NOT:

A joke, or sarcasm

Believing something but being wrong

Finally, a lot of the lies i have so far are ones that are known to known to be untrue, what i will do is have a list of the blatant lies SO FAR to make my point, to work as support for the theory on this post then leave out any following ones to avoid making it excessively long.

The rest of them will be under the cut and more on a thread, sorted by episode. If i miss any, feel free to say!!

BLATANT LIES (theory support)

1.

Teddy: Colin was just saying how much of a BLAST he’s having (GLITCH) isn’t that right?

Lena: oh really.

Colin: Aye, sure (GLITCH)

Teddy: And how he’d love to take the after party to the Pub (GLITCH)

2.

Gwen: Sam? You okay?

Sam: um. Yeah. (GLITCH)

3.

Sam: cinnamon swirl. Please. (GLITCH)

4.

Gwen: Wait. Did you get me a coffee?

Sam: yeah. (GLITCH)

5.

Celia: Sorry, sorry, there was an emergency at home (GLITCH)

EPISODES 1-11 (where applicable) UNDER THE CUT

Episode 1

Teddy: Nahh, we’ll stay in touch, right?

Alice: Course…(GLITCH)

Alice either did not intend to keep in touch with Teddy, or genuinely just does not believe they will.

* saying she’ll miss him was NOT a lie, so it’s probably the latter

Episode 3

Sam: right, right i get it. Consider me *scared straight* (GLITCH)

He wasn’t taking Alice seriously, underestimating how serious it actually was (maybe even as light payback for her not taking him seriously)

Episode 5

Lena: I am certain that if he finds his current assignment unmanageable he can request assistance (GLITCH) or resign, of course…

She knows what the deal is with Central IT (whatever “the deal” may be), and just refuses to help. Maybe even sets up a little hostility between Lena and Colin?

Episode 7

Alice: listen, if you need to step out for some air-

Celia: no, I’m fine, really (GLITCH)

Celia was infact, not fine, probably because she recognised Chester’s voice as Jon “The Archivist” Sims himself and she’s freaked out

Episode 8

Gertrude: well I’m…sorry, but I don’t think gerry can help you. (GLITCH)

—

Gerry: -And then i left

Sam: and that’s all?

Gerry: Yeah I’m afraid so! (GLITCH)

Gertrude and Gerry know more than they’re letting on, and intentionally not sharing.

*Gerry not remembering most of it being true, means that while he’s probably leaving something out, there’s more he genuinely is lost on

Sam: I…may have given you a quick google

Celia: then…yeah. I’m doing a favour for Georgie. (GLITCH)

She Is Not Doing A Favour For Georgie - the research (teleportation, time travel, different universes) is more personal!

Episode 11

Sam: you keep glancing at the door

Alice: ah. It’s nothing (GLITCH)

—

Alice: it’ll be nothing! I’m just jumpy (GLITCH)

Alice is dismissing her anxiety following the trip to the institute.

Alice: “What have I told you about thinking?“

Sam: “Don’t.”

Alice: “That’s right.” (GLITCH)

Probably meaning that Alice is starting to doubt her own ideas, but is just pushing that uncertainty away because that’s what she does and she’s still more comfortable in ignorance, even if she doesn’t think it’s exactly RIGHT to ignore.

[alicerosejensen]

Together forever pt.3

Warning: Yandere!leon; kidnapping, forced cohabitation, stalkering, fem/reader, age difference, pet names.

A/N: I wrote this earlier, but I will repeat it again so that there are no complaints: I do not approve of this in real life. What is written here is simply fiction, if you have any psychological trauma associated with this or do not like such content then DO NOT READ!

Part 1

Part 2

He really didn’t want to resort to force, but you simply left him no choice...

Flashback to weeks earlier, when you weren't yet under his protection, Leon was analyzing everything about his sweet angel. Well, ultimately, carrying your once again unconscious body back to bed, of course, the last thing he wanted was for you to get injured, but you never know what stupid thoughts could come to your mind after waking up again, so putting you into bed, he pulled out the handcuffs and chained your hand to the headboard of the bed. Not very comfortable but you can sleep.

Don't get him wrong, he doesn't want to keep you on a leash like a dog at all, but Leon has noticed for a long time that you are in constant danger. Back in that dusty archive, when you reached for another folder, the laces on your worn sneakers were untied. Darling, you don't know how to tie your shoelaces at all! He immediately thought that you could have fallen and broken your neck or any other bone, you could even have died by your own negligence! It's good that Agent Kennedy was around, right?

Looking at how you sleep and your eyelids twitch in your sleep, Leon threw the blanket back over you. He knows that your sleep is restless, in fact, he almost knows about nightmares, but you didn't need to be afraid anymore. Nevertheless, Leon was well aware that a sudden change of situation and getting used to the new rules that he created to protect you would be stressful for some time. However, it was still better than wandering through dark unsafe alleys alone on the way home, drinking drinks in cheap bars with your friends who didn't even bother to call you a taxi. Leon doesn't know who to thank for the fact that you're still alive and haven't been raped by some asshole who would break your whole life. Despite the fact that the DSO pays its people well, this rather applies to agents and various informants who risk their lives, but small archivists like you do not interest them at all. Therefore, his angel could not afford a nice apartment in a decent neighborhood without bastards and drug dealers who would gladly get you hooked on some trash. The door of your apartment was indecently easy to open Leon would have done it without a lock pick without any problems, but he didn't want to scare you, however…

It is now his house completely at your disposal. The refrigerator is filled with high-quality products and not cheap instant noodles whose packages were lying in your trash. Money was really tight, wasn't it? A mug with a touch of tea or coffee that for some reason you didn't want to wash well, an unmade bed with your smell that he liked to inhale so much. The moment he plopped down on your bed, the desire to hold you in his arms just took root in him.

He wanted your scent to sink deep into him, to penetrate into every cell of his body. He just needed to possess you. That's why Leon couldn't wait, especially since you never let him become anything closer than just a colleague with whom you chatted during lunch. At some point, knowing where you live, he even came up with the idea that you were really offended, but there was nothing about it from your correspondence or medical records. Like you just liked being alone.

He was watching you to keep you safe. He walked you home ready to become a savior at any moment, it's not the first time he's saved a lady in trouble, despite the fact that you weren't actually that lady. Not according to Leon. Sometimes he came to your apartment and leafed through your books that he didn't like, but he didn't judge. He was taught to be quiet and inconspicuous, so it was extremely difficult to understand about someone else's presence. The only thing that really started to bother you is that things sometimes rearrange themselves and the old traces of coffee on your favorite mug magically disappeared. Robberies were not uncommon in this troubled area, but the only valuable things in your apartment were a laptop and a game console. Actually, it was important for Leon to know about all your preferences!

Now it was all in the past. You're safe here with him, away from all the shit that can hurt you. And in fact, you no longer need to worry about bills and how to live until the next paycheck. Leon doesn't consider himself a psycho when he lies down next to you, inhaling the scent of your body, pulling you to him, kissing your temple. After all, if you want, he will become the hero of those stupid books for you.

"I will definitely take care of you," he whispers, making you shudder in your sleep after hearing this insinuating voice that leaves no chance of salvation.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Your resistance is really annoying. You are still sitting handcuffed to the bed and there are already bloody marks on your wrist from the skin erased into blood after a steady twitching of your hand.

"I just need to dress you up," Leon says in a calm voice, while his patience still allows him to hold in his hands cute clothes for his angel.

Skirt, tights, and a warm sweater. Of course it's warm at home, but he wants to be sure that you have everything you need. That's just you kicking, yelling at him and crying incessantly ignoring the pain in your wrist.

"Baby, don't make me use force. Enough of this moaning!"

"Let me go!" you shout on the verge of pulling the hated handcuffs even without looking at him. Over the past two days, hysteria has been covering you with your head constantly not allowing you to think clearly.

Leon sighs. In any case, he doesn't want to stuff you with drugs anymore, and then what he was trained as an agent comes into play. He needs to break the will of the enemy or rather his beloved. He didn't want to take emergency measures, but you just forced him. He comes up to you squatting down and takes your face by the chin, forcing you to look into his cold eyes. The prepared clothes fly to a chair that is too far from the bed to reach it, but it doesn't matter anymore.

"To be honest, I didn't think that you would calmly react to the move," you were outraged when you heard his words

"Moving in with you?!" you cry out. Tears are spurting from eyes. "Since when is kidnapping suddenly called moving?! I'm not a stray animal for you to just pick me up and stab me in the neck with various rubbish!"

"I could have been slower, but you just left me no choice. Seriously, I could no longer watch you live in that anthill and spend 10 hours in a dusty room earning yourself asthma. Although considering your problems with shoelaces, I would bet that you would have killed yourself earlier by falling off a stepladder or would have been crushed by one of those huge boxes with folders."

“what?.." a guess flashes through your head.

Of course, he could probably somehow get a dossier on you and find out the address of your residence, but… rearranged things, a mug… Did he break into your apartment? You've heard that Leon was one of the best. Patrick even once mentioned that the president himself constantly praised Leon and his services to the country could not be called insignificant. There are many successfully completed missions behind him, but you have never really cared about it. At least until you yourself become one of these successful missions.

"Your poor stomach won't thank you for stuffing it with these disgusting noodles and chocolate. You need to eat right, honey," his words make you angry "You need a proper daily routine, good sleep, fresh air and balanced nutrition. I can provide you with all this, but you only need to be my good girl."

Leon's hands grab you by the face and his forehead presses against yours when he closes his eyes, stroking your cheeks wet with tears with his thumb, then briefly and gently kissing your lips, which is why you try to turn away from him.

"Heal your head!" another shout and insult. "As an agent, you're probably supposed to have some fancy psychiatrist or psychologist!"

"It's true," he easily agrees, biting his lip and getting back on his feet. It still didn't work out in a good way to solve the issue "One way or another, you will obey me. I just wanted us to come to this without unnecessary conflict and tantrums, but if you like it more, then fine. Sit alone for a couple of days without food and water. And I'll come back later and you'll tell me about your decision."

"Wait!" You called out to him almost at the door when he had already turned the handle. Leon turned in anticipation of your words and probably there was still a glimmer of hope in him that you would accept his love right now without radical decisions. "You can't keep me here! My family and at work will be looking for me. No one will believe that I just disappeared!"

Leon only grinned briefly.

"Oh, sweetheart. People disappear every day and believe me, many don't care about them, and as for your family, they could take better care of you, but if they didn't, then this care falls on my shoulders"

The hope that it was just a way of intimidation for further submission glowed deep in your chest. No matter how much the soul did not want it, the brain still suggested that Leon was never the one for whom he could be mistaken. The sound of his footsteps quickly subsided and occasionally you could catch some rustling and knocking on the ground floor. Didn't want to know what Kennedy was doing there, but fear kept throwing up ideas about some sadistic torture room and the fact that he wanted you to forcibly become his girlfriend made you suspect of possible sexual abuse after which it would be impossible to become the same.

And yet the wounded deer jumps higher, fights more desperately. You tried to somehow take off your handcuffs, and to be honest with yourself, your hand was really hurting mercilessly that you wanted to howl. It will be quite difficult without an analgesic. The search for some kind of paper clip, an accidentally lying nail under the bed or something with which you could unlock the lock was not successful. However, you didn't have the hacking skill either, and the handcuffs definitely weren't from some sex shop. Steel bites into the skin until it bleeds, and it would be worth listening to Leon though in this: no need to make sudden movements. Moreover, there are already enough bloodstains on the bed linen, but you were so absorbed in despair that the brain simply ignored part of the pain, but very soon it will be very hard.

Add to that the fact that Leon decided to starve you.

At first, everything was even tolerable. The stomach began to cramp from hunger only in the evening add to this the fact that you are being kept locked up handcuffed to the bed makes your body exhausted. You cried for several hours, but Leon's mercy did not descend to you. It really wasn't a prank and he kidnapped you for his own purposes, which you didn't want to know anything about.

"Leon?.." is quieter than you wanted, you called him again.

It all seemed like a nightmare. Time dragged on so slowly that it was unbearable and scary from the unknown. You were hoping that Leon had made a mistake somewhere and the police would find you very soon, the main thing at this moment is to stay alive and not dead because you definitely won't be able to win by force against a government agent who has undergone professional training and completed many successful missions. When your nerves calmed down a little, you started thinking about how to deceive him. It may not be possible to escape, but send an SMS or make a call to the rescue service. You've heard these stories when a girl called under some pretext and was rescued, but will Leon trust you with the phone?

Later you heard footsteps. Probably Leon was listening to the sounds that you could make, but you were silent, looking at the door with the eyes of a frightened doe. However, nothing happened.

He's probably gone.

The throat was dry. You tightly squeezed your eyes shut trying to calm your breathing and come up with a plan of action. If hunger helped at first, then as time went on, the thought of food and water constantly stirred your thoughts.

there was one maddening silence around. Your wrist began to itch and throb painfully, the blood clotted, but at the slightest movement it began to bleed. It got dark outside again and it started to get cold. You carefully crawled under the blanket, covering your frozen feet with it, trying not to think about the desired water, especially since you had of blood loss. How long can you live without water? 3 days? 4 maybe 5 days?

"Please?" you whispered softly, starting to cry again and giving in to panic. "Leon?"

You needed painkillers. It was a bad idea to actively pull with your hand, but people often do what is not necessary when they panic and you had enough reasons to worry, but in the end there was no point in protesting. Not when you are on someone else's territory under the power of a physically strong person. And yet, most of you wanted to scream and scream, beat him and fight, and not invent plans to escape and naively rely on his mercy, which probably does not exist.

"Leon!" you called again louder in a plaintive voice, licking your dry lips. "Please… at least give me some water."

Drugs and stress perfectly lead to dehydration. Especially the first one considering that you were sick earlier. But Leon was still deaf to the pleas, it was generally quiet downstairs. Maybe he was already asleep?

By nightfall, the condition only worsened. You wrist was swollen and even the slightest movement caused hellish pain, throat was dry and your stomach hurt wildly that it began to seem that he began to digest himself. Maybe agents can safely endure such trials with dignity, but again, you have never been interested in this. You didn't even have the strength to cry.

Actually, it didn't take him two days because his heart was just bursting with pity for you.

Leon looked at you with such a puppy-dog look when you were sitting on the bed with your head bowed and trembling. Well, one day would be enough for his princess, and he sincerely hoped that this punishment would be more than enough.

Click.

You shuddered from another flash of pain and when you opened your eyes, you shuddered with fright when you came face to face with him again.

However, the handcuffs were removed.

"poor girl, I really didn't want anything," he threw the handcuffs on the bedside table, "But sometimes we have to do things that we don't like, right? if you hadn't screamed, things wouldn't be so bad right now and your arm wouldn't be swollen."

He stretched out his arms to lift you up, but noticed another resistance when your tired body moved away from him, which made Leon look at you with a threatening look again.

"Do you want to sit like this for another day?"

You nodded your head negatively and out of fear allowed him to lift you up to lower you to the first floor.

"Give me some water, please…" by God, this was the only thought in head

"Be patient angel" Leon's lips touched your temple when he put you on the sofa.

The glass of water handed to you turned out to be so desirable that it seemed you were a traveler lost in the desert who found an oasis. And yet Leon didn't limit you to one glass, allowing you to drink as much as you need, BUT in small sips. Given the thirst, you ignored his words and eventually choked, starting to cough while covering your face with your hand. Of course he didn't like it.

"Sure it's my fault, but you have to listen to me!" An irritated male voice made you shrink and look at him with those cute eyes that Leon loves and hates so much because you are afraid of him.

He put the first aid kit next to the table and took your wrist carefully, first examining the deep abrasion. You screamed loudly when Leon treated her with a disinfectant solution and then wrapped her in a bandage. having previously smeared some ointment, but it did not hurt less from this. And then he kissed you on the forehead like a brave child for whom it was a feat to endure such a thing.

"What do you want from me anyway?" you asked, afraid of the answer anyway, because your presence here did not bode well. "I didn't do anything wrong to you"

"I didn't say you did anything to me. I just want to take care and keep the one I love safe. In this case, it's you."

"Me?"

"Exactly," he smiled, sitting closer, "I wanted everything to be like everyone else, but you didn't give me a chance. Good for Patrick, too. And yet, to see how you walk everywhere where there is a potential danger… I just couldn't, Princess. I just couldn't take it anymore. But now I promise that I will take care of you and I know you better than you know yourself! Just leave all the tantrums of the fight. No more bumps or bites. I'm serious!"

Yes, there was a good mark of your teeth on his hand.

Although you didn't smile and were actually horrified by the human diversity, one thing was clear for sure even through fear - he wasn't going to kill you or…rape. The latter is not accurate, but the soul hoped for it.

"Just let's do it in order." You reluctantly nodded knowing that you have no choice "First we will put you in order, I will make you a bath and you wash, then you will eat and we will have a good rest and in the morning I will tell you about the rules with a fresh head. I will give you everything you want: books, clothes, cosmetics, whatever you want, but in return, no resistance, okay?!" Leon's hand stroked your tangled hair and at the same time pulled you closer to him against your will, but even despite a little resistance, he pressed you to his chest. "I won't be in a hurry. We will go slowly, there is no need to be afraid for me, the main thing is your safety, and there will be time for the rest"

And hear the joyful beating of his heart, you hoped only that you would have enough time to find help or escape, but for now… you may have to be not an obedient but a cunning girl, otherwise the consequences can be fatal.

For now, you need to wait for the moment and find its weaknesses.

[l3viat8an]

Nsfw content MDNI

Ofc me being me, I can’t work on the idea I want to but I can write a random idea that popped into my head!- anyways some Lucifer content because why not ;) CW: Me just typing words and hoping they make sense tbh- Pillow humping, Lucifer really, misses you and he’s a little jealous~

This is stupid.

You’ve only been gone 2 days, 2 measly days! He’s been on longer trips away from you and never felt this….needy.

Lucifer’s thinks it’s pathetic the way he’s feeling, but he hugs your pillow tighter, burying his nose a little deeper and breathing in your scent.

What’s worse is the reason why he’s missing you and wishes he could touch you.

You sent him a photo this morning, nothing risky or even suggested! Just a quick mirror selfie in the bathroom at the hotel, where you and Satan were staying.

Oh yea, Satan was with you! Diavolo had insisted the two of you go on a short trip to the human world and acquire new rare books for the RAD library. Lucifer had objected saying he could accompany you instead, but Diavolo shot him down. Saying it was more fitting for Satan to go and how Lucifer’s work plate didn’t need another thing added. You had frowned a little, but ultimately agreed with Diavolo. If you and Satan could do the job and not make more work for Lucifer that had to be the better option! Right?-

But back to the photo!- It was you, bleary-eyed and messy bed head, smiling into the mirror, you sent him the pic followed by a quick ‘Good morning, Luci <3’ text. It made his heart melt and cheeks flush a bit. Lucifer always loved how you looked first thing in the morning, so cute and still half asleep until you’ve had coffee and breakfast.

But that wasn’t what had set Lucifer off. What had really got to Lucifer was Satan, standing behind you in the bathroom doorway his hair still messy and holding a cup of coffee out to you.

Lucifer knew it was stupid but the thought ‘It’s not fair.’ Won’t leave his mind. It’s not, after all. Satan is with you in the human world, apparently sharing a hotel room, getting to see that soft look on your face first thing in the morning and Lucifer is down here in literal hell hugging a pillow wishing it was you.

What’s even worse then all of that is how thoughts of you, in his bed with him won’t leave his mind.

You should be here, he should have his arms wrapped around you and be able to touch and kiss you, just because he feels like it.

But you’re not and he can’t. It’s so frustrating, all these thoughts mixed with the unusual feeling of jealousy fill his mind, he wants to clam you, take you, mark you.

And he can’t do any of it because you’re not there……but your pillow is….and maybe….

Lucifer sits up in bed, still holding your pillow, “No.” he says aloud as if that’ll clear the thoughts from his mind.

He’s not some hopeless virgin, he’s the avatar of pride! and he’s not about to fuck a pillow because he’s lonely……is he?

He sets the pillow in his lap looking down at it, as if the pillow did something wrong.

As he looks at the pillow memories of your face, head on it, eyes teary and cheeks flushed red as he fucks you float through his mind or when he has you on your stomach, biting the pillow to muffle your moans. “Fuck.” Lucifer breaths memories of your nights together filling his mind.

In the end his body decides for him. Grabbing the pillow, Lucifer stands up, setting the pillow in roughly the same position your ass would be if he bent you over his bed. Sliding his pants and boxers down, enough to free his hard cock and seeing the pre-cum beading at the tip and Lucifer mumbles “Pathetic.” He’s better then this……but you’re his weakness… experimentally, he holds your pillow still and ruts against it.

The material is a soft enough, Lucifer ruts his hips a few more times, letting out soft moans. If he keeps his eyes closed he can imagine it’s you, just like that time you teased him with red silk lingerie~

Ahhh~ more thoughts of you, naked and underneath him, begging for more, for whatever pleasure he’d give you. Lucifer opens his eyes hoping to see your face and is met with reality. He’s still alone, it’s just your pillow, just your scent in the room with him.

His hips speed up and a sound that can only be described as a whine of your name leaves his lips followed by, “Stupid and not fair……” he pulls away from the pillow and pumps his cock in hand, rubbing his thumb over the tip and groaning. It’s still pleasure and feels good but it’s not as good as you!

He grips the pillow again, rutting into it much faster then before, properly chasing his high now, Lucifer closes his eyes picturing you, just you. “Miss you, miss you so much.” Lucifer pants as he cums all over you pillow.

He stands there for a moment, coming down from his temporary high and hears his DDD chime. Sighing Lucifer reaches for his phone it’s a texts from you ‘Miss you. Goodnight 😘’ a small smile on his lips Lucifer texts back ‘Miss you too, goodnight, Darling and sweet dreams.’

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What is your hidden talent?

Hey, everyone! It would be super helpful if yall donated to my CashApp. I want to do this kind of work full-time. I have been told by people I read for that I am meant to do tarot reading. I am inclined to believe them because fr it has been so fun for me to see how much it helps yall. Way more fun than any retail/food industry job I've had. I feel like I am actually doing something substantial with my time. If yall want me to be able to continue to do this daily it would be so awesome if yall donated. Thank you guys in advance!

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The decks I am using today are The Tarot of the Divine, Believe in You Own Magic Oracle and The Healing Waters Oracle. Take everything that resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences.

___________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Leo, Virgo, Scorpio

Song: I Set Fire To The Rain by Adele

Vibes: Teal, green, yellow/gold, shear white cloth, smelling smoke, burning house, swimming, mixed drinks, hot chocolate, braided hair, locked doors, house plants, deep skin tone, 888, shells, feathers, crayons, colored hair, ares

Cards: 2 of Wands, 9 of Cups, 5 of Wands, Mural, Gold, Cleansing, Into the Unknown

Welcome in, pile 1! You have two hidden talents. One that you use rather regularly but unknowingly and the other you have yet to unlock. The energy I am getting from the cards makes me think the two talents are intertwined. ALSO Trigger Warning for abuse in this reading. It is VERY HEAVY. Do not read if you do not think you are ready.

The first hidden talent is starting new from the ground up. I know to you it might not sound that interesting. You have no idea how hard it can be to start new things for others. Starting from the ground up is scary and intimidating. Organizing the chaos in your mind and project that chaos clearly into reality. I see you are probably an artist of some kind. You might paint, make clay sculptures, or hand-make intricate jewelry of some kind. I see you learned to hone this ability because of a karmic relationship. They made you feel adored and cherished until you were in their grasp. When you were trapped with them, they turned on you. It's giving love bombing. This person literally blew up on you over the smallest things. I see a shattered tea/coffee cup. You stayed with them for a long time even though you knew what they were doing was wrong. You had to completely shred the life you had with them. You had to start your life from scratch. Which is why you are so used to the idea of starting with nothing and building up. The pain that you felt from that past connection still hurts you to this day. You probably have PTSD from the situation you were in. I am so sorry you had to go through all that. You didn't deserve to be treated like that.

The second hidden talent is transmutation. I see that the reason you haven't unlocked it yet is because you fear change. What happened to you in that shitty relationship makes it way easier for you to start over than to change the situation. You are scared to see things to the end. I see that this fear reveals itself in your artwork. You probably have many unfinished projects because you view yourself as incapable of seeing them through. Which by the way isn't true you are so capable of anything you want to do. Heal the hurt part of you that thinks you are incapable. Your ex was the one who instilled that in you. Don't let that motherfucker get you down. Especially if they aren't in your life anymore. Don't let them have that power over you, love. You deserve to feel good. Face your fear of them being right. You and I both know they aren't. When you do unlock this ability you will be able to transmute all the pain that asshole put you through into beautiful art. You will be able to finish all of those unfinished projects. You will be able to find true love within yourself. You will find that you were never broken like that bitch said you were. You were always lovely, sweet, and accommodating. You were always creating love everywhere you went.

_______

PILE TWO

Astrology: Sagittarius, Gemini, Pisces

Song: I Love Rock n Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

Vibes: Navy Blue, white, peach, deer, horses, libraries, books, coffee, hot springs, scones, pillow forts, maxi-skirts, cowboys, mermaids, 333, wine, fine dining, tall trees, athena, artemis

Cards: The Hermit, 3 of Wands, Knight of Swords, Nostalgia, Stars, Water Codes, The Healing Lagoon

Hello, pile 2! You have one secret power but trust me it's a good one. You have the ability to pull information out of thin air. You are crazy smart. People might not think it when they look at you because you try not to flaunt it too wildly. You prefer to stay under the radar when it comes to intellect. This makes people underestimate you. I feel that some of yall reading like this for various reasons but others really fucking hate it. You have some insecurity around this skill. That's why you don't think it is a good skill tbh. You think a lot on the go even while in conversation which makes people see you as kind of ditzy. Even so, you absolutely obliterate at trivia night. Your friends come to you first when they need obscure information. You might have been a really lonely kid and spent a lot of your time reading away the time. For a big chunk of your childhood you found your companionship in novels. You may have been bullied for this. Don't let those people's words get you down. Honestly, they were just jealous of your intelligence. The friends you have now love to hear you infodump about your favorite books. They love to hear everything you know about sea creatures and astrology/astronomy. They ask questions not to mock you but because they genuinely are interested in what you have to say. You are magnificent. Your mind is unparalleled. How people perceive you has nothing to do with what is actually happening in your mind. It is just their projections of themselves onto you. Ignore them lmao. <3

________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Cancer, Taurus, Libra

Song: Stay by Zedd

Vibes: All shades of blue, creeks, hanging flowers, 9999, faires, watermelon, paint-brush, rabbits, bird chips, car horn, pearls, lily pads, walking in the rain, lanterns, puppies, beaches, zues

Cards: Queen of Cups, Page of Cups, Ace of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, Raindrops, Stagnant Waters, Light House

My dear pile 3, welcome to your reading. You have a hidden ability that I feel is only hidden from you. Everyone else seems to know this about you. You have the power of hospitality and refuge. You are a safe place for everyone you know to come to if they need it. You are the type of person to tell everyone you know if they need a place to stay for any reason, all they gotta do is ask. You have a motherly energy about you, even if you aren't a woman. You always have emergency snacks for occasions like that. You host parties and everyone always leaves feeling 10 times better than when they arrived. You are the friend that lends a hand when needed. You the kind of person to have a shoulder ready for anyone to lean on, even if you don't know them well. The most beautiful thing about this is that these actions are never self-sacrificing. You have an abundance of all that you need so you can be generous constantly to those in need. I see you resting when necessary and listening to your body. I see you volunteering in your community. I think recently you helped clean up a beach or something. Maybe you organized it? Your energy is so soothing. You are just amazing, my friend. Absolutely the softest heart on earth. I also see you might foster animals! You take in rescue animals and nurse them back to health until they can find a forever home. ;n; You are the definition of an earth angel. Please see how amazing you are and how big your heart is. I wanna be your friend so bad from hearing all of this. Never stop being this beautiful of a soul, my dear. You are perfect.

_________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Aries, Capricorn, Aquarius

Song: Black Girl Magic by Londrelle

Vibes: Cyan, yellow, rusty red, iridescent, sake, 4c hair, magic, spell casting, curse breaking, singing, tea, pottery, steam-train, festivals, celebration, 963, small forests, mercury/hermes, lambs, Oshun

Cards: The Star, Ace of Cups, 2 of Cups, 6 of Swords, 7 of Wands, Tower, Spaceship, Thank You

PILE 4, WOW. Welcome. Your energy is just sooo woah. You are so indescribable. All that you have been through. Everything you have seen. All I can say is, wow. Your secret power is balance. It is a well-earned hidden ability. You have been through so much to gain the skills that I see in this reading. You have traveled so far. When I first looked at the reading I could not pin down exactly what skill you had because you are just so good at EVERYTHING. I legitimately out loud said, "Everything??? Everything." You know how to take care of yourself. You are an excellent lover. If you are a parent you are good at that too. You are chasing your dreams. I see you performing as a singer or a musician and your talent stuns everyone in the room. You are the best manifester in a 20 miles radius. You are a witch for sure. You have worked so hard on breaking karmic familial curses and you succeeded. You succeeded far past your soul's initial expectations. You are everything, my love. Like literally everything. Then it hit me. You are a tightrope walker. You are balancing everything perfectly. Have you ever heard of Rock Cairns? They are stacks of rocks that hikers add to as they pass by on park trails. You have turned your life into something like that. You have perfectly balanced every stone you passed in your life in a pile and you manage it all on your own. First off, I want to tell you what a good job you are doing. What a good job you have been doing since you were born. Second thing, PLEASE REST WHEN YOU NEED IT OHMYGODS. You don't need me to tell you that though. You are probably smoking a joint right fucking now while reading this or you just got done doing that. No notes, baby. You got this. I just think Spirit wanted to remind you of your magnificence.

[darkbluekies]

The witty and uncanny pt 2

Doctor!yandere OC x reader x mafia!yandere OC

Summary: you knew that they'd be back for you, you just didn't know you'd stumble upon them so quickly.

Warnings: stalking, guns, knives, yandere

word count: 2.3k

Part 1 part 3

You pull the dark hood over your face and sit down by the coffee shop's counter, eyes cautiously wandering around the room. You're not sure who's a friend and who's an enemy. Silas has eyes everywhere and you wouldn't be surprised if he'd ordered more people to look for you. After your escape from the hospital, you've done your best to keep a low profile. You've couch surfed and slept outside. It hasn't been comfortable, but it worked. In the inside pocket of your black hoodie is the gun you stole from Silas and then from doctor Kry. You always keep it close … just in case they decide to show up unannounced.

"Hi, Y/N", your manager smiles. "Ready for your shift?"

"Yes", you answer.

When you've collected enough money, you're getting out of here. You like this place, maybe even more than you'd admit. The atmosphere is slow and soft, no one's in a hurry, everyone's just enjoying the moment. Just like you should.

Dr Kry sighs and puts down the dumbbells. His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it even worth it anymore? Despite working so hard that his muscles are pulsating, he can't feel anything. He had you and then he lost you … and then he had you again … and you got away. Dr Kry doesn't blame you for hurting him. You were scared, hurt and unwell. You acted irrationally. That's why he has to get you back. You're not well and the world will only hurt you. Or worse …

His foot is back to normal by now. A scar is left from where you shot him. He can't get himself to feel mad over it. It's a constant reminder of you, so why should he be angry? 

Dr Kry leaves the gym to go take a shower. He does so in your room, somehow wishing that you'll be lying in the bed once he comes out again. He hates to see the empty bed, but he still comes into the room everyday. He uses the shower as an excuse to walk in, but sometimes he just sits by your bed, watching over nothing.

After showering, he makes himself ready to go out. He puts on a sand colored Jean jacket over a white turtleneck and a pair of blue jeans.

The only reason he leaves the hospital is to look for you. He has been to your parents house, your friends houses, motels and other hospitals. He saw some traces of you on a couch in a friend's house. He knows that you're somewhere around him, and it's just a matter of time before he finds you.

You pour up a hot cup of coffee for a customer and give them a gentle smile. Your head is pounding. It's been months since you last slept in a real bed. Ironically enough it was the hospital bed. Couch surfing might keep you social, but your organs are suffering. One wrong move and your spine will split in two.

"Good morning, could I have a plain, black coffee, please?" a voice asks gently. "No coffee, nothing extra … just a plain, black coffee?"

Your eyes dart to the man in front of your colleague as your heart sinks to your stomach. Without his doctor's clothes, he's almost unrecognizable. He looks just like anyone else. 

You're quick to look away and continue with the last customer's order. Your colleague will take care of the doctor. If you're lucky you won't have to interact with him at all and he won't notice you. You pull the hoodie closer and feel for the gun in your pocket.

Your colleagues glance at Dr Kry, unforgivingly checking him out. You give him a discreet look. He has bags under his eyes. He's always had them, but these ones are darker. Otherwise he looks normal.

"Y/N, can you take this order?" your colleague asks you as she swings her bag over her shoulder. "I have to go to the post office before twelve or my letter won't reach my parents before their anniversary."

You want to yell at her but instead you press your lips together and nod. She disappears, leaving you alone by the counter. Quietly, you start to pour a white cup with steaming hot coffee

"Quite a nice morning, don't you think?" Dr Kry says.

You nod, still keeping your head down. The hood covers most of your features and you hope that he's too tall to notice the hair that sticks out. If you start tucking it back, he'll grow suspicious.

You give him the cup and you shudder as your fingers brush against his. Electricity shoots through your veins — and not the good kind.

"Thank you so much", Dr Kry smiles. "Have a good day."

"You too", you whisper.

He walks away. Quickly, you run to the changing room to catch your breath. Holy fuck, he was right in front of you. You literally touched him. You talked to him. This was too much. Without a second to waste, you throw the apron off your body and sprint out the back door. This was too risky, you can't come back here in case he ever comes back. Your heart is beating in your ears. You run the quickest you can down the street before he can realize.

Doctor Kry walks out to his white car with his coffee in his hands. He sighs heavily and takes a sip. It burns nicely in his throat, it reminds him that he's still alive. He feels like a walking shell. He looks for you every day … but you're nowhere.

Wait. That voice. That … touch. 

Dr Kry quickly turns around and looks at the sweet coffee shop. He hurries back in. The counter is empty. With a quick glance around, he walks behind the corner and into the back room. He looks around, seeing an apron on the floor. Squatting down, he picks it up. The nameplate says a name he first doesn't recognize, but then he smiles. Your middle name. 

"Oh, sweetheart", he sighs with a smile on his face. "It really was you."

Hope is blooming in his chest. Holy fuck, he was right in front of you. You literally touched him. You talked to him. He needs more. He notices that the back door is swung open and runs out tk his car. He'll catch you soon enough. He's not unarmed this time.

He's utterly embarrassed. Fainting on the floor in a hospital like that? Because someone managed to prick a needle into him? That's not something he brings up often and frankly something he wishes to forget. The second he regained consciousness he called for his right hand man to pick him up. There was blood in the elevator when he was getting up to the ground floor and he feared it came from you. Silas had to leave the hospital that day. He still believes that the doctor has kept you away in the hospital room. One day he'll be back for you and he won't let that uncanny doctor win. He has put out his men all over the city to keep their eyes open for you. You can't hide forever, it's just a matter of time. But for the time being, he's keeping himself occupied with work until he comes up with a plan to get you away from that pesky doctor.

"Boss, we found them!" 

Silas looks up. "Where?"

"They were caught on one of the city's surveillance cameras, running down the street. We've seen them before, it's the one with the black hoodie. The hood flew off when they were running."

"I had a feeling that it was them!"

He should have trusted his gut. He could already have had you, but he told himself that it couldn't be you. You were at the hospital, weren't you? Apparently not.

"Let's go get them", Silas says and stands up. "I'll get my coat. Get a blanket, they must be cold and make someone prepare the basement. I've had enough of this running around."

Silas grabs his black coat and storms out to his car. His men follow and one gives the boss a green blanket he can wrap around your body once they get you.

Silas jumps into his car, ready to go. He won't let you get far. 

He speeds through the city to reach you before you disappear.

"Where are they?" he asks his second in command. "Hurry up!"

"I-I don't know, boss!" He almost shouts back. "They're not on any of the cameras anymore."

"What?!"

"The last I can see of them was ten minutes ago. They ran out into the forest!"

"I fucking hate them."

He sighs heavily. He'll have to search for you in the woods? He might as well burn it down when he’s at it. He speeds up, determined to get to you before the forest swallows you whole. 

Not long after starting your forced workout, you can hear a car speed up beside you. Looking to the side, you see the face of a familiar blonde man behind the wheel. You gasp and run into the forest before he has time to park. 

"Y/N!" Dr Kry shouts behind you. "Wait!"

Like hell you will. You speed up, flying over the dirty ground beneath you. Behind you, you can hear the man run quickly as a tiger. You feel for the gun in your pocket, happy that it’s still there. Soon, you feel how the doctor grabs a hold of you and suddenly, the ground disappears from under your feet. For a second, you fall, only to be hit by the harsh ground. 

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Y/N”, Dr Kry says and helps you up on your feet. “But I didn’t know how else to stop you.” 

He brushes off your clothes with his hands before cupping your cheeks that have started bleeding. You’re too tired, too scared to move. Teary eyes glare at him as he caresses your cheeks with his hands. 

“My sweetheart”, he whispers and hugs you tightly. “My poor, little Y/N, I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you again. I’ve been feeling so awful about how our last encounter ended. I don’t blame you, you don’t have to be worried that I’m angry. I’m not, I promise! I know Silas scared you and that you wanted to get as far away from him as possible … and that meant getting away from me too. I understand.”

“No!” you shout and push yourself out of his chest. “You don’t understand a single, fucking thing!”

He hisses and brings you back, suffocating you into his sand colored jacket. 

“Let me go!” you shout and try reaching for the gun. 

Something sharp hits you in your waist and you freeze. 

“Y/N”, Dr Kry whispers in your ear. “Don’t make me hurt you, okay? I really don’t want to.”

“If you care about me so much, why would you hurt me? You sick freak.”

“If you don’t understand what’s best for you, then I have to take drastic measures to take you back where you’re safe. You have to understand that, sweetpea.”

“Drop the knife.”

You freeze at the new voice. It can’t be. Before you have time to register the voice, Dr Kry has pushed you behind him. You can glance at Silas standing a few meters away dressed in his black coat, but you hide behind the doctor to shield yourself. 

“How did you know we were here?” Dr Kry asks coldly. 

“I have my ways”, Silas answers just as chilly. “Now, give me what’s mine and you won’t die here today. I might even let you go. Might.”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Silas? You were no match for me last time.”

“Oh, come on, doc … you shouldn’t annoy me. You had luck before. But we’re no longer in your hospital, you have nothing to use here. I’m at an advantage.”

“At least I have Y/N, am I right?”

Silas grits his teeth. “Not for long. What have you done to their cheek?”

"They fell."

Silas tilts his head to look at you. "Clumsy baby. I guess I have to tie you to the bed once we come home, to make sure that you don't hurt yourself running anymore."

"You mean chaining me to the wall in the fucking basement!" you shout, unable to control your anger any longer.

"Details", Silas scoffs and rolls his eyes. "What's important is that you're coming back with me."

"They're not going home with you!" Dr Kry says sternly. "After what happened to them last time they were in your care, I'll never allow it! They have to come back to the hospital with me. I take good care of them."

"Like Hell they do! They belong to me!"

You decide to take this opportunity to flee. They’re too busy arguing that they don’t notice how you back away from Dr Kry and make a run for it into the woods. Only when you’ve come ten meters away, do they notice the running shadow. 

“Y/N, come back!” Dr Kry gasps before glaring at Silas. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

He’s about to run after you when Silas's voice is heard again. He's gotten an insane idea that he's not sure of himself.

"Hey, doc."

"What?" Dr Kry scoffs, turning his head to the criminal who's standing calmly with his hands in his pockets.

"How about we team up?"