#i do not sleep so consuming the dreams of another is the closest i come.

[buddysys]

technically, yes, i am an extremely powerful demonic entity that feeds off of souls and dreams. but i prefer flowers to them. souls taste weird and dreams are intangible.

[enby-jellyfish]

Once Upon A Dream

Part of the Baldur's Gate 3 Fairytale AU Collection

Sleeping Beauty!Astarion X GN!Prince Phillip!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

Summary: Astarion gets a second curse after accidentally upsetting Cazador, however shall he get out of this one?

Warnings: Canon typical abuse/torture, minor character death, crying, graphic depiction of violence.

Word Count: 2952

A/N: Don't mind me, just giving Astarion some more angst :) (don't worry, it has a happy ending)

Once upon a time there was a young elf who, after a terrible incident where he was assaulted and almost killed by a gang of Gur, was turned into a vampire by the self-proclaimed ‘master of all evil’, the Vampire Lord, Cazador Szarr.

After his turning, Astarion was forced into servitude and the only interactions he was allowed besides with his master was when he was made to seduce and lure unknowing people back to the Szarr palace for his master to feed on while he was made to make do with dead rats and bugs.

If Astarion were to disobey in any way there would be a harsh punishment; beatings, starvation, cutting, isolation. The isolation was the worst.

One night when Astarion was on his way to fetch another poor unfortunate soul for his master he got almost run over by the horse drawn cart of an old woman, falling and ripping his doublet in the process.

The old woman had profusely apologised as she helped him up, insisting for him to come with her to her cottage not far up the dirt road so she could fix up his torn clothes. Astarion tried to refuse at first, fearing what his master would do to him if he didn’t manage to bring someone back, but eventually caved, agreeing to go with her if she would be quick.

The old woman had been overjoyed, practically dragging him onto her cart and prattling away about how it has been so long since her children had come to visit, how she misses spoiling them, and how she recently became a grandmother.

When they arrive at her quaint cottage, she sits him down in a far too soft armchair and puts on a kettle before grabbing a basket with various dyed wools, comparing the colours to the one of Astarion’s doublet whilst continuing to make conversation with him.

When she finds the closest match, the kettle starts whistling and she pours two cups of tea, handing one to Astarion and keeping one for herself as she sits by an old spinning wheel and gets to work.

Astarion doesn’t drink the tea, he can’t consume anything but blood since his turning, but still feels a sense of comfort from the warmth of the cup. Listening to the old woman talk isn’t that bad either.

The warmth of the cup mixed with the smell of the tea, the soft chair, and the sound of the old lady’s voice and the soft creaking of the spinning wheel puts him in an almost hypnotic state of calm. He hasn’t felt like this in years.

After spinning enough thread, she asks for his doublet and expertly mends the tear. When she is done it’s like it was never torn to begin with.

When Astarion ‘finishes’ his tea, he poured it in a plant when she wasn’t looking, she waves him off, telling him to come by any time.

Astarion continues what he was let out of the palace for, the kind spinster in the back of his mind.

After that night he stopped by the cottage every time he was on his way to town, the old spinster welcoming him with open arms and a hot cup of tea waiting for him.

Unfortunately, Astarion should have known he was not meant to have good things.

Cazador had become suspicious at his spawn’s increasing change in character, he had become more calm, less jittery, and decided to follow him, not at all liking what he saw.

The next time Astarion visited the cottage it lacked the familiar warmth it usually had, a cold chill running down his spine when he entered. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my pathetic excuse of a spawn. So, this is what you have been doing while you should have been doing what I sent you out for.”

Astarion feels sick to his stomach, fighting every instinct in his body to turn around and face his master instead of running away. It’s not like he could go far anyway.

“Master, I-” He tries to explain. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You broke the rules Astarion.” Cazador tuts like he is scolding a child. “Although, maybe your new friend here would like to hear an apology, you are the cause of her impending death after all.” He roughly pulls out the old spinster from behind him. “Go on.”

Astarion takes a shaky breath. “I- I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” Tears start rolling down his face. “Oh, hush child. I know, and I forgive you.” She is crying too now. “I am sorry too, one day you will receive all the love and kindness you deserve, Astarion. I promise.”

Cazador interrupts them with a sound of disgust. “What a sickening display, that’s enough out of you.” He grabs the spinster by the sides of her head and with one swift movement jerks her head to the side, breaking her neck with a sickening crack.

A pained noise escapes Astarion’s mouth, a cross between a sob and a gasp, his hand quickly coming up in an attempt to prevent more noise from coming out. Tears are streaming down his face when Cazador harshly grabs it, stepping over the dead body of the spinster.

“Now, what to do with you, hmm?” Cazador looks around the room, his gaze landing on the spinning wheel in the corner. “The isolation always had the biggest effect on you, hadn’t it? A month in the dungeon should suffice. But what about future offences?”

He walked over to where his staff stood propped up against a wall. “If you break the rules again,” The staff begins exuding a lime green light, the air growing thick with magic. “, you shall prick your finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a dreamless sleep, never to awaken, trapped within the darkness of your own mind.”

Astarion falls to his knees. “NO, please master I beg of you, have mercy!” Cazador scoffs. “Mercy?” He pretends to think about it. “Fine, I’ll be merciful, you have been bringing me my prey as I ordered, despite your… escapades.” Cazador inhales sharply. “All right, I’ll give you a chance to break your curse.”

The staff brightens again. “Your curse shall be broken by receiving a true love’s kiss.” The light fades and Cazador grabs Astarion’s face again, smiling down at him. “As if you could find anyone that will be able to love you.”

Astarion spends the following month in the dungeon. His cell is small, cold, and moist. He feels utterly and absolutely alone. That is, until he falls asleep. Ever since that unfortunate night he has been having a strange dream.

He is dressed in formal clothes, dancing on the clouds with someone. He can never remember anything about this person when he wakes up, except the overwhelming feeling of love he has for this person.

Every day, it's the same dream, and every night, it's the same nightmare.

The dream continues when Astarion is let out of the dungeon. Part of him is happy it stayed; the dream provides him with the only comfort he has in his forced servitude. Another part is upset, because the dream reminds him that this will always be what it is, a dream.

Years later, Astarion is on his usual way to town, practicing his memorised lines as he walks. Lost in thought he suddenly gets pushed into the ditch. “HEY, watch where y-”

“I AM SO SORRY, I don’t know what got into him, are you hurt?” Astarion looks up, rubbing his head, squinting as he watches his, apparently unwilling, assailant jump off their horse, rushing to his aid.

You pull him up. “Are you hurt?” You repeat, looking the stranger in his ruby eyes.

Huh, there’s something familiar about him.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, lost in each other’s beauty while trying to figure out if you’ve met before.

Astarion breaks the silence. “Uh, no, I’m fine.” You are confused for a second before remembering your question. “Oh, right. That’s good.” You reluctantly let his cold hands go. “Say, how about you let me buy you a drink?” The question spills from your lips before you can stop it.

He has an odd look in his eye. Was that too forward? “Uh, to make up for my horse pushing you down!” Astarion takes in your question. On the inside he’s panicking. Who is this person? Why does he feel this way? Pull. Yourself. Together!

“And what makes you think I would accept a drink from a stranger? For all I know you could be a murderer, waiting for a moment of weakness before you strike.” The words come out just as he had practiced, smooth, flirtatious. He regains some of his confidence, only for it to be completely shattered again by the laugh you let out. “Oh, but we aren’t strangers!”

“Aren’t we?” Astarion is sure you’ve never met before, he would have remembered, yet he can’t shake that familiar feeling. “No, we’ve met before, once upon a dream.” It’s corny for sure, calling him the man of your dreams. But he is, isn’t he? You’ve had that same dream since you can remember.

Astarion is stunned. No, they can’t be- but maybe? “Right, how could I forget.” He lets out a nervous chuckle, deciding to just surrender to the moment. “I’ll allow you to buy me a drink, but I want to know your name first.” You smile and tell him your name; he repeats it before telling you his.

With that the two of you go off to find a tavern. You spend the whole night talking, drinking, and dancing. It’s almost too good to be true.

Astarion wants this night to last forever, but alas. The sun is coming up soon. He had to get going if he didn’t want to get burned.

“Same time tomorrow?” He smiles at you. “I’ll see you in my dreams before then, darling.” He kisses your hands and departs for the palace.

When Astarion enters the palace, he is met with an eery humming sound coming from above. In a daze, he follows the noise up several flights of stairs, to a room in a tower he’s never been before.

The room is empty, except for a spinning wheel, seemingly spinning on its own. Astarion feels an uncontrollable need to touch it. The humming is almost deafening as he gets closer, reaching out his hand.

With a hiss Astarion pricks his finger on the spindle and immediately feels woozy. Tearing his sluggish gaze from the bead of blood on his finger, he notices a dark figure standing in the doorway before everything goes dark.

Astarion doesn’t show up the next night, or the one after that. Your dreams have also stopped. Whispers have started circulating throughout town about a cursed palace. It’s not much to go on but considering it all happened at the same time you take it as a clue.

You start asking around, learning that the palace belongs to the feared Vampire Lord, Cazador Szarr, and that he hasn’t been seen since the supposed curse. With that information you take off, with your trusty steed, strong armour, and a sharpened sword, ready for anything you might find.

The first thing you notice is the plant life. What once must have been beautiful roses have overgrown the palace, its thorns digging into the stone, making sure nothing can get in, or out. You hop off your horse, unsheathe your sword and start cutting away at the thick stems. With some effort you manage to clear an entrance and enter the palace.

“Either you are incredibly stupid to try and break into a cursed Vampire Lord’s palace, or that snivelling worm actually succeeded in making someone fall in love with him, which would also not make you the brightest.” Startled you turn to face who you assume to be Cazador. “You’re talking about Astarion.” You grip your sword a little tighter.

He laughs manically at you. “Look at you, his knight in shining armour! I’m almost rooting for you, almost. But to truly win me over you’ll need to defeat the dragon first, of course.” You don’t like where this is going. “Dragon?”

He laughs again, his eyes now glowing a lime green. His voice starts sounding distorted, deeper than it was. His bones start shifting and he begins to grow.

You sheath your sword and take off, not needing to see what is happening to know he is turning himself into a dragon.

The ground shakes beneath your feet as Cazador follows you, letting out a growl and flapping his giant wings.

You find yourself in a ballroom, catching your breath you quickly formulate a plan. The tall room has several pillars holding up the ceiling, a staircase ascending to a balcony that overlooks the room, intricate banners hanging from the balustrade. You can make do with that.

With that thought, Cazador bursts through the entrance, taking down the door and part of the wall with him. Quickly you run for a pillar, managing to hide behind it right when Cazador sends a burst of fire your way, the flames just barely missing you. You try and slow your breathing, waiting for his next move.

Impatient with his now giant body, Cazador smashes his tail through the pillar, forcing you to start running for the stairs. You almost make it until a giant clumsy claw scratches at your arm, ripping off the armour. You scream in pain and stumble to escape up the stairs, just barely missing the next fire burst from Cazador’s mouth. You make your way to the balustrade and pry off a banner, grasping the heavy fabric close to your chest.

Your lungs are burning, beads of sweat are rolling down your face, and your arm hurts like hell, blood dripping down the limb, mixing with your sweat. Shakily you stand, facing the dragon.

You throw the banner at Cazador’s face before he can blast more fire at you, forcing him to stop and swat away the fabric so he can see, but he isn’t quick enough. You use the balustrade as a step, jumping to the dragon’s face, unsheathing your sword in the process and stabbing the dragon through its shout.

The both of you go down, you roll away with your sword as soon as you hit the ground. You shakily get up, watching Cazador starting to shrink, clawing at his face. He may not be dead, but he’s definitely incapacitated for a bit. Good enough.

You sheath your sword and rush back to the now destroyed entrance, running through hallways and up stairs until you finally find what you came here to find.

The tower is almost empty, a wooden coffin sits nailed shut in the middle. You use your sword as leverage to break open the coffin. Inside lays Astarion, cold, not moving, not breathing.

You are too late.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you cup his face. “I’m sorry.” You whisper tearfully before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

You stay there for a moment, your forehead pressed against his, until you feel his chest start to rise and fall. Confused you press your hand to his chest, feeling the steady thumping of a heartbeat. You watch stunned as his eyelashes begin to flutter and he opens his eyes. No longer are they ruby, but sapphire instead.

You mutter his name in disbelief. He looks at you with a dazed expression his hand coming up to hold yours. He feels warm.

Astarion slowly sits up, running his tongue over his teeth before looking at you in shock. “You’ve broken both of my curses?” You laugh nervously. “What can I say, I’ve always been an overachiever.” He laughs too, squeezing your hand.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. You’ve been here long enough” You pull him up and the two of you stumble down the tower, almost exiting the palace before you hear a gargling sound.

You turn and are met with the sight of Cazador, back in his usual form, crawling towards you on the floor, his face covered in blood. The viscous liquid dripping down his neck and onto his expensive shirt.

Astarion looks from his former master to you, a mix of rage and grief thundering behind his eyes. You unsheathe your sword for the final time, extending the weapon to Astarion. “You can do with him as you please.”

Astarion takes your sword and stalks over to the bloodied vampire on the ground. He grabs Cazador by the hair, turning him over to face him before stabbing. Astarion drops the vampire and uses two hands to drive the sword through his former master again, and again, and again. Eventually he stops, Cazador long dead, dropping the sword as he lets out a tortured scream. Astarion is sobbing now and covered in blood.

Carefully you move to kneel next to him. The second you put your hand on him he flings himself at you, crying into your shoulder as he releases the grief over all those years of torture and abuse.

Eventually he calms down and you both get up, exhausted as you leave the palace. You help him on your horse, who miraculously stayed through all that, and start riding back to town.

You stop only briefly to watch the sunrise, Astarion closing his eyes and basking in the sunshine, knowing that the two of you will now be able to continue to live happily ever after.

The end.

Masterlist

Tag list: @glitterandgoldfinds

Thank you for reading <3

[lambtotheslaughterr]

The Taming : Part Four

A Clark Kent Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.9k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART THREE | MASTERLIST | PART FIVE

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

            Perhaps I underestimated her.

            I knew she would try anything to get me away from her cousin, but I did not anticipate her going to the lengths I had by exposing our interactions. Admittedly, I expected her to take a more cunning approach when she learned that I told Ariana about what she had said that morning in the kitchen, but instead she challenged me directly, in front of Ariana, in public. Unfortunately, I had not seen it coming.

            But I was not worried. It only meant Ariana would no longer be needed. However, after what Ariana did, I knew her cousin would not be quick to forgive her. She was not the forgiving type, that much was obvious. And fortunately for me, that worked in my favor. The more I could rid that defiant, wily brat of her closest allies, the more isolated she would become, & then when she was completely alone, I would take her.

            And ruin her.

It had been the only time in your life that anyone had accosted you so violently, if you could even call it that. And as much as you thought you would have been fuming, you found your curiosity about Clark spiking. That, more than anything, disturbed you the most. Clark Kent was not a good guy; you had known that from the moment you laid eyes on him in Club 22. But Ariana couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see it. But he showed you as such in Lisette’s bathroom. His hand around your throat as he held you against the wall.

            The memory of it all kept you from sleeping most of your nights. It had happened a week ago, yet it consumed nearly all your waking thoughts. While at work or taking a shower or even lying in bed trying to sleep, you sometimes unconsciously brought your own hand to your throat & gently gripped. Every time you did though, you felt like you were being electrocuted. You couldn’t believe that Clark’s physical assault had had a long-lasting effect, & not even the expected kind.

            Your dreams as of late consisted of being followed by a faceless figure, always just out of sight, but you could feel them there. Feel him there. It was Clark, you knew as much, who invaded not only your conscious thoughts but your sleeping ones. For the last week, you had thought about him much more than you would have liked, but it also didn’t help that he had been hanging around the apartment more now that he & Ari were growing closer to one another.

            In fact, it was Ariana’s flirtatious giggling that had woken you the following Friday morning. You had yet another sleepless night followed by dreams of a man who stalked you until you were right within his grasp. But you woke every time he turned you to face him.

            You snapped your eyes open at Ari’s nearby laughter, groaning annoyingly into your pillow. Snatching your phone off the nightstand, you noted it was only 9:30 in the morning. Much too early for you. Every day except for the one day a week you worked, you almost always slept in till noon. It was one of the perks of your privilege & not a perk you were willing to part from, especially with your dreams being consumed by Ari’s questionable boy-toy.

     ��      Throwing off your blankets, you slipped out of bed & slipped into a robe that would cover your matching bra & underwear. Once you slipped on a headband & moisturized your face, you left your bedroom & began to walk lightly to the kitchen. As much as you wanted to stomp in there & accost the two of them, you also didn’t want to rush in on the off chance that Ari would be bold enough to be fooling around in a shared space.

            Turning into the kitchen, you were greeted with a sight less than pleasing. Ari was sat on one of the counters in a matching pajama set & in between her legs was none other than Clark as he held her by her hips & trailed kisses along her shoulder. Ari had her head angled upwards, exposing the column of her throat, her arms draped over his shirtless, broad shoulders as she giggled some more. You were peeved by the sight. But at least they weren’t fucking.

            Clearing your throat loudly, you crossed your arms over your chest.

            “Oh!” Ari’s eyed widened, gently pushing Clark away from her. You noted how he looked mildly annoyed at your presence.

            Good, you thought, the feeling is mutual.

            “Sorry, did we wake you?” Ari gave you an apologetic smile.

            “Yup.” You did not return the smile but instead turned your back on them to begin brewing a pot of coffee.

            “Sorry, cuz. We’ll be more quiet next time.”

            “Super.” You replied dryly, feeling both of their eyes watching you.

            “I should probably go get changed.” You heard as Ari hopped off the counter, “Got one more class to finish before summer break.”

            “I understand.” Clark responded coolly.

            You eyed them inconspicuously in the glossy finish of the cabinet above your head. They kissed a few more times, the wet sounds practically making your ears bleed. Making a face of disgust that neither could see, you heard when Ari padded out of the kitchen space. Then it was just you & Clark. Again.

            You pointedly ignored him, despite feeling his burning stare at the center of your back. Once the coffee was finished brewing, you poured yourself a mug before finally turning to face him. You forced yourself to only look at him from the neck up, though you noticed how his lounge pants hung loosely from his hips, revealing all of his finely muscled abdomen & chest.

            But unlike you, who didn’t dare show any slight interest in his lack of dress, Clark shamelessly grazed the length of you, his eyes pausing briefly on your exposed thighs just below your silk robe. However, much to both your chagrin & annoyance, Clark was not appraising you in a desirable fashion. He rather look unimpressed. And that, more than anything, pissed you off. Who was he to think you weren’t good enough? More than half of the men in Metropolis would die to spend a night with you, let alone see you so underdressed. Yet Clark appeared disinterested.

            You were just about to make a snarky comment when he opened his mouth first.

            “Mind if I have a cup?” He asked, referring to the coffee you just brewed.

            What a perfect time, you realized, to exert your dominance over him. This was your home. Yours. Ari was simply a long-term guest, effectively making Clark even less than.

            Grabbing the coffee pot by it’s handle, you made as if you were going to hand him the pot. But as soon as he held out his hand to accept the pot, you rotated to the left & emptied the freshly brewed coffee into the sink.

            “Yes.” You looked at him & offered a sickly sweet smile, “I do.”

            Clark chuckled lightly at that, resting his hip against the counter just a foot away from you, his massive arms crossed over his equally massive chest. You forced yourself not to look at, let alone admire, the contours of his muscles as he moved.

            “Feeling bratty this morning, I see. Not sleeping well?”

            “No.” You placed the coffee pot on the counter beside the sink, turning to face him head on, “My cousin can’t seem to get rid of this street rat she insists on bringing home every night; makes it hard to sleep.”

            He nodded at that, biting his lower lip in a smile before he stepped closer to you. You had nearly taken a step back, your body reacting to the last time he closed the distance between the two of you, but you steeled yourself to stand your ground. This was your kitchen, your home. You’d be damned if Clark made you back down here of all places.

            He was only a few inches from you & he towered over you greatly as he narrowed his eyes down at you, “I think you just need an exhaustive experience to help.”

            “No.” You shook your head, smirking haughtily up at him, “You just need to leave.”

            Clark returned the smirk. Then your eyes fell to one of his hands as he dropped it to graze against the hem of your robe, “You & I both know I’m not going anywhere.”

            You felt conflicted when you felt his fingers brush against the skin of your thigh, making your lips part. His eyes fell to your lips, his smirk turning even more upwards.

            “You like me around more than you want to admit.”

            “If only for a chance to smother you in your sleep.” You returned, but your voice failed to sound as threatening as you wanted it to.

            “Something tells me you’re the one that wants to be smothered.”

            What he did next surprised you. In a bold move with his other hand, Clark undid the loose tie on your robe, letting it fall open, exposing your lingerie clad body to him.

            You inhaled sharply, refusing to react to it. He was intentionally trying to make you crumble. You needed to clear your mind & get your shit together. Even if you weren’t fully naked under the robe, you wouldn’t allow him to make you feel like you were in a submissive position.

            As Clark’s eyes traveled the length of you once more, his eyes much darker than they had been the first time, you simply reached up & removed the robe entirely, letting the silk fabric fall to the floor.

            His eyes flashed to yours.

            The kitchen was filled with only tense silence as the two of you stared challengingly at one another. You could’ve been fully naked & you still would’ve held your ground. All it was was skin. You weren’t embarrassed or ashamed of your body, you were proud of it. And you knew Clark could see that. Him seeing you like so did nothing to diminish your pride. He would have to try another route, & he would surely fail.

            “I will hurt you.” He promised.

            You only smiled, baring all teeth, “You can try.”

            And with that, you spun on your heel & strutted out of the kitchen, your robe long forgotten on the kitchen floor.

            Clark left with Ari that morning & normally you would’ve taken that opportunity to get more shut eye. But you were too wired. Your interaction with Clark in the kitchen had kept you wide awake. You instead showered & got dressed for the day. As you showered though, you couldn’t deny the ecstatic smile draped across your face.

            Battling with Clark had been, admittedly, the most fun you had had in a long time. No one had ever challenged you as often as he had. From the very first moment you two saw one another, a war had been brewing. One alpha against another. You surmised that that was why your interest in him was growing by the minute. Everyone got out of your way—both metaphorically & literally. Yet Clark stood his ground, much like you. And as much as you hated to acknowledge it, the two of you were more alike than you thought.

            Of course, you would still be happier if he were not around, especially when it came to Ari because he would surely hurt her in some way, but you couldn’t deny that adrenaline rush that came from interacting with him. Perhaps, for now, you’d tolerate him simply for entertaining purposes, but you were still looking forward to the day when Ari would kick him to the curb. And you’d be there to pick up the pieces he dropped. Then Ari would never let another pathetic man come between the two of you again.

            After getting ready for the day, you decided to go shopping. Liv was still sleeping & not answering her phone, & Nic had her hands full with clients, so shopping had been a solo trip. You spent a couple hours on Metropolis’ equivalent of Rodeo Drive before you had lunch at a nearby restaurant. Once you were finished eating & decidedly done shopping, you made the unexpected choice to have your driver bring you to the Ari’s university campus.

            You recalled earlier that morning that today was her last day of classes. You wanted to surprise her by picking her up & taking her out on a shopping spree for herself before treating her to dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. Because of her sudden & ever-growing relationship with Clark, you hadn’t spent much time with her. More so, you refused to let yourself be the reason you two fell out of being close to one another, Clark be damned. So, you’d swallow your pride & insist on taking her out to celebrate the end of her third year.

            The driver dropped you off on the west side of Metropolis U, & you quickly used maps on your phone to look up the library on campus. You knew she’d be there if she wasn’t in class, so you began to head in that direction. The library was massive once you were inside. You had spent very little time in libraries in the past but this one put all of them to shame. You feared it would take you hours before you found Ari as you traversed down aisles in search of your cousin. But you luckily spotted her sitting at a table by a set of windows, the table she was at covered in textbooks.

            She had her back to you so you snuck up on her, quickly shielding her eyes with your hands, “Guess who?”

            “Wha—” Ari pulled your hands away from her face & turned in her seat to spot you.

            “_____?” She pulled out some earphones she had on, “What are you doing here?”

            “Surprising you.” You responded coolly before moving her backpack out of the seat beside her to sit down, “Obviously.”

            She smiled confusingly but laughed lightly, “Okay… everything alright?”

            “Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

            She narrowed her eyes towards you, “I’ve been going to school here for three years & you’ve never came to see me before so… something is up.��

            You sighed dismissively, “I just want to take you out to dinner. To celebrate.”

            She frowned at that, “Celebrate what?”

            “Summer, baby. The end of school, yada yada.”

            “Oh.” She nodded once, “How thoughtful.”

            Rolling your eyes, you yanked the textbook she was reading away from her, sending it sliding to the other side of the table, “What’s your problem?”

            “I don’t have a problem.”

            “Bullshit.” You replied none-too-gently.

            Other students at nearby tables threw you glares.

            “Shh, jesus.” Ari hisses.

            “What is the problem?” You repeated, uncaring if you were disturbing others.

            “Nothing, I just—I have plans tonight already.”

            Sighing, you leaned back in your seat to stare at her, “With Clark?”

            “Yes, with Clark. And don’t even begin to give me crap for it. He already told me how rude you were this morning.”

            “He what?” You asked incredulously.

            “Yeah.” She raised her brows knowingly at you, “Dumped the coffee out so he couldn’t have any, called him a street rat, told him to leave. Am I missing anything?”

            “Wow.” You licked your lips. Clark wasn’t as much fun as you thought he was. He was actually trying to drive a wedge between you & Ari.

            Well then, you thought, two can play this game.

            “He’s not so innocent either.” You began, “Did he also tell you how he choked me in the bathroom at Lisette? Called me a bitch?”

            To your shock, Ari scoffed. Actually fucking scoffed.

            “Oh, my god.” She shook her head as she stared in disbelief at you, “You’re unbelievable! You’ll say anything to try to get rid of him, won’t you?”

            “Are you serious right now?” Your voice raised. More stares gathered but neither of you cared at this point.

            “If he did call you a bitch I imagine it was well deserved, but choking you? That’s a new level, even for you.” Ari began to gather her books in haste to stuff them into her backpack. When she reached for the textbook you slid away from her you pushed it even farther until it fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

            “Real mature.” She replied sardonically before rounding the table to the other side.

            “I came here to do something nice for you & you’re treating me like shit & accusing me of lying. Over a fucking guy!”

            Ari huffed out, shaking her head but didn’t respond, focused on finishing putting the books in her bag. Then when she began to walk away you followed after her. Despite her little legs, she moved fast & you struggled to keep up with her in your heels. Once the two of you were outside the library though she spun around to face you.

            “Why can’t you just back off?” Ari demanded. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

            “Because Clark isn’t a good guy, Ari!” You exclaimed, “He’s the one who’s lying!”

            “So you didn’t do all those things he said you did this morning?” She crossed her arms, her lips pursed.

            “Well, no, okay, yes I did do & say all of that but only because of what he did!”

            “Choked you in the bathroom at Lisette? Right.”

            “Wow.” You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared at your cousin, “You’re gonna be one of those girls, huh?”

            “Oh, please, _____.” Ari turned away to begin walking away again, “You’ve had it out for Clark before you even knew him & you expect me to believe you? Get your shit together.”

            Stomping after her, you cut her off & stared her head-on, “I am telling the truth. And I really fucking hope you don’t find out the ugly way that I was right. But when you do… don’t come crying to me.”

            Wanting to have the last word, you turned to begin walking away but halted when your eyes landed on another standing just a few feet away, a tray of two coffee’s in his hand.

            Speak of the devil & he shall appear.

            “You.” You sneered, marching towards him.

            “You?” He returned. He was wearing those same thick-framed glasses he had been wearing on the subway the first night you met.

            “Tell her what you did. Now!”

            “What I—what are you talking ab—”

            “No!” You waved away his feigned innocence, “You have no problem telling her when I’m being a piece of shit but keep your mouth shut when it’s you that’s the piece of shit? Tell her. Now.”

            “Clark, I’m sorry, she’s—”

            “Do not apologize for me.” You turned your furious glare onto Ari when she appeared between the two of you. Looking back at Clark, you narrowed your eyes, “You know what you did, Clark. At Lisette.”

            His eyes held your own but there was no emotion or thought behind them. Just completely blank as he returned your stare.

            “Just ignore her, she’s claiming you choked her.”

            Your eyes flashed to Ari in betrayal. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree whatsoever…

            “Wow.” Taking a step back, you glanced between the two of them, “I see.”

            Turning your back, you were prepared to leave them behind but before you did you faced them once more, but your eyes were solely on Ari, “Don’t come back to the apartment unless it’s to get your things. You’re no family of mine.”

            Ari frowned angrily, “What? Are you serious?”

            “Deadly.” You replied in short before looking at Clark once more then back to your cousin, “You wanna choose him over me than you can live with him. I’m done taking care of you.”

            Without another word, you spun away & left them behind.

            It was nearly midnight when you heard the door to your apartment open then close. You were in your bedroom, still stewing from your midday interaction with Ari & Clark. Though they weren’t made for each other, Ari would learn one or another just who exactly Clark was. And you wouldn’t be there to catch her when she fell. She was on her own.

            But you were surprised to hear her return. After your very public fight, you thought surely she wouldn’t return tonight. You clearly didn’t want her there, & yet she did the exact opposite. Her defiance was getting under your skin, but you would no longer waste any more energy on her. Ariana Rowe was just another stranger to you from then on.

            You were lying on the lounger in the corner of your room that overlooked the city, a facial mask on your face as you listened to Ari’s footfalls grow closer to the hall. You had expected her to continue on past your bedroom down the hallway to her own, but were surprised yet again when three gentle knocks sounded on your door.

            It didn’t matter though. You had nothing more to say & didn’t care to hear whatever she wanted to say either.

            “_____, I know you’re in there.” Her voice was shaky, as if she had been crying.

            That gave you little concern, but not nearly enough to get up & open the door to face her. She could talk to the wood for all you cared.

            “You were right…”

            At that you sat forward, staring at your door with subtle wide eyes.

            “Clark, he, uh, he…” She sniffled, a soft thud sounded against your door & you imaged she was resting against it, “He admitted what he did.”

            You were standing at this point, speed-walking to your door & thrusting it open. Ari was standing before you in the same outfit she had been wearing earlier that day at the library. Her eyes, filled with shame, met yours. The little eye-makeup she wore had been smeared & her nose was tinted red from all the crying she had likely done.

            “I’m so sorry. For not believing you, for bringing him around. I just thought—I thought you were trying to sabotage our relationship.”

            You said nothing but continued to stare at her.

            “So, he’s gone.” She sighed, shaking her head in disbelief, “For good. You won’t be seeing him anymore.”

            That fact alone left you feeling, surprisingly, conflicted. But you shook away the feelings.

            Ari’s eyes fluttered as more tears threatened to fall. She eyed you apologetically, “Please, say something…”

            But as you stared at her unfeelingly, you could think of nothing that would bring her comfort. You absolutely did not forgive her. If Clark hadn’t admitted to what he did then she would still be with him, choosing to believe you were a liar. That was not someone you wanted in your life.

            Looking Ari dead in her eyes, you spoke with a sharp coldness, “I told you to not come crying to me.”

            Her face fell further at that.

            “I meant it.”

            With that, you closed the door on her face & locked it, reaffirming to Ari that she would be back in your good graces anytime soon.

            Then you returned to your lounger & lied back down, staring out of the window.

            As relieved as you were that Ari knew now who Clark was & he wouldn’t be coming around, you still felt like something was off. Clark was up to something. That much you knew, why else would he willingly admit to what he did when he clearly had Ari’s trust over you?

            Now, it was just a matter of finding out just what exactly he was up to.

            And a part of you knew you would find out very, very soon.

part four.

sorry for the later update. been crazy busy with work & work a lot of late nights.

as always, please share your thoughts with me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @rosecentury

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

[cow-boy-caviar]

TENDER IS THE FLESH by AGUSTINA BAZTERRICA, translated by SARAH MOSES

This book is horrifying. It is grotesque; it is awesome in the biblical sense; it is the closest I’ve come to committing to veganism; it is the most realistic modern Pygmalion. There’s lots to unpack here.

Due to a virus that made animal meat deadly to consume, cannibalism is now legal, as in, agri-business now deals in human meat rather than cattle (although it’s illegal to call it “human meat,” it’s special meat). Our protagonist (not our hero), Marcos, runs a meat processing plant. He’s old enough to remember life before the Transition to eating humans, he sees the horror in what the world has become, but he can’t break out of the inertia that carries him along in this new world. He hates it, he certainly does, but in the way that all middle managers nominally hate their jobs. He won’t be breaking the mold any time soon, even though he knows the mold could break him if he slips up.

Everyone, from butchers and game hunters who directly profit off of it, to the youngest of children, to the aged and dying, live in a world that is so viscerally cruel and terrifying that it’s hard to imagine how they can sleep at night. But then I remember every single year the U.S. has existed, and how those atrocities barely register in the average American’s daily life, even when the atrocities are ongoing, and it makes too much sense. I know that this fictional world could so easily become real, not because I think there are a bunch of people gunning for The Most Dangerous Game, but because billionaire processed food companies could lobby for the case of anything, as long as they come out on top. Special Meat isn’t as far off as I want it to be, and I think most Americans are more susceptible to a silent slide into a new horrifying norm than their sense of individuality would have them believe.

At the halfway point of this novel, we get yet another angle: Marcos impregnates the “female” he was given as a gift. If he’s found to have “enjoyed” this “female” (and god do all the in-universe euphemisms make everything worse), she and the child will both be killed and sold at a devalued price. Marcos will suffer the same fate as his punishment if he’s caught. Remarkably, he’s careful. Remarkably, he isn’t caught. Remarkably, in a twist on the sexually-mature-yet-infantile, built-for-your-whims, born-sexy-yesterday trope, Marcos’ care for the woman (whom he dubs “Jasmine”) is not out of love or any sort of connection to her. He does not want to save her, or start a revolution, or even run away with her to a life of isolated bliss. He just wants the baby she’s carrying — maybe then he’ll finally heal after losing his own infant son not long before the book begins.

In this adaptation of the Pygmalion myth, the creation of Galatea isn’t the woman, but the child she bears. Marcos discards Jasmine immediately after she gives birth and provides him with everything he has been dreaming of: a son, a reunion with his estranged wife Cecilia, a family that is whole. He’s deluded himself, and the reader, into thinking he’s not like other omnivores. If he tried at all, he could have empathy, and we’d be reading a very different horror novel. Instead, he’s a very realistic manager of an agricultural business, who just wants what he wants and damn the moralizing. He’s every person who thinks they would have acted a certain way during the Civil Rights movement but can’t call out a coworker for saying sus shit about trans people. From the outside, it’s so easy to identify everything wrong with how Marcos and his world operates. From the inside, what horrible realities do we need to question (and change) in our own worlds?

[thetaekookcloset]

Sharing Links I’ve Received

Ever since Memories 2021 content has been slowly coming out, I’ve received so many links from people to various clips of moments.  If I were to post every single ask that’s either just a link or a link with a brief comment, I would have a ton of individual short posts in a row just sharing links.

Therefore, I’ve decided to compile them here in one post, so anyone who’s interested can check out these moments that people have wanted to share.  If you sent a link with a comment, I’ll include what you had to say about it along with the direct link to the URL you provided.

1.  This is actually a famous person's trend in Japan. Especially the one Jungkook doing with his mouth and all  It shows they both share/consume same things. They are either married or closest bffs.

This moment is so cute!  I didn’t know this was a trend, but it does seem like Taehyung and Jungkook watch a lot of the same things and look at what the other is doing on their phones a lot, so I agree, this could definitely be an indication of that kind of closeness.

2.  the fact that tae breaks character with jungkook is so cute 😭

Oh my goodness, yes, I definitely agree!  I love so many things about this tiny interaction.  I love how Jungkook never looks away from Tae’s face to watch what he’s doing with his hand.  I love how he starts to smile when Taehyung starts to smile, rather than in direct response to his goofing around.  I love how his grin gets so big, and I love how, as soon as he’s finished, Tae sort of folds forward toward Jungkook, laughing at himself.  It’s such a familiar gesture.  Of course it gets cut off right at that moment lol.

3.  Re this adorableness - I cannot stop thinking about how this is the same trip (at least I think so) where they went to that restaurant together and shared the bathroom mirror selfies ❤️

Yes I believe this moment comes from the same day as their Atomix bathroom mirror selfies!  I love this clip so much.  It’s barely even an interaction really, but it’s just the way they meet each other’s eyes and smile like that.  Heart-melting.

4.  Jungkook at the back 😂😂

Oh my god hahaha, the way he just pops right up to watch!  And then he starts dancing along, I love it.  I wonder sometimes, if Taekook really are together, if they dance together at home.  They’re so in sync when they dance sometimes that I really think they might.

5.  Did you see this? It's so cute and soft 🥺

Yes, wow, I love this one so much!  I saw this at like 5 AM and then fell back to sleep, and when I woke up again I genuinely thought I might have dreamed this moment.  But it’s realllll.

I could see people maybe arguing that this is nothing, maybe just Jungkook messing with Taehyung, but he does it so casually and then just wanders off after, without getting or waiting for a reaction, that it really does seem to me like he’s just being protective and not wanting Tae to hurt himself.  Another good example of the proprietary nature of their relationship too.  He doesn’t suggest that Tae shouldn’t be sitting like that, he just physically stops him from doing it.

6.  This is just so boyfriend. I don't know how else to describe it

Ooh, yes, yet another good example of how entitled they feel to each other’s bodies lol.  Taehyung sees, he wants, he gets.  Actually there are a lot of instances of just that phenomenon when it comes to Taehyung wanting something and Jungkook getting/giving it to him.

Someone else sent an ask about this moment too, asking what I think it’s about because even Jungkook seems confused by it.  Yeah it seems to me like Taehyung just wanted to look at him lol.  Playfully, sure, but it seems that simple to me.  And yes, Jungkook just goes along with it, even though it comes out of nowhere.  I think this anon might have the right of it: it’s just so boyfriend.

7. link presented without comment from anon

I don’t really know if this anon had anything in particular that they thought I would take away from this, but I think it’s really funny, and cute.  Especially Namjoon saying that his forehead is always open for kisses.  I love it.  I also love how funny Jungkook thinks the idea of Tae kissing Hobi is lol.

8.  From when did Tae start wearing this type of pants? I have seen jk wearing it so many times but tae nope. JK also has one in olive.

Oh my gosh, you’re right.  I hadn’t seen this clip yet, and I would have thought the same thing as the OP: it literally does look like Tae walked right out of Jungkook’s closet.  I’ve never seen him wear pants like that, I don’t think ever.  Interesting!

9.  Hehe 🙃

So cute!  It’s Taehyung’s huge smile at the end for me.

10.  They really are kids betting and all. A serious question - Who won? I think Jungkook coz I didn't see him on screen.

Ahhhh cute, especially the very end when Taehyung is leaning on Jungkook’s shoulder as they walk away, and you can hear JK sort of giggle.  I love it.  As for the bet, I think based on the terms, technically Tae won?  It seemed like JK was betting that they wouldn’t be visible, and Tae was betting that they would.  You can see Tae for a second in the tight cut, so technically he was right, though really they were each right about themselves.

Okay, that’s me officially caught up on links people have shared since about yesterday afternoon or evening!  Thank you all for making sure that I’m seeing all the best new moments, you’re the best!

I might keep this up if I get more links, because I think sharing them this way makes more sense than posting each one individually, but just so you know, I’m visiting friends this weekend and will likely fall a bit behind on asks.

In the meantime, I just hope we’re all able to enjoy this new content!  Thanks again, everyone, for sharing some great new moments and your thoughts!

[creativeashproductions]

Back to the 118 // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Buck meets the firefighter he replaced as the reader transfers back to the 118. The reader never expected to fall for a co-worker the first day back at the 118 after two years spent at the 155 in Los Feliz.

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, hospitals, health issues, pregnancy, angst and a shit ton of fluff

Words: 5.9k

A/N: So this is obviously a modern au for jatp to fit in the 911 universe. To make this work, Buck replaced Reader instead of Tommy after many failed probies. Eddie then later replaced Tommy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Your e/c eyes scanned the outward appearance of the first firehouse you’d worked at fresh out of the Academy. The place that had become a second home from the increased tension-filled house your parents still lived in. A place you had escaped as quickly as you could for a dream career. A career your parents hadn’t been proud of in the beginning, with the danger that came with being a firefighter paramedic.

“You the new recruit?”

Your eyes fell from the building to the male individual standing near the open bay the engine and ladder truck both used. The male in question must have joined the 118 after you transferred to the 155. The stranger towered at least six feet minimum with blue eyes and short blonde hair with the slightest wave.

“No-”

“Flint!” The excited voice of the only other female paramedic called out. You only saw dark navy before you were pretty much tackled.

Hen and Chimney had equally taken you under their wings when you initially joined as a rookie. You’d been the second female firefighter-paramedic at the 118 and the youngest by far. As if you’d summoned him, you felt the arms of Chimney sandwich you against Hen.

“Flint?” The stranger parroted, blinking his eyes at the rather unusual scene of Chimney and Hen wrapped around an unknown girl.

“What are you doing here?” Chimney questioned, stepping back. Hen scoured your entire form for any differences that had occurred.

“Y/N decided to come home,” Bobby spoke from a few feet behind the reunion with the beaming smile on his features. His lips pulled into a smile directed at the first recruit he’d taken on his first year at the 118.

“Bobby!” You grinned, meeting the father figure in the middle of the distance between you two. Bobby wrapped you up in his arms tightly, a certain lightness cocooning the Captain as he took in his friends.

“You’re back here?”

“Everything is squared back at home now, thankfully, and while I loved working with the 155, it wasn’t home. This will always be home.”

“Buck, this is Y/N Patterson. She worked her first two years with the 118 before transferring to the 155 in Los Feliz. Y/N, this is one of our newest members, Evan Buckley.” Bobby gestured towards the previously nameless firefighter.

“Who would leave the 118?” Buck questioned, unable to come up with a valid reason to leave the family at 118.

Buck’s opinion didn’t stand with his only workplace after successfully becoming a firefighter solely was the 118. Never had he worked in another firehouse. He’d been a fire marshall and volunteered his time in the Austin wildfire, but he always came home to the 118.

“Family issues.”

2018, Firehouse 118, Los Angeles

A fresh-faced, albeit dirty from sweat and soot, jumped down from the engine truck’s high steps. The synchronized slam of doors sounded from your colleagues and friends Hen and Chimney. All three individuals famished for the casserole Bobby had premade during the slow morning.

“Baked Mac n’ Cheese.” Tommy breathed from his position by the driver side. Tommy Kinard was a stoic man towering over six feet. He was always a gentle giant after you’d bonded after a hard call.

“Clean up, and I’ll have it in the oven. It’s Chimney’s time to make the salad and Flint’s turn to set the table.” Bobby spoke with barely a glance to the ground ahead of him. 

Your Captain jogged towards the stairs, whereas his team made their way to the locker rooms for a well-deserved shower. You and Hen split away from Tommy and Chimney to the women’s locker room that had gotten an upgrade.

Well, before you joined the Academy, the locker room had been used as a glorified game room, all thanks to the misogynist Captain from hell. Hen often had over the years mentioned how lucky you got with Bobby being your first Captain.

“Chimney better not put those onions like he did last time.” You spoke from under the stream of warm water. Nothing beat the warmth of a shower near the end of your shift erasing the evidence of your job.

“Man needs to learn the complimentary salad to the main dish.” Hen piped up from across the shower room.

You and Hen had both showered and redressed in a fresh uniform in under five minutes, the dirty one placed in a laundry bag. You’d managed to beat the boys to the upstairs by a few seconds. Enough to set half of the able before Chimney began to making his salad of choice.

“Looks great, Cap.” Tommy complimented the gooey homemade pasta Bobby religious made every third Thursday. He alternated between pasta recipes with the odd new recipe every once in a while.

“What are you waiting for? The bell?” Bobby quipped to the unmoving bunch of hungry individuals. His words started the boisterous meal time preceding the end of shift.

“So, we’re halfway through dinner and Amber-” Your phone interrupted the disaster date Tommy had begun telling. He continued as soon as you waved him to go ahead while you took the call.

“Hello?” You breathed into the phone.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The warmth infused in your mom’s voice soothed the ruffled feathers from the call you’d come back from, “How are you?”

“I’m good! We just finished eating. My shift is almost over, and I’ll have to go straight to the store for groceries-”

“Y/N, we found him.”

The him was easy to figure out given your brother had run away from home three months prior with only his dreams in mind. You’d spent most of your off time, sometimes even during shift out on a call, to scan the environment for Luke. You became a regular in questioning hospitals and homeless shelters.

“Where was he?”

“His band had been about to play at some big venue last night.” Mom’s word choice concerned you. Her voice dripped with sadness instead of the typical disappointment and annoyance on anything to do with Sunset Curve.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“A few nights ago, the boys got hotdogs-”

“Streetdogs.” You interrupted with evident anger in your tone at the mention of those death dogs Luke consumed. You can’t even give a number to how many times you had told him how unsanitary and dangerous the food is.

“Something was wrong with the food. They got ill fast. Alex and Reggie are being kept for observation but will be found with a few days of rest.”

“What about Luke?”

“He tried to call 911; he was weak and fell. Y/N, he hit his head. He’s in the ICU in a coma.” Emily Patterson’s voice cracked as soon as she acknowledged the current state of her youngest child.

The colours of the world dulled as soon as your mind clicked that Luke was in the hospital. Your little brother had put himself in danger all because he had a big dream. Your mind flashed through your life growing up with him.

You remembered talking to your mom’s growing bump when she was pregnant with Luke. You remembered five-year-old Luke unable to settle unless you sang to him. Your voice was nothing special, but it soothed the little boy when he had a nightmare. You could vividly recall teaching Luke how to play the guitar when he was thirteen; the brunette a complete natural at it.

“What’s his prognosis?”

“Too early to tell. The doctor is hoping Luke will be in a general room after tomorrow if the swelling goes down. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

“How’s Dad?”

Emily hesitated from her position by a hospital bed. Her brown eyes carefully scanning the male sleeping soundly in the bed.

“Mom?”

“Your father had a heart attack last night. That’s why I haven’t been able to tell you sooner. He’s currently sleeping, but he’ll have a barrage of tests later today-”

“I’ll be there as soon as my shif-”

“No. Don’t drop anything. I can keep you up.”

“Excuse my language, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from my family. I’ll take a few days off. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Your thumb tapped the red circle on the bottom of your screen.

The 118 didn’t bother pretending they hadn’t been watching your form during your phone call. Bobby felt like something had drastically changed in a few minutes you’d been busy on the phone.

“Everything okay?” Bobby inquired from his position at the kitchen sink. His hands in the sudsy water to scrub the empty pan.

“My brother and my father are in hospital. I’m gonna need some days off.” You informed your boss with a look of utter defeat coating your expression.

Those few days transitioned to transferring to the closest firehouse to your childhood home and the hospital. The medical bills from both your brother and father had begun to overwhelm your mother with the current single source of income. Emily didn’t ask you for anything, but you started renting the home you’d bought for extra money.

It was a silent agreement that you paid rent as a cover to helping with the bills piling up.

Present Day, Firehouse 118

Buck followed behind the welcoming group to the girl that seemed larger than life. Buck was impressed by the sacrifice you’d made for the good of your family. You’d willingly given up the family of the 118. Buck didn’t know if he could do the same.

“Welcome back.” Hen cheered on her guidance to the heaven everyone called the kitchen. Your department issue duffle bag dropped out of the wall on the top level.

Your eyes zeroed in on the spread of your favourite foods prepared by the only person aware of your return. It was only one look of gratitude towards the father figure before everyone dug in.

A few changes had occurred since you’d last sat at this table. Tommy Kinard had left the 118 for the 217 shortly after your departure. He’d been replaced by the ready to impress Buck. One thing that hadn’t changed was the delicious food Bobby made.

Your eyes found the sole empty chair at the long table, “Didn’t you say the house took on two new recruits since I left?”

“Buck took your position when you left. We had a revolving door of firefighters before Buck permanently joined.” Chimney supplied with a mouth full of lettuce and grated carrot. Hen whacked his arm for his lack of manners.

“You’ll meet Eddie on the next shift. He took the day off. It’s his son’s first birthday since his mom died.” Bobby informed you with that pinched wrinkle between his eyebrows, “He joined after Tommy left.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet the entire team.” You replied, looking past to the circular table behind Bobby’s spot. Sam and Ryan both waved happily upon catching sight of you back at your unspoken seat.

You listened intently as Hen shared the changes Denny had gone through in the time you’d been away. Chimney was ecstatic to point out the faint scar on his forehead.

“You had rebar go through your skull, and you’re completely fine?” You questioned, floored by the pure luck Chimney had.

“Oh, it was nasty. Went in from the back of the skull to the front.” Buck spoke enthusiastically, recounting the scene. Chimney deadpanned a look at his younger coworker, “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s like you never had it happen.”

“Doc was shocked at how positive the outcome and healing was. I was back at work within a month on light duty. I beat my record getting in my turnout gear.” 

“And yet my little brother was comatose for two months.” You grumbled under your breath. None of the people could make out the words, but the grimace on your face was enough to show them it was personal.

In true 118 fashion, the bell rang throughout the firehouse with the disembodied voice declaring the type and location. Yoru e/c eyes found Buck climbing into the driver’s seat where Tommy had once commandeered. It was odd not having the man who’d became an older brother to you.

“How’re your parents?” Hen questioned, sitting diagonally from you. Her fingers repositioning the radio on her chest.

“Dad’s recovering pretty good. Mom’s started attending her knitting club again.” 

Buck’s eyes raised to the rearview mirror to meet yours in interest, “What happened?”

“Uh...my dad had a heart attack a couple years ago. He took a long time to recover with the further stress that caused it.” You piped up, understanding the news would come out at some point, “My little brother was in an accident that left him in a coma. Life was just as messy after he woke up.”

“He’s okay?” Chimney questioned, “I know we’ve never met them, but it really gutted you.”

“Well, physically, he’s fine, but emotionally he’s upset. He was in a band, and when he came out of the coma, he found out some devastating news.” You continued to explain, but unfortunately, or maybe, fortunately, you’d come to the scene.

It was a little known place most teenagers discovered as a hang out spot just on the edge between your county and the next. The location was the infamous spot of cliff jumping; you knew because this was something you’d recklessly done in high school.

“He’s over here!” A blonde male of average height called from the edge of the cliff. His blue eyes were bright even from this distance, matching the detailing on his swim trunks.

Surrounding the edge with the boy was a group of teenagers his age, all in different versions of swimsuits. You found the scared brown eyes of a beautiful girl you vaguely knew from the few shows of Sunset Curve you had watched. Her dark blonde hair plaited out of her face. Her face clicked as Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s sister or cousin.

You jogged towards the edge of the cliff to look over. It was easily between fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the cliff to the water. You recognized Hen crouching by your side, looking at what you were looking at.

On the rocks was a prone body of a teenage male with bruises already forming on his face from where you could see. His thick shoulder-length hair laid still half in the ponytail and around his head.

“Head trauma.” You murmured to Hen, scanning from a distance, “I can’t tell much from this height and angle.”

“Either a broken tibia or fibula. Spinal injury is definitely a concern.”

“Okay, his name is Willie Young. He’s eighteen years old. His sister Kayla was dared to jump off by doing some kind of flip. Willie took her dare and didn’t jump far enough or tripped over a rock.” Bobby listed having been talking with the group of teenagers all shook up.

“I can rappel-” Buck began to speak before you cut him off firmly.

“It would take too long, and the angle is difficult. Nobody rappels down it; the cliff isn’t stable enough. It crumbles pretty easy, and the unofficial name of this cliff is Devil’s Dive.” Your eyes found Carrie’s tear-filled once and the utter devastation in who you pegged as Kayla.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve jumped off this cliff for years as a teenager. You’re looking at the resident champion of self reckless endangerment at Devil’s Dive.” 

Hen, Chimney and Bobby each stared, shocked at your revelation of stupid teenager decisions.

“Then how are we gonna get down there,” Buck questioned, staring at the unconscious teenager lying on the rocks.

“Easy, I can jump from here into the water and climb onto the rocks to where Willie is. I have the experience of how and where to jump safely.” You spoke to your Captain with complete confidence in your abilities, “You can lower down the kit, radio and backboard by a rope. There’s a mansion beyond the trees that you can ask to borrow a boat from the owner. He’s eccentric and questionable but nice enough.”

Bobby nodded his head to your plan. You unbuttoned your uniform shirt to strip down to the department t-shirt with the emblem on your chest and across your back. You kept the boots and emptied your pockets of anything. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the height of the cliff you hadn’t jumped from in years.

“I’ll jump where-”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed at Buck’s assumption he could follow you.

“You’ll need another pair of hands to roll him on the backboard. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. This is kinda what I do. Bobby cleared it already.” Buck shrugged with a half-smirk on his handsome face.

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly gave Buck a rundown on how to jump correctly before you tossed yourself off the cliff. The cold water momentarily shocked your system as soon you submerged under the water. You swam to the surface before swimming towards the rocks. Willie hadn’t moved an inch.

“Whoa! That was so cool!” Buck cheered once he’d appeared on the surface of the water, “No wonder you used to do that!” 

His excitement both annoyed and amused you, “Eh. I was just an idiot kid who thought they were invincible.”

The two firefighters lifted themselves onto the rock formation, where blood stained the rock. While Buck retrieved the backboard and essentials from the rope, your hands moved across Willie’s body, checking for breaks. You caught the c-collar Buck tossed without looking. You quickly but gently put the collar on Willie.

“Hi, Willie. My name is Y/N, and I’m a paramedic. I’m gonna check you over for injuries.” You informed the teenager closely. You’d only just opened his eyes to flash a light on them, “Buck let Bobby know Willie’s pupils are reactive to light and the same size.”

“Got it!” Buck called out from the open medkit, “I’ll splint his leg.”

“W-what happened?” Willie wheezed sluggishly. His brown eyes were unfocused.

“You got hurt trying to jump off the cliff. You’re in good hands, Willie. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my coworker Buck.”

“Kayla?”

“Perfectly safe, but you did give her a scare. Willie, can you feel this?” Buck questioned, gently touching his right foot. Buck and you both gave a sigh of relief as Willie confirmed he felt it.

 “Okay, we’re gonna roll you on to the backboard. On three: one, two, three.” You counted before rolling Willie on his side with Buck. Willie’s cry echoed around the surrounding as you settled him on the board.

“Need a ride?” Chimney asked as a very nice boat floated towards the three people on the rocks. Hen and Bobby helped load Willie onto the boat, “Mr. Covington agreed to let us use the boat if we don’t get blood on the seats.”

“Can you call my boyfriend?” Willie sluggishly asked when he was loaded into the ambulance on the cliff. Kayla sliding into the seat in the back of the ambulance with their items.

“Alex is meeting us at the hospital.” Kayla told her older brother, “You absolute idiot! You should have just let me jump!”

“And let you be in the back of the ambulance? Dad would kill me if I had let you do it.” Willie scoffed. Their conversation was silent as Chimney and Buck closed the back doors of the ambulance.

Bobby, Buck and you climbed into the fire truck to follow the ambulance to the closest hospital. Hen and Chimney rolled the gurney to the doors with Kayla hot on their heels. You’d just turned to head back to the truck when you saw three teens loitering near the entrance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, marching away from Bobby and Buck to the teen who was supposed to be in class.

Luke had been forced into private tutoring to catch up to his friends in his grades, meaning every afternoon. The watch on your wrist confirmed Luke was definitely supposed to be with his tutor at the community centre.

“Luke!” You shouted, stomping right up to the wide-eyed teen.

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his older intimidating sister caught him like his hand was in the cookie jar. You didn’t give Reggie or Alex a second look while you gripped Luke’s ear to tug him away.

“Ow!” Luke whined from the angle you dragged him at.

“What the hell are you doing across the city? You’re supposed to be in your session that our parents are paying a great deal for.” You snapped, crossing your arms in your wet t-shirt.

“We need every chance we can to-”

“Make it big in the industry.” You parroted the past discussions on Luke’s dream as a band, “Do you remember how I got mom and dad off your back? An agreement that you finish high school on time. Not dropping out.”

“So many musicians have dropped out! Green Day’s frontman dropped out his senior year to focus on the band. Several others like Elton John and Kurt Cobain!” Luke enthused, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.

“Luke.” You warned, “It’s either catch by with a tutor with some time dedicated to your band, or it’s a military school.”

Luke’s hazel eyes minimally widened, “They would-”

Your stoic expression stayed the same as the energetic seventeen-year-old bounced in his spot across from you. 

“There’s only so much I can do before you lose everything. I know you feel anxious after what all happened, but music isn’t going anywhere.” You reached to squeeze Luke’s hand in yours, “So, I’ll clear it with my boss to have you ride the bus to the station. You’ll have your tutor sessions with my supervision, so I know you’re attending.”

“Y/N!” Bobby called from next to the firetruck, “We gotta go.”

“I’m guessing the Alex that Willie is dating your best friend?” You questioned with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in response, “Let mom know you had to be there for Alex. She’ll let skipping your session go this once.”

“Thanks!” Luke chimed, lunging to hug you. Your mouth barely opened before he was racing towards a jittery Alex and a grinning Reggie.

Reggie lifted his arm to wave with his flushed cheeks a darker red colour. You found Reggie’s crush on you to be absolutely adorable. He was a friendly kid.

“He looks good for a kid who was in a coma not long ago.” Hen breathed as the teenager entered the ER with his best friends beside him.

“Oh, he healed quickly. He was crushed after he fully recovered from his head injury.”

“That was your brother?” Buck inquired, and he was just as focused on your features as he had since he first met you. 

“Yeah! He was in a coma for ten months when he was sixteen. He’s spent the last two years catching on on school to graduate with his friends. Well hopefully. He’s dead set on dropping out.” You heavily sighed, leaning your temple on the glass window, “He was supposed to be at a tutoring session. I’ll be chaperoning to make sure he goes.”

“If you need to have them at the station, send me a schedule, and I’ll make it work. Luke’s just as much family as you are.”

The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as Buck followed you around with the sole purpose of getting to know you. The friendship came naturally to the two of you. He didn’t hold back with you like he did with others. Fridays off became hangouts that varied from just Buck and you to spend it with Eddie and Christopher.

Everyone could see Buck had developed feelings for you and vice versa. Unlike the man Buck used to be, he was cautious. He wanted to do this right. And Buck did. With the help of Christopher, he asked you out.

Months Later

Buck’s eyes fluttered open in the dim lighting of your new home’s bedroom he often found himself in. Before, you had alternated staying at his apartment or yours before a significant change happened. Luke moved in to finish his senior year with the help of your tutoring, as agreed with your parents. That led to you giving up your former home, the one that coincidentally Buck’s sister Maddie had rented from you.

“Luke! You better be awake!” Your voice came from the main floor of the home. Your voice alone seduced the firefight to leave the warm sheets.

His bare feet pattered down the hardwood floor stairs into the kitchen coated in all different kinds of breakfast food. Waffles to imported maple syrup to bacon spread across the counter.

“Morning,” Buck grumbled, stepping up behind you to tug you against his chest.

Unlike Buck’s softer footsteps, your little brother tore down the stairs like a stampede of elephants. Luke wore a vintage band shirt modified sleeveless; you’d be getting a voicemail about dress code violations. The chains hanging off his black jeans.

“You have to hurry, Lu. Buck and I can’t be late. He needs to get to his apart-”

“I don’t see why he doesn’t just move in. He’s here almost every night. He helps buy groceries.” Luke’s hazel eyes stared at the plate he towered food on.

Buck raised one eyebrow in response, “You just moved in. You should be settled before we make-”

“Dude. Your lease is up in like a month; just move in already. No feathers will be ruffled. Besides, the band’s taking off now that Nick got his dad Ryan to check our music out.” Luke sprouted with a beaming smile at the good news his new band received.

After Luke had recovered from that coma, he’d woken up in a world where Alex, Reggie and Bobby, no Trevor, now continued the band. Then when Alex and Reggie couldn’t go on, the rhythm guitarist betrayed Luke. He stole every song he could get his hands on and proved successful.

“Ryan Evans, right? His sister’s some bigshot on Broadway? Sharpay, right?” You questioned recalling in the early 2000s the success of Sharpay and Ryan in some kind of Disney films based on them.

“You’re about to be the sister and brother-in-law of a certified rockstar.” Luke’s attempt at smirking made him look like a chipmunk with full cheeks of food, “I don’t need a ride. Alex’s picking me up.”

“Straight to school, Luke. You’ve got two weeks left before you can leave that behind.” Buck pointed his coffee cup in the direction of the passionate musician. Luke returned a smile of acknowledgement.

The kitchen was quiet as Luke shoved as much food in his mouth in such little time while you watched. In a flash, he’d stuck his dishes in the dishwasher before sprinting out to the van beeping continuously.

“Think we can have you moved in by tomorrow? Your one-bedroom place will be a little cramped for five people.” You simply spoke as you rinsed your coffee cup out. You could hear the wheels in Buck’s brain turning as he thought.

“Five people?”

“Yeah. Luke, Albert, me, you and baby Buckley.”

The entire home went completely still as the announcement bled into the house you’d made a home. One hand resting against the smoothness of your belly. That hand covered by the calloused one of Buck’s. His blue eyes gleaming in utter adoration and excitement.

“Baby Buckley?” Buck marvelled, turning you to face him with tears running down your cheeks, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am. I guess we’re giving Maddie’s daughter a cousin.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now I’m obligated to see your parents regularly, and I still grimace at the first introduction.” Buck winced, recalling the foot in mouth syndrome he’d developed.

Buck had never been as nervous as in this moment. Not when he had to tell his parents the first time he got kicked out of college. Or when his teenage self sat beside one of his flings waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Not even on his first date with Abby. 

“You’ll be fine.” You soothed the anxious man standing by your side on the doorstep of your childhood home. The door opened, revealing Luke standing with a grimace, “Oh Mom, made you wear that.”

Luke had been stuffed into one of the only long-sleeved shirts he owned by your mother. It was a magenta maroon hued corduroy shirt and set off his chocolate hair perfectly. Apparently, your mother hadn’t been able to get him into a pair of pants that weren’t skinny, black or ripped.

“We’re meeting your boyfriend, not the damn Pope-”

“You wouldn’t be wearing that if the Pope was involved.” You retorted, stepping to tug the younger Patterson into your arms. The only thing you adored about your little brother was he never denied a hug. Physical touch is his love language, so he never went through a phase.

“Lucas, don’t let them freeze on the front porch!” Emily shouted from within the Patterson home. Luke rolled his eyes at his mother’s request.

“Luke, this is my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. Buck, this is my not so little brother Luke.” You swiftly introduced the most important males in your life.

Luke and Buck got along better than any previous partner you’d brought home. He got along with your parents really well. Even when he slightly embarrassed himself as the time came to go home, whether it was his place or yours. He kissed your mother’s cheek and shook hands with your father.

“No offence, but thank you for having a heart attack and a coma. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I would have never met Y/N.”

Luke snickered at Buck’s odd choice of words, as did your parents. A part of Buck dreaded the next time he’d see your parents.

The gentle press of lips against your cheek pulled you from your thoughts of the first family dinner. Despite the issues between Luke and your parents, they were great people and parents; Buck had felt like he finally fit in. Even with that awkward thankful he gave your brother and dad, he was family the minute Mitch and Emily saw the mutual looks.

“How are we gonna do this?”

“Well, as the pregnant one, I’ll carry the little Bean until it’s time for them to enter the world. Then we’ll-”

“I get that but with our jobs?”

You felt guilty at the dread of not getting to do what you love, but you were excited, “I’ll keep working as a paramedic. I’ll stay away from fires, and then I’ll go on mat leave. We’ll make this work, Buck.” 

Buck leaned down to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, envisioning how life was about to change. Buck adored children. He had loved Christopher from the moment he’d first met him. Buck himself was a kid at heart. 

“I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but you continue to surprise me each time,” Buck murmured with that gorgeous smile that utterly melted your heart from the first time you saw it. Back when you tried to deny any feelings beyond friendship.

“We’re so lucky to have you, Evan Buckley.” You breathed as you leaned up to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Although it was mostly clashing of teeth with the matching wide grins on your face.

“This little girl is gonna be a heartbreaker but no boyfriends or girlfriends until they’re thirty.” Buck declared, tugging you into his arms. His blue eyes twinkling in the natural lighting.

“It could be a boy.”

“Or maybe neither. Boy, girl or non-binary, I’ll love them just as much.” Buck spoke once more.

Gideon Buckley was born in the early morning to the pride of his parents and extended family. He was a healthy solid 8 pounds with sparse dark blonde hair and the trademark grey-blue newborn eyes. You everyone but Buck and your surprise Gideon wasn’t alone. Grace Buckley followed her older twin brother eight minutes later.

You rested against the propped up pillows spent from the exhausting hours of labour, but it was worth it. The two tiny babies snuggled beneath the swaddling blanket concealing your bare chest. Skin to skin contact was absolutely the best part of being a parent.

“Did you steal a baby?” Chim joked upon entering the hospital room with Maddie in tow. Right behind them were your parents and Luke.

“I’d like you to meet our twins Gideon and Grace Buckley. Surprise!” Buck quietly cheered in the nearly silent room. Buck’s curated newly parents playlist gently playing in the background.

Mitch and Emily came closer to look at the little loves they proudly got to claim as their first grandchildren. Emily’s heart melted upon hearing Gracie coo in her sleep. Grace and Gideon’s fist pressed against each other.

“Congratulations.” Maddie breathed, bending to catch a peek at the twins’ faces.

“Luke. Would you like to meet your goddaughter and godson?” You questioned the nervous musician. The nineteen-year-old tiptoed his way to the hospital bed.

“I’m both their godfather?” Luke choked as soon as Buck gently transferred Gideon onto his uncle’s chest. 

“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose to help guide them in the right direction. You always found your way back onto the right path. You’ll do the same for them.” Buck answered with Gracie nestled on his chest.

 Buck was the first to hold them followed by you and then their godfather Luke.

Gid and Gracie, although unseen, had been in Luke’s graduation pictures and watched as Julie and the Phantoms signed with a record label. Where Gid was, Luke wasn’t far beyond; the special bond melted everyone. Likewise with Gracie and Alex.

Gid overall was a happy baby compared to Grace. Loved visiting the firehouse. Loved the people working with their father and previously their mother. For the entire first year of Gideon and Grace’s life, you stayed at home with the utter support of Buck.

“First day back.” Hen spoke from beside you on the bench in the women’s change room. As a fellow mother, she’d been watching your behaviour.

“I miss them. I feel guilty that I abandoned them-”

“Okay, your feelings are valid, but you aren’t abandoning Gideon or Grace. You’re teaching them that you can be a great mom while also being a badass firefighter. I was the same when I went back to work after we got Denny.”

“Do you ever wish you could be a stay at home mom?”

“I love Denny with my entire heart, but I couldn’t do that. I was meant to be a paramedic firefighter as much as Denny’s mother. Besides, I can see Maddie pushing in the double stroller.”

Your head snapped to see your sister in law beaming with the double stroller carrying Gideon and Grace. Maddie’s daughter sitting on the seat made for a toddler. Maddie and Chimney had come to a decision for Maddie to work part-time.

Hen watched as you bounded out of the changeroom in uniform to scoop the twins into your arms. In a split second, Buck was down the stairs cooing at the absolute loves of his life. His partner and two children.

Buck would forever be grateful for finding his way to the 118, where he found his true family. A place of acceptance, love, trust and loyalty. Buck found his place in the world, and that was beside you.

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[justwritedreams]

You’re not alone | Taeil

Taeil x reader

Word count: 1247 Genre: fluff, a bit angst Author: maari Warnings: mentions of being sad and awful friends. Note: should I say again how I love fluff? I just need a little bit of Taeil content because it's freaking monday and I hate it. Also, to anyone that’s feeling down I hope that this give some kind of relief ❤️ Summary: When you're feeling alone, Taeil come to rescue you.

Saturday is usually the best day of the week for you. You don't work, can sleep late, and spend the day with your boyfriend, Taeil. In fact, the weekend is only good because of him. But today you weren't in the mood. You woke up with a terrible headache, probably because you cried yourself to sleep last night over recent events, and without an ounce of desire to leave the house. For you, today is that day when you just want to spend lying on the couch stuffing yourself with food. You were feeling completely unhappy.

You: "Baby, I'm sorry to let you know at the last minute, can we go out another day?" He was online and didn't take long to respond. Taeil: “Did something happen?”

You were in doubt whether to tell or not, it was a silly reason that wasn't worth worrying for nothing but at the same time you knew you wouldn't be able to hide it from him.

You: “No, I just want to stay home :)”

Taeil visualized it but didn't respond and you threw the phone next to you on the bed, covering your face with your hands when you felt the urge to cry come back. A part of you didn't want to be taken over by sadness, because it wasn't going anywhere and you knew it, but there was the other part that was stronger today. You felt so alone, so upset, it felt like you had no one to turn to, no one who could tell you everything would be okay. This was the moment when you had come closest to giving it all up. A huge feeling of abandonment took over and without realizing it, the tears had already returned and you were crying like a baby. You spent time like that, lying in bed not wanting to change the perspective of your day. "What happened?" you jumped out of bed when you heard Taeil's voice and realized that it wasn't a dream, he was standing in your bedroom doorframe with the key to your apartment in his hand. He had a copy for emergencies and there he was, completely serious. "What are you doing here?" you asked as wiped your face on the sleeve of the sweatshirt you wore. He came over, sitting on your side on the bed and studied your face very well. “I came to check if you were really okay, but I think I already have the answer.” you looked away, feeling guilty. Taeil was serious, in a way he almost never was. "You didn't have to come here, I don't want to bother you." you shrugged your shoulders, the last thing you wanted was to worry him, especially for such silly reasons. "I'm your boyfriend, if I don't worry, who will?" you bit your lip to stop crying. "You're not like that, so I know something happened." "Like that?" you sighed and saw Taeil approaching even more, he brought his hand up to your chin and made you look at him. “You love going out, especially if it's to eat. If you have any unforeseen, you let me know a day before and when I ask if everything is ok, your answer is never vague, you always guarantee that everything is ok. Oh and you never send a boring emoji.” you swallowed hard, as you knew, couldn't hide anything from him. “Your period was two weeks ago so I know your hormones are normal, which should make you more excited and not down. Should I continue?” You shook your head. You pondered, thinking of a way to make it less ridiculous. "I'm just sad." "With what?" “Well, do you remember that I've been a trio of friends since I graduated from high school?” he agreed. “The last few months, I don't know, I think the last 3, they seem kind of distant, you know? Whenever I want to talk or I want to go out, they never can because they are too busy. And I understand that, I swear I understand, I know how work can consume our week but they are always going out together, they even try to hide it when they post on Instagram but I always end up connecting the dots. You know that. So, yesterday, I saw that they went out in a group and didn't even make a point of calling me, in fact none of them even answered me anymore. That's when I realized they're avoiding me, I kept thinking what I did wrong but I can't understand." Taeil hugged you and you just gave in. “I know it's silly, I shouldn't worry with that but I can't stop thinking about it.” “It’s not silly, it's how you feel. It's normal.” "Do you think they're mad that I didn't tell them that I'm dating you?" you asked. Since you met Taeil, you didn't feel like you should share it with your friends. You wanted to avoid mean comments like “how did you get a man like that?” or “he's too much sand for your truck” because you knew they would say that. And mostly, you didn't want any interference in your relationship, because you always had a tendency to do what others said, and this time you wanted to act on your own. "They don't have the right to be angry, there are a lot of things they don't tell you too." well, that was true. Like the time they traveled and you only knew because they posted pictures on all social media. “But then what did I do wrong?” you questioned, more to yourself than to him. "Hey, look at me." he pulled back just enough for you to look at him, still with his arms around you. "You don’t do anything wrong! There's no reason for you to even think about it, you should go on with your life as they are doing." "I know but I just feel so alone..." you admitted and felt your eyes fill with tears again. "No, honey, don't say that." Taeil hugged you tighter this time and you sniffled, trying to control the tears. “You’re not alone, ever! You have me and the boys. Don't you love Haechan and his savage way? Or Johnny's jokes? And Yuta, you love talking to him!” “But is it…” "But not. You’re not alone, you have real friends who care about you. And if these girls want to pretend you don't exist, then you'll do the same.” You smiled weakly, you were still feeling fragile but it was amazing how Taeil manages to make you comfortable even at these times. “Come, get up.” he moved away from you, rising from the bed and reaching out. You looked at him, confused. "I'm not going to let you spend all day lying in this bed suffering and crying." he warned. "Where we going?" "You're going to spend time with your real friends." Taeil smiled, for the first time that day, and you felt contagious. You took his hand and got out of bed. “Hey, thanks.” you said, feeling so much better just being by his side and being able to let off steam. Taeil shook his head and got close enough to kiss you, first on the forehead and then on the lips. You melted in his arms and it felt like he had taken all the sadness away, and indeed he had. "We’re your home, I’m your home. Don't forget that."

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Dulzura

Pairing - Javier Peña x Reader

Summary - Javier surprises you at home early after being gone, and discovers something that you’re a little embarrassed about.  

Word Count - 1.2k

Warnings - Language, and a slightly steamy moment, but that’s it! Pure fluff other than that. <3

At first you thought it was a dream. Since Javi had been gone, there had been many times you had been in the middle of a very satisfying dream, only to wake up and find that it was just that, a dream. So when you felt a large hand settling on your hips for a moment, you thought nothing of it. When that large hand tugged at your oversized shirt though, you started to wake up a bit. When a rough voice whispered in your ear, “what the fuck are you wearing clothes for?” You realized maybe it wasn’t a dream after all. 

You groaned, arching your body into a familiar warm chest. “What the fuck am I wearing clothes for?” Your eyes blinked open, glancing at the alarm clock beside your bed. “It’s four a.m. asshole, and you said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow night.” 

“I managed to sneak away early, and now there’s clothes in my way.” He growled in your ear, tugging at your shirt again. 

“Mhmm . . .” You rolled over on your side to face him, slipping your arms around his neck. “What Secretary did you sweet talk to get that deal?” 

“Murphy,” He replied, gripping your thigh and pushing you on your back so he could slip between your legs. 

When you felt how hot and hard he was between your thighs, you had to bite back a moan. God, you had missed how he felt so much when he was gone. It almost made being woken up at four in the morning worth it. Almost. “It’s so nice when your work husband decides to share -” You broke off with a gasp as Javier rolled his hips into yours. 

“You know hermosa, you’re talking a lot -” You watched as his eyes drifted beside you to where he had placed his hand . . . Right on top of one of your old stuffed animals. “Are you sleeping with a fucking stuffed animal?” 

Heat rushed to your face, and not because of how he felt pressed against you. “Shut up.” 

Javi grabbed up the little teddy bear that was beside you, holding it up while he supported himself on his elbow. “You are,” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Fuck you.” You snapped, shoving at him, which of course did nothing. “You know I hate sleeping by myself, you won’t let me get a dog, and you’re never home -”

“Mujer loca,” he mumbled, tossing the teddy bear aside, a grin on his face as he looked at you. “You can’t even take care of plant, and you want a dog -”

“Of course I’m crazy! I’m with you aren’t I? Puta.” You replied, turning away from him. 

But Javi’s hand found your chin, turning it until you were looking at him and that stupid smirk on his face again. “They teaching you language like that in your Spanish course?” 

Sometimes, it drove you crazy how fucking hot he was with that look on his face. The two of you stared at each other for a couple of moments, you taking the time to study his features, subtly checking for any injuries, and him with his smug smile. Finally, your annoyance was outweighed by the realization that Javi was home, and you weren’t taking advantage of it. “Are you going to take my clothes off or are you going to keep laying there staring -”

He cut you off with a rough kiss, parting his lips and slipping his tongue inside your mouth with expertise that had you melting into the sheets. His kisses always reminded you of how much you missed him while he was away. His warmth, the way he managed to consume your whole self, the ease with which he would bring a smile to your face and the feeling of safeness in your chest. When he pulled away, you frowned, already missing the softness of his lips against yours. “Mi mujer loca.” He whispered against your skin as he left a line of kisses down your neck. 

“I missed you, Javi,” you replied, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him back up to look at you. 

The softness that lined his face, something that only you ever got to see, made your pulse speed up. “Show me,” he replied, rolling you over until you were on top of him, straddling his hips. 

This time it was your turn to kiss him. 

____________________

You thought in time it would be easier to watch him leave, but it never was. You stood at the counter in your robe, a mug of coffee in your hands as he gathered all of his things and got ready to go back to the city. You wished you could stop him, but you knew you couldn’t. Finding Escobar was too important to him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to stand in the way of that, no matter how scared you were every time he left that he might not come back. “Do you know the next time I’ll get to see you?” You asked, wishing you didn’t sound as pathetic as you did. 

Javi slipped his wallet into his back pocket and walked over to you, brushing some hair out of your face. “As soon as possible hermosa. We’re so close.” He promised you, resting his forehead against your own.

Nodding, you let him pull you into a soft goodbye kiss, wishing it could last for longer, but knowing it couldn’t. “Try not to get yourself killed, Javi.” You told him, your hands sliding up his chest to button the last couple of buttons on his shirt. 

Javier didn’t say anything. Instead he gave you another kiss, this time against your cheek. You closed your eyes to savor the feeling, and didn’t open them again until you heard the door click shut behind him. It was easier to let him go if you didn’t have to watch him leave. 

____________________

You avoided your bedroom for the rest of the day, doing work from home and keeping yourself as busy as possible. You knew if you went back to your bedroom, you’d be hit with memory after memory of the past weekend wrapped in the sheets with Javi. Eventually though, it got dark, and you couldn’t stop yawning. You knew you couldn’t wait any longer. 

When you walked in, you expected the sheets to be a mess, the pillows thrown around everywhere with clothes still littering the floor, but . . . it wasn’t. It seemed that Javier had taken it upon himself to clean up before he left. 

But the real surprise was what waited in the middle of the bed for you. 

A new stuffed animal, instead of the teddy bear that had been in your bed the night he got back, was sitting there. It was a simple black dog, nothing special about it other than the fact that Javi had gotten it for you. Which made all the difference. You sat down on your bed and held it close to your chest, noticing the small piece of paper underneath when you moved it. 

Until I come back, this is the closest you’re getting to a fucking dog. -Javi

For the first time that day, a grin broke out across your face.

[shepard-ram]

📺LETS GOOOO this is very out of character but it’s too late. A continuation of Evil X x attention starved!Reader. This got LONG.

Also he/they Evil X rights

It’s been a long week. Between busting your ass at the Evil Emporium and working on your own projects, you were exhausted. You hadn’t been able to see Evil X all week due to your busy schedule and him working on new projects with Xisuma. He had called you into his throne room “for a chat,” Which is always a terrifying thing to hear from your employer. Anxiety bubbled up in your chest as you walked up to the door, scared for what news he was going to break to you. Were you not working hard enough? Did you forget something important? Did he secretly hate you this entire time and he’s now telling you how he really feels?

Your mind continues to spiral as you knock on the door and hear a “come in'' from the other side. You push the door open with a creak and see Evil X leaning back in his throne, with his elbow resting on one of the arms as he rests his head against his hand, and has one of his legs propped up on the seat. He was flipping a premium derpcoin in his free hand, but stopped when he glanced over and saw it was you. He stared at you for a few seconds before setting the coin down and sitting up straight. Oh god, here it comes. Whatever bad news he had was about to be unleashed upon you. You held your breath in anticipation.

“How have you been?”

Huh?

You let out your breath. “What?”

“I said; how have you been? I haven’t been able to see you all week.”

“Oh… I’ve been okay.”

Evil X leaned to the side closest to you and propped his head back up on his hand, “What do you mean by ‘okay’?”

You swallowed and looked to the side, “Well I’ve been extremely busy all week. Between the Emporium and my own deadlines I haven’t had any time for myself.”

He tilted his head at you a bit, “you poor thing,” you genuinely had no idea if he was mocking you, “I’m not overworking you, am I?” Oh, okay, guess he’s not.

“N-no! Not at all! I got all the things you asked me to do done! I promise!” You didn’t want him to think that the job was too much for you, because it wasn’t. You enjoyed your job, and you enjoyed working for Evil X. Sure, sometimes you would feel a pang of guilt in your chest when you think about how he’s basically trying to scam the hermits, but he had ways of making you forget all about that.

“I wasn’t doubting you, sweetness.”

Like that. You felt your heart flutter at the petname, and they smirked underneath their helmet at the pink that dusted itself across your cheeks. “I know you’re good at following my orders like a good minion, but minions deserve rest every once in a while too,” he said while sitting back up.

“And you,” he pushed himself out of the throne and walked over in front of you, “are the best minion an overlord could ask for.”

Your face flared red at the praise and you covered your face with both of your hands, causing them to chuckle at your reaction. They gently pryed one of your hands away from your face so he could replace it with his own, cupping your cheek. You shyly looked up at him, putting your hand against his as he rubs your cheek with his thumb. They’re looking down at you with a soft expression in their eyes, “I can tell you’re still tense.” You looked away to the side again. He was right. After being stressed out all week, it was hard to come back down and relax.

He removed his hand from your face and softly grabbed your hand that you rested against his, and pulled you in front of the throne. “Let me help you,” they said as they put their hands on your shoulders and gently pressed you down into the throne. It was much too big for you, as you had to scoot back a bit, and even then you couldn’t reach the backrest. You put your hands on the edge of each arm and looked up at them, waiting for your next instruction. They folded their arms behind their back as they looked down at you, their eyes crinkling in what you assume is a smile, “good, now wait here.”

With that he walked behind the throne and you heard a lever flip, and a warmth spread throughout your body, starting at your hands. You slowly looked up to see red electricity flowing out of the top of the throne and down the sides into where you had placed your hands. You watched the light show above you in awe as you felt all your muscles relax. “There you go, that’s it. Relax.” Evil X words seemed to soothe you even further, slumping your shoulders as you took a deep breath.

Another flick of a lever can be heard and the throne is shut off, leaving you feeling warm and slightly drowsy. Evil X walks out from behind the throne and stations himself in front of you, looking down at your now relaxed form.

“Feeling better?” They asked. All you did was sleepily blink and nod at them, resulting in them giving a small faint laugh, “good, now it’s time for your reward.”

“Wha-“

Before you could drowsily ask your question, Evil X placed his knee on the throne next to your thigh. You scoot back a bit in shock and lean back in the throne until your head is stopped by the backrest, moving your hands from the arms to the seat of the throne to support your weight. They then place their other knee on the other side of you, and sit back on their haunches while resting their hands on their knees. Your face has long since flushed red at the action, looking up at him with wide eyes as he drinks in the view of you beneath him.

Then, after a deep breath, they reach up and detach their helmet from the rest of their armor and pull it off of their head. White hair falls and frames his face, some landing in between two glowing red eyes. He has a scar in the shape of a giant “X” in between his eyes, spreading onto his forehead and cheeks. They place their helmet on one of the arms of the throne and place their hands back on their knees, leaning down and smirking over you. This newfound closeness allowed you to see faint red freckles smattered across their cheeks and nose.

In your drowsy state, you lifted your hands up and cupped both of his cheeks, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“You’re really pretty.”

With wide eyes he stared at you for a second, before chuckling and shaking his head while gently grabbing your hands from his face.

“I appreciate the compliment, dear, but tonight’s all about you.” They said before kissing the back of one of your hands while intertwining their fingers with the other. Your blush continued to consume your entire face as they planted kisses up your arm, neck, and face as the final kiss was saved your mouth. At this point you had a stupid wide smile on your face, and were giggling like an idiot.

“Nice to know you’re enjoying yourself,” they say as they nuzzle into your neck, peppering it in little kisses.

“Th-that tickles!” You exclame through giggles and gasps for air. Your blush spreads down to your shoulders as you gasp, feeling two sharp points graze your skin. You run your fingers through the back of his hair as he gently nibbles at your neck, humming contently at your touch.

“Maybe I should leave a few marks,” he says deeply while still pressed against your neck. “Let the others know who you belong to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You say while slightly out of breath.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” they say while moving away from your neck and pressing a kiss against your cheek. They sit back up on their haunches and stare down at the flustered mess beneath them.

“How will we let the others know how good you are to me?” They ask while tilting their head to the side, pretending to be innocent.

“If you constantly brag about m-me then they might try t-to… take me?…” you tried to come up with an excuse, but in reality you couldn’t handle the embarrassment of another hermit noticing love bites on you.

They hum in thought, “I guess you're right. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if someone took my little one away from me.”

You shrink down into the throne at the petname. God you feel like you’re about to combust.

His stares down at you half-lidded and with a lazy smile, “alright, if I go any further I think I might accidentally break you,” he leaned in and whispered lowly in your ear, “and as much as I’d love to, you’re more useful to me in full working order.” You covered your face in embarrassment as you felt them get off of you. You felt two strong arms scoop you up out of the throne, and after some maneuvering you’re gently placed in Evil Xs lap. They gently hold you against their chest and kiss the top of your head.

“But in all seriousness, I wouldn’t know what to do if you left me. You do so much for me. At first I just saw you as free labor but-“ they pause and look away, red dusting their cheeks, “it’s nice to have someone here who… really cares about me.”

You blink at them, and also look away, blushing again, “it’s nice to have someone who tells me how much they appreciate me.” You murmur into his chest. You feel a rumble as they chuckled, “how could I not appreciate you, sweetness? The Empire would be nowhere near where it is without you.”

All you could do in reply is smile like an idiot and nuzzle your face into their chest, hiding it away. Evil X begins to gently rock you back and forth, and you’re suddenly hit with how exhausted you are. You yawn and close your eyes, deciding here and now is where you will sleep. You never wanted to move from this spot. It was perfect.

As you drift into unconsciousness you feel a gently kiss on the top of your head and hear Evil X whisper,

“Sweet dreams little one, you deserve them.”

I LOVE THIS,,, SO INCREDIBLY MUCH MY GOD I WILL MELT WHERE I SIT THANK YOU TELE FOR CONTINUING THIS

[whippin-cream]

Blooming Day, Part 1

You neve imagined that your engagement would fail, that you would move to Korea, or that by a series of coincidences you would meet your long-term celebrity crush, Byun Baekhyun. You most certainly never imagined that someone like him would take an interest in you either, but he did; and now you’re stuck because you don’t trust like you used to and you just aren’t quite sure if you have the courage to take a chance on him. 

Wordcount: 4k

You let out a sigh as you dropped your spoon back into your tea. You wondered how long it would take for the cheap metal to turn the drink as bitter as you felt about the state of your life at the current moment. You flopped back onto the floor, still not having any actual furniture despite having been in Korea for just under a month now.

Who needed a sofa or a nice set of kitchen chairs when you had that homely camping chair you picked up for cheap at the street market? Sure, the arms were flimsy, the cup holder was too small, and it sagged very low when you sat in it, but, it was something and it was yours.

To be fair, you thought, you were never supposed to have been here.

You were supposed to have rejected the opportunity to study for a year in Korea in favor of finally marrying your fiancé in the Spring: transferring to a college just 15 minutes away from the job he was offered at some powerhouse music label. 

That was what you had been planning ever since you got engaged 6 months ago. Even found a nice apartment with the view of a park filled to the brim with tall trees and dickhead geese that you liked to watch chase people. You spent so many Saturday mornings with Ethan on the balcony. Nothing sounded better than finally starting a life together with the man you loved more than yourself.

 Well, at least until you came home early on your anniversary to surprise him with his favorite dessert and found him balls deep in your (former) best friend.

 On the bed you paid for.

 The bitch even had the nerve to be wearing the fancy set of lingerie that you had bought for yourself just a few months prior as a reward for acing a particularly brutal exam.

 You remember dropping the sweets onto the floor, furiously yanking the diamond off your left hand, and throwing it somewhere in his general direction. You tightly clutched the purse that you never even got the chance to set down to your body and ran back out of the apartment. He rushed after you, yelling some bullshit about how it “didn’t mean anything”, “it isn’t what you think”, and “(Y/N), I love you! I’m sorry. Baby, please stop!”

 You didn’t, though. Your brisk walked changed into a full sprint when curious neighbors opened their doors to take a peek at the commotion. They glanced repeatedly between the sobbing girl and the naked man yelling after her. It was by far the most humiliating experience of your life.

 From there the details of that day get a little fuzzy, but you remember taking a taxi to the airport and buying a last-minute flight to Seoul. A child kicked the back of your seat for at least half the time you were in the air out of boredom, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him to stop. After a good five hours of doing nothing but staring blankly in front of you, you managed to drift off.

When you came to, a flight attendant was explaining to everyone that they needed to get ready to disembark. Her warm smile and friendly tone did nothing but annoy you. Who gave her the right to be so happy when your world just crumbled beneath your feet?

 You knew you were being irrational, but still.

 After making it to what appeared to be a small shopping center within the airport, you decided that you needed a drink. Preferably something warm and sugary to get you out of the daze you were in. Luckily, a Starbucks was nestled in between two shops: One being an overpriced gift shop and the other selling fast food that was far too greasy for the average customer. About 20 minutes later you were sitting alone on a barstool, with a half-full venti cup that was most definitely cold by now, but you didn’t mind.

 With one more deep breath, you reached into your purse and slid out your phone. You had turned it off immediately after buying your plane tickets and you were scared of the notifications that you would receive. Part of you was even more scared that you wouldn’t receive any.

 Was it possible for him to just toss five years together away so quickly? Could you? After all, he did say he was sorry. That it was all just a big mistake, and that he loved you and not her.

But how could he do something like that to you when he said he loved you? You loved him, and you most certainly never slept with another man. Especially not in the bed you shared with him and with his closest friend.

  How many times had they done it? Was it truly a mistake? Maybe he had just gotten drunk and it was all one big accident. Your head started to hurt with all the possibilities floating through your mind.

 You had shocked yourself with a quick, but firm smack to the center of your forehead. “You don’t accidentally stick your dick in someone else, idiot. Why would he be drunk at 2 pm? He knew what he was doing.”

 With your thumb pressing into the power button you watched with bated breath as the welcome screen flashed on. You waited for the notifications to flood your phone; the flight to Seoul was long, surely, you’d have received many texts in that time, right? Your finger tapped anxiously on the screen as it refreshed.

 Then, one after another a notification popped up in a bright banner at the top of the phone. There were several voicemails and even more texts. They started out apologetic, parroting the words he yelled after you in the hallway. However, they grew increasingly nasty. Ethan always did have a nasty temper, and it flared up when he was being ignored and when he was drunk.

Judging by how slurred his voice was in the last few messages, and how incoherent his texts became, it was safe to assume that he had downed the bottle of (far too expensive) whiskey he loved to always keep stocked at the house.

 While you weren’t able to make out everything he said to you, the gist was that you were just some dumb little girl that he had settled for because you were safe. That he never loved you and that you needed to apologize to him for the scene you created when you left the apartment.

  “The neighbors were staring.” Because that was your fault, just like the reason he cheated was your fault too, apparently.

 He ended his drunken tirade by saying that you would never find a man like him again and that sooner or later you would come crawling back to him. After all, you were dating up by dating him, he claimed. "What other man would want you?"

 Though, you did not go crawling back to him. Not even after he sobered up and the second round of “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it”s started back up again.

 It was clear that he didn’t respect you. The only thing your father ever made you promise about how you would date is that you would not tolerate staying with a person who treated you with less dignity than you deserved. You knew that you would never be happy marrying a man that looked down on you. How would your life be anything but constant paranoia with a person that could run around with other women without even acting guilty about it?

 It definitely was not easy, and there were times where you did consider that maybe you had overreacted. Admittedly, moving across the globe did seem rather dramatic at times, but going to Korea was something that you wanted to do long before you ever met Ethan. When you tried to look at things in a positive light, you saw that: you got to move on in your life, continue your education, and cross an item off of your bucket list all in one go. Despite trying your hardest to stay optimistic, most days you simply did not have the energy to do anything other than wallow in your own self-pity.

 Today was one of those days.

 You brought your hands to your chest and rolled over a few times to get on the sleeping mat you wanted to snuggle up in. While it was no Tempurpedic, it was surprisingly comfortable; especially when you wrapped yourself in the soft and bulky you crocheted the week prior.

 You slipped off your glasses and placed them a few feet above the mat. Light was still pouring in through the window, so you brought your blanket up and over your head. It covered your eyes while the edge curved down around the side of your face and rested under your chin. You loved the darkness and all-around cozy feeling it provided without having your mouth covered by the blanket. You hated having your mouth covered by the blanket. It never felt like you could get enough air when it was.

 Unfortunately for you, the sleep was not as comforting as you assumed it would be. The happy dreams where everything you could have ever wanted and hoped for were nowhere to be found that night, neither were the strange ones that left you with a feeling of confusion that you couldn’t quite shake when you woke up. Instead, you were plagued with watching a replay of your anniversary on loop.

 After a few hours, you managed to pry your eyes open. Your skin felt uncomfortably sticky due to the cold sweat you had broken out in. You felt warm tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill over. You blinked them away, angry at yourself for still crying over him. 

You felt pathetic.

You pressed the heels of your hands against your temples in a sad attempt to get the thump, thump, thumping in your head to stop. You raked your fingernails down your face, wincing at the slight burn you felt. You snatched the glasses from the ground and hastily shoved them onto your face.

 You picked up your phone and tapped on it harder than you probably needed to. You didn’t know what you were expecting to find on your phone, but you hoped that there would be something there that stop the lonely feeling you felt in your chest from consuming you entirely.

Your salvation came in the form of a text from Minji. “CALL ME!!!” It read, several emojis following the exclamation points. It brought a smile to your lips. That was something Minji had always been good at.

You had first met her back in high school when she was taking part in her own foreign exchange program. The two of you became fast friends, staying in contact with one another even after she went back home to Korea. Her personality was bright and warm, and she had a knack for making even the most socially awkward people feel comfortable in her presence.

Despite your history, you had to admit that you were a bit shocked to hear from her. Seven months ago she became a trainee for SM entertainment, and your communication with her went from nearly daily to radio silence. It stung, but you understood. Becoming an idol had always been her dream, and you didn’t think it would be fair to try to distract her from that.

You had let her know when you first arrived in Korea, and while she seemed excited over the phone, she hadn’t seen you yet. You pressed the phone icon next to her name, opting to put the call on speaker because your earbuds were nowhere to be found.

“(Y/N)! You got my message.”

“Yeah, what’s up Minji?” You replied, lightly digging your fingers into your thumb. You couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You wondered what exactly it was that she needed.

“Look, I know I’ve been a bad friend. I have been distant lately, and this isn’t fair. Especially not to you. I mean, you’re the one who encouraged me to even go to the audition in the first place. If you hadn’t of yelled at me until I got off my ass and went…. Well, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

She paused for a moment to take a breath.

“So, I want to make it up to you. I don’t exactly have the money to take you out for dinner or anything, but SM is having a party on Friday. All the trainees that are close to debuting will be there, and so will the established artists.  It is supposed to help us build “inter-company relationships”; whatever that means. We are all allowed to bring a plus one, and I want that to be you. There will be expensive catering, and that fancy booze that is so easy to get drunk on since it doesn’t taste like alcohol. The perfect venue for catching up. So, what do you say?”

She sounded slightly awkward, but hopeful as well. Before you could answer she started speaking.

"I know it isn't exactly your scene, but I really want to see you."

"What's the dress code, Min? I wouldn't want to look totally out of place." You replied. You closed your eyes tightly. Minji was right, big parties were not your thing. However, you reasoned, maybe you needed something out of your comfort zone.

Minji squealed so loudly that you recoiled slightly. "Does that mean you're coming? Yes! Nothing too fancy, but not casual either. Remember, simple is sexy, baby."

You snorted and shook your head. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll text you the address.” You heard her name get called in the background. “Sorry, I have to get back to practice now. I’ll see you in a few days. Bye!” The line went dead, and you rolled back over. You felt a contentedness that you hadn’t felt since the breakup wash over you. It was nice to know that you still mattered to someone.

The days leading up to Friday flew by quickly. You had bought yourself a fitted black dress for the party. You wanted to look nice, but you didn’t exactly want to draw any unwanted attention to yourself either. You paired the dress with some flats and kept your makeup minimal as well.

You grinned at yourself and gave a little twirl when you did your final once over in the mirror. You rarely got to wear dresses; Ethan had always gotten upset with you when you tried. He thought they brought on too much male attention, and in the interests of keeping the peace you just gave them up.

You felt pretty.

You felt happy. Truly happy.

A pleasant warmth bloomed in your chest, and you could feel it spread throughout your body. You eyed the perfume you had bought and saved for a special occasion. This occasion, you decided, was special enough.

In 20 minutes time you found yourself in front of the doors to SM Entertainment. They seemed big, and mildly intimidating, but you pushed through them regardless. You sent Minji a text that you had arrived and you moved to stand by some chairs in the lobby.

You dug your fingers into your thumb while you waited.  It stung a bit, but the feeling kept you grounded. You took in the architecture of the building, staring in awe at how sleek the whole place looked.

A hand on your shoulder startled you and you turned to see Minji’s smiling face. You smiled back at her, and you were quickly brought into a hug. It was slightly awkward, as a hug was a greeting she reserved for her foreign friends only. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture.

When she pulled away you finally got a good look at her. The first thing you noticed was that she was significantly slimmer. You felt a flash of self-consciousness hit you, but you quickly dismissed it.

“Come on, the party’s this way.”

After a few hallways, and a short elevator ride you found yourself in the reception room. It was loud, and lively. Minji led you closer to one of the walls by the back of the room. It was in close enough proximity to the dancefloor that you two could join in without too much trouble, but just quite enough that you two could talk comfortably. Minji spoke first.

She went on and on about all the funny things that happened in practice, and how she was so excited to have been placed in a group she knew would debut sometime in the near future. She hadn’t been given an exact date yet, but they had started to shoot promotional content. Minji explained that she had done three photoshoots in the past week, and cringed when she talked about how awkward she felt doing her solo shots.

She giggled and grabbed a glass of something pink and pretty from a waiter that was carrying them by. “I felt like I was doing school pictures again. Hopefully these ones turn out a little bit better.”  She took a gulp of her drink and then nodded toward you.

“Enough about me. How have you been? How’s the wedding planning going?”

Ah, right. You hadn’t told her about the breakup yet.

You coughed awkwardly and brought your left hand up to show it off. “It’s…” you hesitated “It isn’t anymore. Ethan and I are over.” You averted your eyes, grabbing your own alcohol and downing it. When you looked back at Minji, her eyes were wide and she sputtered out a quick apology. Her cheeks were stained an embarrassed pink.

“What happened?” She questioned before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“I caught him and Rachel in bed together.” You answered simply, not wanting to go into too much detail. You didn’t want to ruin the night that had been so fun so far.

Minji’s face hardened. She had never liked Rachel, or Ethan for that matter. You knew that, and you were hoping to escape an “I told you so”.  Minji scoffed. “What an asshole.” She muttered quietly. “Who needs him anyway?”

You smiled at her. “Not me; but what I do need is some more of this.” You held up your empty glass and shook it slightly.

After a few more drinks and reminisced memories you found yourself on the dancefloor with Minji. You felt the heat radiating off of you, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from the dancing, but it was nearly too much for you. You made a mental note to just drink water for the rest of the night, but your head was fuzzy and you weren’t quite sure if you’d be able to resist a pina colada if one became accessible.

You weren’t the best dancer, especially compared to the trainees and idols surrounding you, but you were enjoying yourself. You felt a fresh rush of adrenaline hit you when Exo’s Wolf came on. You were sure you and Minji looked ridiculous when you made wolf ears with your hands at the “awoo” parts, but the two of you were laughing to hard to truly care.

“I haven’t heard this song in so long!” You shouted to her.

She looked at you in surprise. “What? But you love Exo.”

You nodded back to her. “I do, but Ethan didn’t like me listening to them.”

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, he never really gave me a good reason.” Minji rolled her eyes once again.

“Just another reason to be glad he’s out of your life.” You giggled at her statement. She was right. The more you thought back on your relationship the more you realized that maybe he wasn’t really the prince charming you thought he was. You couldn’t just be you when you were with him. You were the you he wanted you to be. The only thing that you left the relationship with was a monthly payment to a landlord for an apartment you weren’t even living in. Ethan had refused to allow you to take your name off of the lease. So, fuck Ethan.

“Have you met them?” You asked. Her eyes brightened, and she nodded her head rapidly.

“Yes, and god. They are so much hotter in person.” You noticed a shift in her expression then. Something mischievous made its way onto her features. “Are you ever going to tell me who your bias is?”

You laughed. “Fuck no, Minji. Definitely not now. You know them! That would be weird.” You whined. You knew that if you admitted to holding a fondness for Baekhyun that you would never hear the end of it. She pouted at you. Her lip stuck out and it wobbled slightly.

You walked backwards a few steps and she followed. “Puppy dog eyes won’t work on me, Minji.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t know Exo that well. Just tell me.”

“Nope, too weird.” You laughed again. The room was spinning, and everything seemed far more funny to you than it should have. However, your laughter was cut short when you backed into the firm chest of someone behind you.

You felt the warm exhale of breath against your face as a voice you only recognized from interviews and fancams whispered in your ear. “What’s so weird about us?”  You froze. A feeling of terror shot down your spine and your face became far hotter than you thought was humanly possible. That voice definitely belonged to a one Byun Baekhyun, and his tone was teasing. “Huh?” He questioned again. After the initial shock wore away, you realized that your body was completely pressed against his.

You shot away from him like you had been scalded. He had a Cheshire-cat grin plastered on his face. “N-nothing.” You stammered. Your eyes were so wide they nearly popped right out of your skull, and you were sure Minji’s were doing the same.

His eyes slowly glanced down the length of your body before his gaze found Minji’s. “Friend of yours?” He asked. She merely nodded in response. He turned his attention back to you and bowed slightly. “I’m Baekhyun, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You didn’t respond until you felt Minji elbow you in the side.

You bowed back, slightly lower than what he had given to you. “(Y/N).”

He grinned at you once again. He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair, causing a few strands to fall back over his forehead. His cheeks were flushed red, and you wondered if he was as tipsy as you were. “Minji, we are having a bit of an afterparty at the dorms later. Well, technically it’s supposed to be a mentorship meeting, but we want to make it fun, you know? The rest of your members have already been invited. Feel free to bring your friend along.”

He winked at the two of you, and then he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, not quite sure how to process what had just happened. You glanced over at Minji to find that she was already staring at you. “What the fuck was that?” You whispered to her. You felt a sudden need for secrecy, and it seemed she felt the same way.

“I think Baekhyun just hit on you.” You shook your head violently.

“And I think you’re crazy.” You stated, though conviction was nowhere to be found in your voice.

“You are coming with me to that afterparty.”

“I most certainly am not! You heard him. It is supposed to be a mentorship thing.”

“And you heard him when he said he wanted something more fun that that.” She hissed back.

“Minji.” You warned.

“(Y/N).” She shot back as she raised her eyebrows at you. “If nothing else, come for me. Tonight is our night to catch up, remember?”  Your fingers went to your thumb, and you nodded your head. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach and you tried to expel them with a sigh.

“Okay, I’ll go.”

[pizzazz-party]

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

In the world of Ring Fit Adventure, there exist monsters, ghosts, cyborgs, robots, gods, a curious array of animals, human beings of enormous size…and Ring. Ring—a creature so entirely unique, he fails to fit into any of those categories.

Everyone has their own idea as to what Ring is, and as to where he came from. So here’s mine.

(Spoilers for the end of the main storyline. Various postgame dialogue spoilers beyond that.)

If we’re going to talk about where Ring might have come from, it makes sense to look for clues in what he’s presented as. Physically, and subtextually. So let’s take it from the top.

Stepping away from the confines of the game, Ring’s shape is based off a Pilates ring, a piece of exercise equipment who’s history dates back to nearly a century ago, as of the game’s release. It was invented to help rehabilitate wounded soldiers through physical therapy following World War I. Design-wise, though…Ring’s face draws heavy inspiration from depictions of Ancient Inca art. Specifically, he looks a lot like the figure atop this ceremonial tumi knife.

The prominent nose. The familiar jawline. A headpiece bisecting the brow. The blue commonly set into the eyes of the art. The ears—heavy earrings were unisex among the Inca nobility, resulting in long, stretched lobes. But most importantly—the statue is gold. And in the ancient Inca Empire, gold was revered as being sweat from the very sun itself. Metal nowadays is often associated with machinery, with invention. But raw metal has always been a fruit of the earth, as natural as any wood or leaf. The Inca took it a step further. They thought of gold as mystical.

Likewise, Ring’s design is meant to invoke these traits. Despite being made of metal, Ring visibly lacks gears or wiring or nozzles or hatches. His mouth may have a hinge and his flaming little hair piece may spin around. But in terms of “build,” Ring (the magical metal donut) has more in common with Pinocchio (the magical wooden puppet), than with an actual machine.

On a surface level, Ring really is best described as a “magical creature.” He’s obviously not made of flesh and blood. But he’s alive in a way that the closest comparison—sentient robots—just aren’t. Ring sweats, breathes, sleeps, eats. He ages. His metal face flexes and grows and shrinks as he speaks. Ring wields exercise energy, much in the same way that humans do, and more. He crafts, enhances, and stores things with it. Its raw essence flows through him like a fiery kind of lifeblood.

Ring’s not a human or a cyborg. He’s not a monster or a ghost or an animal. He’s made of metal like a robot, and that’s about it. And while Ring may (presumably) have the long life of a god, he lacks everything else. Right down to the proper shape and abilities. Ring, whatever the specifics, is a “magical creature” that exists in a class of his own. We never ever meet another being quite like him.

…At least. That’s what I used to think.

———

The thing with Ring is, it’s hard to tell whether he’s actively omitting facts or just forgetting them. He’s got a terrible memory. But he also as good as lies to us in the beginning, pretending as though Dragaux’s just some enemy to him.

So here is what I understand.

We meet Ring, and he and Dragaux are positioned as these perfect opposites, as perfect enemies. Ring builds others up, and Dragaux tears them down. Dragaux is flashy, an eyesore, the purple to Ring’s yellow, and yet he steals the stage every time. He’s a jerk, but he’s Ring’s jerk. We show up to every boss fight because we are invested in his story, his opinions, his downward spiral.

And that’s our first mistake, really. Because Dragaux’s accent color isn’t purple, it’s pink. Because Dragaux’s opposite isn’t Ring, it’s Trainee. And Ring’s real foil was never Dragaux, but Dark Influence itself.

———

Have you ever thought about how strange it is, this particular parasite. From a narrative standpoint, I mean. As much as it’s referred to as “Dragaux’s influence” or “Dragaux’s aura,” Dragaux is only its latest meal, not its source. And that meal has been lasting anywhere from decades to a century, at least. Dark Influence is, by nature, negativity incarnate. It could be as old as the hills. Older, maybe.

Dark Influence is voiceless, faceless. A parasite composed of pure negative exercise energy, it can theoretically exist on its own. But it thrives best when entrenched in the heart of a host. Its host—a physical creature that, once ensnared, starts exhibiting traits that belong to the Influence: like great swathes of flame in its signature color.

Does that not sound. Familiar.

Because Ring and Dark Influence? Fulfill eerily similar roles, in regards to their syncing partners.

Both of them harness their partner’s exercise energy. Both of them augment the abilities of their partner. But unlike Ring, who’s always actively helping Trainee in precise and creative ways…Dark Influence doesn’t care. I’m not sure if it can give a care about anything that doesn’t include “amassing power” and “spreading itself.” (And I think those are just instincts. I’ve yet to see proof that this thing has anything approaching a complex personality.) But whether or not it cares about Dragaux, it’s fully anchored within his body. It shares its strength with him because there’s nowhere else to store it.

Because unlike Ring, Dark Influence lacks a physical body of its own.

And that thought. How it “lacks” a body. Just sort of stuck around in my head. Because it’s funny, isn’t it? That Ring speaks and this thing doesn’t. That Dark Influence, this wildfire, is so strong and potent and infectious while Ring’s inner flames are so small and orderly and self-contained.

And then I started thinking about coins. Isn’t it funny, that they’re shaped like little rings. Isn’t it funny, that they sometimes just. Spring out of the ground.

How does a free-to-play gym turn a profit. How do all of these gyms, turn a profit.

If NPCs canonically collect coins on their travels just like Trainee… If someone isn’t just throwing away buckets of money into the mountains and rivers and skies… if golden little rings can just spring into existence alongside someone as they’re jogging…

What if it’s not a quirk. What if it’s not just a game mechanic.

What if everything—the coins, the EXP medals, the treasure chests with Ring’s face on them—what if they’re all byproducts that occur when a physical place is saturated with high amounts of foot traffic. With high amounts of exercise energy. People in Ring Fit Adventure constantly expel this stuff as they jog or work out or engage in fit battles. They don’t really direct it anywhere after its release. It just kind of gets absorbed into their surroundings. I always assumed that it helped make the land so lush and pretty, but what if it doesn’t stop there. What if, when large quantities of it gather, exercise energy naturally builds up and condenses itself into permanent, physical solids.

And I thought of Ring. Of the coins that are shaped like him. Of the medals that eerily share his face. Of the treasure chests especially, the way they scream and run and flex as though alive. (And I thought about Dragaux, who’s canonically brilliant, and how even his best statues fell short of capturing that same quality of animation.) I thought about how all three of these byproducts are golden. Just. Like. Ring.

Something like “dark” influence should have a natural counterpart. It’s a tale as old as time; perfect opposites, perfect enemies. But we never meet the Influence’s other half, do we? Just Ring.

Ring, our buddy, our pal. Ring, who’s a person in every way that matters, with hope and dreams and insecurities. Ring the “magical creature,” who, despite all of this, has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

———

So here is the heart of my crazy theory.

Ring isn’t “partially” made of energy. He’s all energy, all the way down to his every last piece, whether it flows like a river or shines like a stone. And it could be that a long, long time ago, he existed much in the same way as the Dark Influence we fight in the game: as an unrestrained and formless entity. Not as a ring, but as a bright and brainless swathe of flames.

(Because if Dark Influence is insecurity and self-destruction and decay, balance would dictate its opposite be positivity, self-improvement, rebirth. A dangerously Bright Influence.)

And maybe it was just a natural process that got triggered when the conditions were right. But either way, somehow, someway, this particular Influence reincarnated into a shape that could better interact with people, without overwhelming or eating them. And that most natural shape condensed itself into Ring.

A baby Ring.

———

Even if you don’t buy into the existence of “Bright” Influence, Ring fully being some sort of life energy incarnate answers too many questions. It would explain why Ring is so good at manipulating exercise energy; it’s the most natural extension of himself. It would explain why Ring has the unique ability to sync with people; it’s how he originally used to exist, as life energy drifting in and out of living creatures. It would explain the aging. It would explain why Ring never mentions a parent or creator watching over him during childhood; because he came into this world totally alone. (Baby Ring belonged to no one before he belonged with Baby Drags.)

But Ring’s theoretical past life answers a few more questions. It could explain parts of Ring’s personality, his interests. (His dream of spreading positivity across the land.) It explains why there aren’t ten million Rings floating about, when coins and medals and chests are so relatively common. (Because there’s a key ingredient missing). It actually explains his five special powers. (Because I’m betting Influences have human-related origins. It’s either that, or “live humans being consumed” was part of the “perfect” conditions surrounding Ring’s birth. Which, cringe.) But more than anything, it addresses the sheer power imbalance happening between Ring and Dark Influence right now.

Dark Influence lacks boundaries and spreads itself like a virus, thoughtless and instinctive. Ring’s natural weapon against this thing should be to “infect” it right back. (I would expect some sort of sick light show to dance across Dragaux’s body during battle; yellow flames squaring off against purple.) But it doesn’t work that way. Ring the Person no longer works this way.

If Dark influence is a forest fire, then Ring is a fireplace set behind glass. At their core, these two are both energy. But the modes in which they exist divide them into separate skill sets entirely.

Dark Influence is wildfire of brute strength. It’s got range—in the spatial sense. It can spread to as many secondary hosts as Dragaux directs it to, so long as it’s fed well enough to reach for them. Compared to Ring’s measly one syncing partner, Dark Influence can sink itself into whole regions, can simultaneously feed off of so many people. It doesn’t have outright mind control powers; it’s more subtle than that. But its presence as negativity incarnate naturally works like a magnet to draw out the worst in people. There is nothing it enhances in a person that wasn’t already there, no matter how small the weakness. Coupled with the rush of power it imparts in its vessels, it makes bad decisions feel right. Even to good people. It’s, quite simply, a bad influence. (And then it consumes them.)

But other than that, Dark Influence doesn’t really do much.

Our bud Ring may only be able to light one house at a time, so to speak. But as contained as he is—Ring’s powers are more varied and nuanced, because Ring is more varied and nuanced. He’s always actively (and thoughtfully) applying energy to construct, convert, and amplify. For all its fearsome strength, the only thing Dark Influence can seemingly do on purpose, is feed.

———

(If Ring was once a being like Dark Influence, then that solves the final mystery of synchronization. If Dark Influence “infects” its host by sinking into the body, then Ring syncs with a partner by “planting” a piece of his essence inside them. This is why Trainee’s energy signature changes to mimic Ring’s; because she now carries a part of him in her beating heart. This is why Ring can freely access her energy; because this makes her a part of him now, too.)

———

So. Let’s pretend I’m not crazy. Say that all of these little details I’ve collected were intentionally laid out by the game developers. Say I’m correct, and that Ring really is, essentially, the child of Dark Influence’s greatest natural enemy.

The real question is: how self aware is Ring about all of this.

Because unfortunately, Ring not knowing his own backstory could be pretty on-brand for him. I love Ring, but from his point of view, it really could be that he just appeared one day, somehow—as an entirely clean slate. “Dark” or “bright,” these entities are brainless. Literally. No body means no brain. They can’t store memories, so they don’t have memories. Just energy.

Ring must know that he’s made from energy, too. He might even think of himself as one very lucky byproduct. But if this is really what Ring used to be (if there’s even a shadow of a chance that his predecessor used to eat people), then he might not know the full extent of his own story.

And maybe that’s for the best. I can’t imagine him choosing to get close to people otherwise. He loves people, cares so much about every single silly soul that he meets.

This would hurt him.

———

Whatever Ring’s origins may be, whatever he might have once been (if he’s ever been anything else at all)… I do know one thing. And it’s that I prefer him prefer him just the way he is.

Weird comments about my sweat aside, I wouldn’t have him any other way.

———

TL;DR: Our bud Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

If a flaming entity of negative energy can exist, then why not one made of positive energy? If positive energy condenses into permanent solids naturally and often…if Ring is made of positive energy…if Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with anything else in this game…

Who’s to say that Ring himself, wasn’t once a flaming yellow mass of energy.

———

This marks the end. I could run wild with all the implications this theory leaves in its wake. But I’ve made my point. I’ve found every answer I was looking for. And they may not have been the answers I was expecting (or even wanting), but they’ve satisfied me all the same.

I’m done. Believe what you will.

Thanks for reading, and for sticking with me all this way. It’s been real.

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DISCLAIMER: My name is Pizzazz and I take this game way too seriously. This is all for fun! At the time of this post, I am on World 36 of the post game. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable.

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RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing—How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Footprints in the Sand

Part Twelve: Hunger

Summary/Author's Note: We are in Dorne people! You wake up in bed with your lovers for the first morning of what you hope will be the rest of your days. Oberyn tells you about his family and the two of you share some quality morning time. 

I need a fucking spreadsheet for Oberyn’s Daughters. I have a google doc and at this time in the Footprints era he only has 6 (there are two left to be born). Trust me, the age calculations were...time consuming. 

(gif credit to @pajamasecrets, yes this is my header. It's perfect.)

Pairing: Oberyn x Ellaria x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k Warnings/Rating (NC-17/18+) - language, cockwarming, Oberyn uses ridiculous blades for the AESTHETIC, threesome, oral fem!receiving x2, penetration, lady on top, face sitting, mild breath play if you squint... (ALL OF THIS WILL BE HAPPENING IN PART 13, I HAD TO CUT IT.)

[Part Eleven] [Masterlist]

The sounds of birds quietly singing outside the open window in the branches of the citrus trees drew you slowly out of slumber. If you strained your ears you could hear the distinct sounds of the ocean crashing against the sands as the city started to rise and begin it's day. With tired limbs, shaky and weak like a newborn foal, you slowly sat up and pushed your wild hair out of your face. Even laden with fatigue, you had never felt more rested.

Ellaria slept quietly beside you, naked and draped in one of the many silk sheets that adorned the massive bed that the three of you now shared. Her ebony curls fanned over the pillows and her copper skin looked so soft in the morning glow of the sunbeams filtering through the gently swaying curtains. It was clear to you then that you would never get used to how truly beautiful she was, nor the idea that you were to wake beside her every morning. Was such a gift your new reality?

Looking to your left, you noticed the third member of your triad was missing.

"Oberyn?" You asked quietly to an empty room.

Ellaria turned over and pulled the sheet with her to help nestle herself down into the pillows and it made you smile. You could look for Oberyn alone--after spending the majority of the trip home sick she needed as much rest as she could get. Home. The idea of referring to such a place, and the ease at which the thought came to your mind made you feel light and giddy.

You grabbed one of Ellaria's oversized silk dressing robes off of the edge of the overflowing trunks and draped it over your shoulders. It didn't tie in the front and confirmed that it was more for decoration than for actual concealing of your nakedness. But it was soft, the royal blue slipping across your skin in a way that made you feel devine--the two of them had a knack for collecting devine and beautiful things.

The quiet trickle of water drew you to the room off to the side of the master bedroom. Before the three of you had tumbled into bed and well, into one another, Ellaria had given you a tour. The washroom was off to the side with a large marble pool for bathing, an ornate sun-shaped looking glass on the wall, and shelves full of scented oils and healing balms. Such luxury was something you had never seen, not even in the red keep, where money was thrown at armies instead of at the city's infrastructure.

Just as you had deducted, Oberyn sat in an armless, straight backed chair that he had pulled closer to one of the mirrors. A bowl of water sat on the table closest to him, and you leaned against the doorway and watched as he shaved. Despite the sunlight coming in from the window above the pool, a few candelabras flickered closer to where he was working to give him more light. There was yet to be a lighting in which his tanned skin didn't look utterly breathtaking to you and as you watched him drag his blade slowly up his throat and wipe away a bit of the soap on his neck, you had to remind yourself to in fact take a breath.

Your hand dipped down the valley of your breasts as you were suddenly filled with the desire to touch him. And yet, you didn't want him to stray from his task. You wanted to observe the way he moved, the way the muscles of his back shamelessly made your mouth water. The obvious solution for now was to touch yourself. Your fingers had barely ghosted the apex of your thighs when he spoke.

"What are you doing, lover?" His voice came as he looked at you in the mirror over his shoulder.

You took your hand away from your body and walked towards him, the silk of the robe blowing behind you gracefully while you walked. "Nothing.."

"Don't lie to your prince," he said, still holding a smile as he balanced the blade across the top of the bowl. "It looked like you were about to enjoy yourself to the image of me--come here." He grabbed your wrists and pulled you against him. He looked you up and down slowly, his dark eyes drinking you in as he reached up and pushed the robe from your shoulders to pool in the floor at your feet. "Aren't you a vision?"

"You flatter me."

"I simply observe."

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he transferred his grip from your wrist to your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years.”

“Good.”

You touched the smooth skin of his throat with the tip of your finger. The soap he had lathered onto his skin smelled of honeysuckle and rosemary. You desperately wanted to kiss along his jaw but he had only finished about half of his shaving, sculpting the sharp beard that ran along his pointed features perfectly. "May I?"

"May you what?" He looked up as he helped you slide into his lap.

"Teach me," you said, quietly as you straddled his thighs and nodded to the blade and then gestured to his jaw.

"Hmm," he made a thoughtful noise as his hands slid up your sides and cupped your breasts. His thumbs played over your nipples, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. "I don't allow many people to have a blade that close to my throat."

"I overstep--"

He pinched your right nipple gently and stopped your words before you could apologize. "You never overstep in my presence. Whose bed are you in?" He took your hand and guided it between your bodies as he started to grow hard against your thigh.

"Yours," You gasp as he wraps your fingers around his thick shaft, growing larger by the moment.

"And who am I?"

"A prince of Dorne."

"Exactly."

He put his hand behind your head and gripped your hair, pulling you forward enough to kiss you hard. You stroked him gently as you felt your own core start to respond to him. A small whimper fell from your mouth as you felt his fingers part your folds. You were sore from the night before but not enough to push away his affections. His name fell from your lips and his large hands cupped your ass and lifted you slightly.

"I'll teach you," he mumbled against your lips. "On the condition that you sit that beautiful cunt on top of my cock while you do."

You nodded as he gripped your ass and spread you slightly, making it easier for you to raise up on your knees. Using his shoulders for balance, you let him slowly impale you. He made room for himself in a way that made you clench against the intrusion. He encouraged you to relax as he nosed your neck and up to your cheek.

"How are you fairing from last night?" He asked, a soft grunt coming from his throat as you get settled.

"Sore, but I'll get used to it," you play your fingers in the back of his hair and watch his face. "I--um," you swallow hard and fight to keep your blush down. "I dreamed about what we did."

"About which part, my dear?"

"About," you lowered your voice and said quietly. "About tasting Ellaria."

"Hmm, I dare say you enjoyed that almost as much as she did." He chuckled and put his knuckle under your chin before you could look away. “No shame in that--who wouldn’t want to taste something that sweet?”

He trailed his fingers along the curve of your jaw and down over one of the mouth-shaped bruises on your neck. He had already apologized for them and you wouldn’t hear it again. You had enjoyed the making of them just as much as he had. When you bit your lip his cock twitched inside of you and you readjusted on his lap with a soft groan.

“Easy,” he chided you softly. “I can’t fuck you until I finish shaving.” His grin was as mischievous as his desire to keep you waiting. It excited you, made you long for unspoken promises you knew he intended to keep. “Grab the blade--I’ll teach you.”

You looked to the table on your right and picked up the dagger off of the bowl. It was a solid weight in your hand, not too heavy, but not at all flexible or flimsy. Unlike his other blades that you had seen on his belts and belongings, the handle was not adorned with a snake or sun or any kind of writing. In fact, it was pretty plain. Its charred black handle was crafted from the horn of an animal of some kind and wrapped in a leather strap for grip--despite the lack-luster appearance, it was clear that the blade was incredibly sharp.

“Should you use this on your face?” You raised an eyebrow and balanced it gingerly in your hand.

“What else would I use?” he chuckled as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Now, firm grip. You’re going to need one hand on the blade and one hand on my neck.”

“Oberyn--” you said, suddenly feeling less sure of yourself.

“You can do it,” he encouraged. “I happen to like the view better like this.” He smirked, looking at your breasts. He started to lean forward to put his mouth on them and you pressed him back against the chair, firmly.

“Stay still,” you teased and he nodded.

“As you command, my love,” he leaned his head to the side. “Use your free hand to press gently and pull down on my skin. It will make it taught, and then you can shave down with the grain. Short, smooth strokes.”

You bit your lip in concentration as you did just as he said. Weeks of being in his bed and your heart still hammered when you were this close to him. Here sat one of the most deadly men you had ever known and his calloused but gentle hands cupped your ass as you held a rather large blade to his throat. The intimacy and trust of the situation was not lost on you.

The blade gave a little resistance as you started to drag it gently through the soap against his neck. The suds parted revealing his skin in the most entrancing way and you carved a path down from his jaw to where his previous lines ended.

“Was Doran upset with you? Yesterday, that is,” you asked quietly once you finished your line and moved to dip the knife in the bowl of water and wipe it on the cloth.

“Yes, of course,” Oberyn, took the chance to smile as you paused in your process. “But it wasn’t the first time, and I promise you it won’t be the last.”

Your stomach turned at his words and you looked at him in earnest. “I don’t want to go back--”

“I won’t let that happen.”

His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch but his hands moved up your back as if to soothe the sting from his words. Although you didn’t know how he planned on keeping it from happening, you wanted to believe him. You had to.

The two of you sat in silence as you carefully moved the blade down his throat, taking any hair with the soap before rinsing, drying, and starting a new line. You went much slower than was probably needed, but if you drew blood on him, you would have never forgiven yourself--although Oberyn would have probably found it amusing. He took the cloth and held it for you gently, his eyes softening as he gazed upon you. The trickle of the water in the bowl sounded far too loud in all of the quiet, so you cleared your throat.

"Tell me about your family, other than Doran--your children, perhaps?"

"You wish to know about my daughters?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and when you nodded he continued. "I have six."

"Six??" You asked, unable to keep the shock from your voice.

"Yes," he said simply. His voice continued to hold a good-natured tone, despite the fact that yours teetered on audacity.

"I'm sorry, that's just so many for--"

"An unmarried man?" He moved his hand up your side and rubbed his thumb along the side of your breast slowly. "It's much different down here in the southern part of the world, my love. As I've said of our Ellaria--bastards are born of passion, of love, and we do not despise them. Should the need arise, any one of my girls would be accepted as a princess of Dorne and would be allowed to sit on the throne."

"I didn't mean any offense--"

"And you have given me none. I just wish you to unlearn the ways of such small minded people. I know it will take time, but you live here now. Your home is in Dorne, so are your people." He reached up and brushed your hair back from your neck.

"I'll try." You sat up a little, adjusting yourself around his length as you resumed the task of shaving his face. The way he spoke to you didn't make you feel foolish or small, much like his voice when you asked about the blade, he wanted nothing more than to teach you.

"That's all I ask." He put his hands back on your hips and leaned his head back against the chair, exposing his throat to you again. "Let's see, my oldest, Obara, is eighteen. Her mother was a whore from oldtown. She is an excellent fighter."

"Like her father."

"Yes," he smiled sadly. "Unfortunately the gods also gave her my anger. But I don't blame her, considering her mother's love was also full of betrayal."

"Where is her mother?" You asked without thinking and before you could apologize, Oberyn answered.

"Dead."

You kept quiet and let him continue. The blade of the dagger whispered through the soap once again and you meticulously inspected his skin for stray hairs. Hundreds of questions came to the tip of your tongue and although you were certain he would answer them all, it was enough to listen to him tell his stories the way he wanted to.

"Sarella," he paused as he said the name quietly. "Well, I guess she'd be almost nine. Also born in Old Town. Her mother is captain of a trading ship. She writes to me. Told me of her birth--perhaps one day I'll get to meet her."

"Is that something you want?"

"Of course. But only if Sarella wishes it as well."

“I can't imagine a girl not wanting to meet her father if it means she would be a princess." You smiled and worked on the last section of his neck, priding yourself on the fact that you had managed not to accidentally draw blood on him.

"Her happiness is more important than her title. And if she is happy at sea with her mother, then so am I."

“Not a lot of fathers think that way.” You nodded and pressed gently on his skin. "Almost done."

"Take your time," he reassured with a relaxed sigh before continuing. "Nymeria just had her fifteenth name day, and she was born of a Noble woman in Volantis," Oberyn said factually as he trailed his finger up your spine slowly. "She looks like her mother. Acts like her, too." He chuckled. "Tyene, now her mother was a Septa."

You paused and leaned back, unable to mask the obvious shock on your face. "A Septa?"

"Scandalous, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Am I to believe that you charmed a woman from her own faith and into your bed?"

"You can believe what you want but the proof of our endeavor is thirteen years of age and currently living at the Water Gardens of the Martells." He laughed as you placed the blade back in the bowl and used the cloth to wipe the excess soap from his jaw. "She is the only one with blonde hair and pale skin--and you know that didn't come from me."

"You speak of them fondly. Not just your daughters, but...their mothers."

"I do."

"Did you love them?"

"I did. Once upon a time."

"You are…" you paused, shaking your head and moved to put the towel on the table.

"What?"

"Nothing." Your voice was sharper than you wanted it to be and looked away from him.

"I'm what?" he challenged. "I love each one of my daughters, just as I loved their mothers. That love may have burned out quickly, may have been nothing more than passionate infatuation but it doesn't make it less real. My heart has travelled a great distance before finding its permanent home with Ellaria...and you."

“Permanent?”

“Have you ever known me to be untruthful?” he asked and you shook your head ‘no’.

Did his list of lovers intimidate you? Did knowing he held genuine emotion for them make it any easier to swallow? Jealousy was a horrible thing and yet it burned in your heart for no reason at all. These women were long gone, lost to the past of his many lived lifetimes, and here you sat, perched on his cock no less, trying not to feel jealous. It was a childish way of thinking, a foolish way, and you were neither a child or a fool. He must have seen the anguish of your thoughts on your face because his hand reached up and grabbed your jaw roughly.

"Do you wish me to stop? Does my touch offend you, now?"

"No." You answered him stubbornly as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

"Do you want me to tell you that you're far more lovely than any of them? That they all pale next to the beauty of my stolen lioness?" He raised his eyebrow again and when you tried to jerk your face from his grip, he held fast.

"Don't patronize me, Oberyn," you scowled as you put your hands on his chest and clenched around his cock. You suddenly wished he wasn't inside of you, distracting you, pulling you from the jealousy that your mind so desperately wanted to cling to. And yet, you wanted him deeper, closer, you wanted to claim him in a way that the flames of his past no longer could. All you had to do was say it.

"Then what would you have me do?" He asked as he pushed his hips up slightly, the feeling making your eyes flutter as you dug your nails into his flesh. "Say what you're feeling. What you want."

"I want," you took a steady breath before opening your eyes and looking at him with a level gaze. "I want to know that Ellaria and I are the only ones that possess your heart. That you don't look at me and see a foolish girl who has never left home, who doesn't have adventures to tell you about, or a long list of colorful lovers. I want to know that you won't grow bored of me."

“Ah,” he nodded. “I see.”

“You see? That’s it?”

Before you could pull away his hand slipped from your jaw to the back of your neck. He pulled you into him and kissed your lips with such a tenderness that made the animosity melt from your very skin. You desperately wanted to hold on to the small amount of anger you had, whatever upper hand it gave you was a lie, but it was better than continuing to feel naive in front of him.

“There’s that fire,” he whispered against your lips and you succumbed to him at last.

“What do you mean?”

“You insult yourself when there is nothing to insult. What an honor it is to help you write your own adventures." He moved his fingers to his lips and licked the tips of his first two. "And I say you've already had quite a first one--scaling down the Red Keep and running away with your two lovers is nothing to make light of."

"I guess you're right," you say quietly. You rock your hips forward once and he hisses, but still keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“You are not the wilting flower that the Lannisters have led you to believe your whole life. How does Ellaria feel about timid creatures?”

“Timid is boring.”

"And how wonderful will it be, to make it my life's work, to make you experience a love so exquisite, it will ruin all other partners you may have had in this life," he kept his tone even as he slipped his hand between your bodies and pressed his dampened fingers against your clit. "Or the next."

"Oberyn," you gasped quietly, raising up as he started to gently move his fingers back and forth. He had been inside of you the entire time and you were practically dripping because of it. Your own wetness soaked the inside of your thighs and dampened his lap as your velvety heat kept his cock tight and warm. You didn't know how much longer you could stand him not fucking you like he had the night before.

"And how are you feeling about my affections now?" He asked.

"Better," you whimpered.

"Better? Hmm, an improvement. I'll just have to keep reminding you until you're confident in them."

His free hand pressed into the small of your back to encourage you to move your hips. Obeying his silent command, you put your hands back on his chest and started to ride his lap. The stretch of him inside of you was still a tight fight due to the lack of movement for so long, and it was one of the most exquisite feelings in the world. Your head hung forward slightly, your hair falling over the front of your shoulder, and you made a soft sound as he pinched your clit. The way the head of him pressed against the sweet spot towards the end of you, made you ache for more. The feeling was intoxicating, addictive, and made you feel powerful in ways nothing else ever would.

“Oberyn--”

“Yes, my love?”

"I am more lovely than your…," you swallowed hard as you forced the squeak from your voice. "Your other lovers."

"What did you say?" Oberyn moved his hand from your slit and grabbed your hips roughly, his tone surprised but still the deep rumble it had been.

"I said," you looked at him through the curtain of your hair before pushing it back and repeating yourself. "I am more lovely than your other lovers. Ellaria and I are lovelier and you will never grow bored of our bed."

“A much better tone.” He smirked, a grin that slowly reached from ear to ear and held a pride that was almost palpable. "And what makes you say that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" You leaned your forehead against his and whispered against his lips. "And whose cunt are you inside of?"

He chuckled quietly and matched your tone. "Hmm, I suppose you're right."

You yelped as he surged forward and kissed you hard, his tongue parting your lips as if he wanted to taste the words you had just said. He fisted his hand in your hair and held your head still as he devoured your mouth and thrust his hips up against yours. Your hands found his neck and moved up to cup his jaw, holding him in place with only a fraction of the strength he held you with.

His neck and face were soft and fragrant from the soaps you had just used to shave him. His beard once again was its normal crisp line that framed the edge of his jaw. He looked every bit the Prince that he was and you wanted him in the same desperate way that you wanted him in King's Landing.

Would that ever go away? Would the burning desire to claim such a powerful entity as your own ever truly leave you? The way Oberyn and Ellaria spoke of each other, it didn't seem so. And now that love included you. A triad of adoration, of burning passion that would follow the three of you to your dying day--you were ready to be consumed by it. You wanted to be consumed, to be devoured, and in their arms it wasn't a terrifying thought.

"Fuck me."

Normally such words fell from your lips, but this time, it was Oberyn that said them.

He purred against your skin as his large hand came down on your ass with a smack spurring your hips into action. You wanted to own him in the way he did you, possess his soul in the way he possessed yours. So if he wanted you to fuck him, you would happily oblige.

"I want your mouth on my tits," you panted as you grabbed him by his dark hair and shoved his face down against your chest. He obeyed, bowing his head to mouth at your breasts. He bit, he sucked, he grabbed handfuls of your chest.

“Like that, sweet girl?” he said, his beard rubbing harshly against your soft skin in a way that made you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him closer.

You leaned your head over his as you continued to ride him relentlessly and he held your hips, pulling you down on his cock over and over. A trickle of warmth started low in your belly as the tip of him brushed the end of you and you held still to preserve the feeling for a moment extra. It was a desperate fuck that was unlike the night before. It was about staking his claim on your body, or perhaps you were staking yours on his.

“Oberyn,” you whined as you felt your body teetering on the edge of its release.

“My body is but a throne for you and Ellaria. To use as you see fit and to sit on as it pleases you,” he looked up at you, his neck straining from the angle and making his voice a breathy plea. “Such a gorgeous woman and you’re all mine.”

“As you are mine,” you leaned down to capture his lips as you breathed your words into his mouth. You gasped and pulled away from his kiss as your orgasm took you abruptly. Your nails pressed into the back of his scalp as you bared down on his lap, enveloping his entire length and holding it inside you in a greedy moment of pure ecstasy.

His arm tightened around you as he cupped your pussy and used his hand to help bring you through the pleasure. You felt the wetness of your release on his fingers and lap as he stood, clutching you to his chest and giving you a moment to clench your legs around him. With a firm kick, he knocked the chair back out of the way and laid you bare on the floor.

“Apologies, but if I don’t fill you up soon, I may go mad,” he braced his arms on the ground next to your head as he rammed himself up inside of you and you pulled his weight down on top of your body.

“We wouldn’t want that,” you moaned as you claimed his mouth just as he claimed you with his release and a groan of pure adoration.

--

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[forcefully-awoken]

this is for @pleasantanathema’s classics collab!

Summary: Hange Zoë is the only interesting person in the small, perpetually rainy town you’ve moved to. They look at you like they want to eat you, too bad it’s just not in the way you want.

Pairing: Hange Zoe x F! Reader, twilight AU

Warnings: Blood, violence, vampire stuff, no sex ):

WC: 2.9k

Hange Zoë was the only interesting person in your new town. A local at the coffee shop you worked at, and the only person to come in and order for other people. Hange paid for several drinks behind themself but never ordered anything to consume. They were fun to watch- incredibly pale, and almost disturbingly still. You knew they came in for you, something that still made you shiver. At first you thought they were simply being polite, but the longer you worked there the more the rumors started to swirl- Hange never spent this much time in town, and never became a regular like they had now.

Hange’s dark eyes (always behind sunglasses, but you swore they were red) were always on you, and the locals all knew it.

It’s been a little over three months since you moved, and one since you first saw Hange. You took their order every day but had yet to say so much as a hello to them outside of work. Still, you felt like they were the closest thing to a friend you had in town, something that would have depressed you otherwise.

It’s closing time, one of the few times you’ve had to close the little shop, and rain is pouring down so hard you wonder if it’s even worth it to leave. Maybe you should just sleep in the back room? Walking out right now would leave you soaked, you might even get a cold and you really can’t afford to miss work.

You close the door to the back, stepping to the front, and are so lost in thought you almost miss it- Hange is in their regular seat, waiting in the dark, for you. There’s a sharp spike of fear that blooms in your chest- you know you locked the front door. How the hell did they get inside without you noticing?

“Would you like a ride home?” Hange’s low voice cuts through the darkness to you and- there, red eyes are staring at you. There’s no sunglasses to hide behind now, and you can see them clear as anything in the dark. You know you should run screaming the other way, the logical part of you is yelling that this is how every horror movie starts, but when your mouth opens you find yourself saying yes.

The front door is still locked, you have to unlock it to let the two of you out, and before you can ask Hange slips a key from their pocket with a wink.

“Friends with the owner,” They explain, “I doubt he remembers giving it to me, though. Erwin’s always been a little forgetful.” That brings you up short- the place is family run, has been for generations.

Erwin Smith was the man who started the little coffee shop. Approximately seventy years ago. Perhaps Hange was thinking of someone else, or had known the man when he was still alive? Your brain rushed to try and rationalize away the comment.

“Thank you,” You finally think to say once inside of the car, holding your hands in front of the heater, trying to warm up. Hange was parked right out front, but still the rain chilled you to the bone. “I don’t have a car. It would have sucked to walk home in this.”

“That’s why I offered,” Hange replies, smoothly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the town’s one main street. “You always have so many more layers on than the others, something that you wouldn’t do without a longer walk.”

“Have you been watching me?” Your question is meant to be light, teasing, but the returning smile Hange gives you is anything but. It’s predatory, but the shiver you give now isn’t from the cold at all. Hange turns the heat up anyways, until you find yourself shedding the first of your many layers.

It probably should concern you that you don’t have to tell Hange where your apartment is, but it is a small town and people gossip. Old Mrs. Jaeger was the only person who had anything to rent in this area, for miles around. It wouldn’t be too hard to put two and two together.

“This is me,” You needlessly announce, trying to put your jacket back on in the car. Hange turns the car all the way off but the doors don’t unlock. Instead they reach over, hands brushing yours, making you jerk back. Hange is cold, worryingly so. You open your mouth to say something, but then Hange is right there, their face so close it makes your head swim. You swear you can feel their lips brush over yours, right as they zip your jacket up over you again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hange says, and now you know you can feel their lips against yours. It’s too much, you can’t think, or breathe, or focus on anything that’s not pressing yourself into them more. Hange’s fingers grip the fabric of your jacket even tighter, and you think you hear a ripping sound. It’s a chaste kiss, all things considered, but it leaves you reeling, your head dizzy. Hange pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes, never breaking contact as they lean over to open your door for you.

“Until tomorrow,” You agree, the rain hitting you and pulling you from your revere. You finally look away from Hange, running up the creaky stairs to your apartment as fast as you can. When you turn back at the door, the car is already gone.

Your lips tingle for the rest of the night, and you feel eyes on you until you’re fast asleep.

With your closing shift behind you, it’s your day off. The sun shining through the slats of the blinds wake you, pulling you out of sleep at the early hour of ten. You stretch, feeling well rested for the first time in a while. Rolling over, you almost fall back asleep before you remember Hange’s words from the night before- what did they have planned that they would see you today?

The thought has you scrambling for your phone, but there’s no messages or missed calls waiting for you. Which makes sense- after all, small town gossip doesn’t mean Hange will have your number. Still, you pull yourself from the bed, showering and taking extra care to get ready. Despite the sun it’s still rather cold out, and you throw on a sweater to be warmer, cooking up a small breakfast. You nearly burn yourself when you hear the text notification go off in the other room.

It’s Hange, somehow, and the message is brief.

Meet me in the clearing behind Mrs. Jaeger’s, one hour. I have something I need to show you.

It’s hard not to get too excited after that. You know the little clearing they’re talking about, it’s about a mile away from where you are now, but surrounded by trees, and with all the rain from the night before it’s going to be tough to get there. You eat breakfast so fast you do end up burning your mouth, but it’s worth it. You have to pull out some worn boots that are kicked under your bed, that are a little too snug now.

The walk itself isn’t bad- the air smells amazing, sun is shining down on you, and somewhere you can hear birds chirping. You end up at the clearing a little before the hour is over, but you appear to be alone. There’s a tree stump near where you entered, perfect for sitting you decide, and ignore the way you can feel water seep into your jeans. When you check the time on your phone you see there’s no service.

“Hello there,” Hange’s voice is right next to your ear, and you fall off the stump you’re sitting on into the muddy ground with a shrill scream. Hange isn’t even near you when you turn to look at them- hidden in the shadows of the tree line, but your heart still races ahead. There’s sunglasses back on their face now, oddly colored eyed hidden from you but you know they’re trained on you still.

“Hange!” You greet them, wiping yourself off as much as you can when you stand back up. “That was… scary.” Hange’s head tilts back, a rich laugh spilling from their lips, and then and there you decide it’s your new favorite sound in the universe. Hange doesn’t make any move to come towards you though, and you have to ask, “Why did you want to ask me here?”

“Do you believe in the supernatural?” Hange’s question takes you off guard, and you give a quick shake of your head, opening your mouth to reply but they cut you off, “Why not?”

“Why would I?” You had to hesitate, though, not having given the question too much thought before, you words coming out slowly as you continue on, “I haven’t been given any reason to.” Hange laughs again, and you find yourself feeling thrilled to have pleased them even a little.

“What a wonderfully mortal response,” Hange’s reply leaves you even more confused, but you’re taken aback when they pull their sunglasses off, and you can see their eyes are a vibrant shade of red now. Hange takes a step towards you, and you find your feet moving to take a step back automatically. One step towards you, and another back from them. The sunlight catches their forehead, and you blink several times in a row, trying to believe what you’re seeing.

Hange steps fully into the light, and their skin shines, more than just an incredible beauty routine will do. They look ethereal, like something otherworldly, something you would only see in a movie. Their smile is soft, the kind you give to a child.

“I’ll ask you again,” Their voice carries over to you, though you’re not sure you see their lips move, “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

“I think I’m starting to,” Your mouth moves before your brain can catch up, and there’s a glint in Hange’s eyes that’s not soft at all. Before you can blink they’ve moved, and they’re right there in front of you. One soft, deathly cold hand comes up to cup at your cheek, and you lean into it without thinking, eyes drifting shut.

“Do you trust me?” Hange’s voice is so sweet, you think, no matter what they are this can’t be wrong, surely it’s a dream anyways, you’ll wake up back in bed when you can open your eyes. You nod your head, not trusting your voice to speak. Hange lips press to yours, briefly, and then you hear them murmur out a thank you.

Before you can ask what they’re thank you for, your whole world explodes into pain.

There is only pain in your world now.

It’s a supernova, ripping through you with a scary efficiency. You can’t tell up from down, or even if you’re awake. Fuck, you can barely tell if you’re even still alive. You can’t see, you think someone might be screaming but it’s far off you can’t be sure. you don’t even know how long it’s been like this- your only memories are of this pain, and it seems to be never ending.

And then- and then you feel it, your foot brushes the soft fabric of your blanket in your bedroom. It feels familiar because it is- the same blanket you’ve used for the past decade and a half of your life, the one that rested on your parents bed before it became yours. You’d know this fabric anywhere, anytime. That’s how coming back to yourself starts- you feel your bedding, and then the clothes touching you, the air. Somewhere your air conditioner is chugging away, someone nearby watches cartoons.

It takes days, maybe weeks, you have no way of tracking the time. Slowly your breathing starts to steady, you start to remember where you are, who you are, who you were with. You get feeling back in all your extremities, and despite all the pain you suffered through you somehow feel better than ever now. Your eyes pop open- or maybe they were the whole time?

You room looks the same- but sharper, clearer somehow. It’s like the world is just… better now. When you take a deep breath you can smell everything- Mrs. Jaeger is making chicken noodle soup downstairs, there’s freshly washed clothes hanging outside. You can hear everything. All your senses have been heightened and yet somehow-

“Hello,” Hange’s voice takes you by surprise. You crouch, actually crouch, behind your bed, hissing at them. They hold their hands up in surrender. “Easy there, don’t take my head off.”

“What did you do to me?” Your voice is melodic, the same beautiful timbre of Hange’s own now. “What happened?”

“I turned you into a vampire,” The sheer nonchalance that Hange says this with leaves you trembling. You can vaguely remember them… biting you before there was pain.

“I’m like you?” Your voice sounds so loud even though you’re trying to keep it at a whisper.

“God, I hope,” Hange replies, still cool and casual, “That was my plan, at least.”

“I- what?” You start, break off when a new smell distracts you, a soft sound accompanying it- Mrs. Jaeger is bringing you soup, walking up the stairs to your apartment.

Your throat burns now, like you’ve never had a sip of water in your life. It burns and burns, and you close your eyes to take a shuddering, deep breath and when you open your eyes the burning is gone.

In front of you, on your bed, lies your landlady, Mrs. Jaeger. Her throat has been ripped out, and blood is staining every surface of your room. You, yourself, are covered in it. Hange is covered in it as well, looking all too delighted despite the macabre scene in front of you. You feel almost high, like you’re floating, and there’s a strange fullness.

“What have I done?” Your voice is a hoarse whisper, cracking out of you. “Oh, god.”

“Well, there’s certainly no going back now!” Hange announces, clapping their hands together. “Not after you murdered a beloved old woman.” You’re left speechless as Hange licks up some of the blood off their wrist, tongue trailing up through to their fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on but still a shudder runs through you, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Kinda fucked up to get turned on at a time like this, you know?” Hange smiles, taking a step towards you, and like before you take another step away. “I mean, I am, but I know I’m fucked up.”

“I’m not- this isn’t- what’s wrong with me?” It’s all to easy to pitch yourself forwards into Hange’s arms, feeling the sticky blood on their hands as they wrap around you.

“We should go,” Hange whispers into your hair, “You were loud. Someone will come.”

“Good!” You sniffle out, “I should be arrested, or staked, or something!”

“Darling girl,” Hange presses a soft kiss through your temple, and the sensation of their lips on your skin rips through you like lightning, “You’ll kill them all without blinking.”

Hange leads you slowly from your room, to the bathroom where they help you out of the stained clothes you wear. You have no shame when you bear your body to them, not when all you can focus on is the blood swirling down the drain. You feel their hands on you, but their skin isn’t cold anymore.

It feels like yours.

You dress, in clothes that look familiar but feel awful on your skin. You look around your room, seeing it in new eyes, all the dust you had missed in cleaning, the tiny cracks in the ceiling that had been invisible to you before. Everything was overwhelming about it now, and before you would have been tired, exhausted by the world but now? Now all you could do is drown in the sensation.

“Let’s go,” Hange says from your doorway. Their car isn’t there, but they grab hold of your hand, twining your fingers with theirs. When they tug you forward, back into the woods, it’s at a sprint, and you find yourself outpacing them quickly. It feels like you’ve only been running a few minutes but when you stop the air feels different- part of your brain tells you it’s bitterly cold now but you don’t feel it. You’ve stopped in front of a small log cabin, and you can see that all the lights are off.

“Where are we?” You ask as Hange opens the unlocked door. They turn on a light, and the room comes into view. There’s a bed in one corner, but the rest of the room is covered in bookcases, the shelves filled to the brim, with some books piled on the floor. In the middle of the room was a desk, piled with papers.

“My home,” Hange replies, smirking at your annoyed look, “Somewhere in Canada, a place like this doesn’t really exist on a map.”

Canada, then. Your first international travel and it’s illegal. You lived in the Pacific Northwest before, so depending on how far into Canada you were, you had traveled a few hundred miles in only a few moments. You sat on the bed to process it while Hange took a seat at the desk.

“Now that we’re alone, we can begin,” Hange turns towards you, “I wanted to start before, but well, there was that whole mess.”

“Start with what?” You find yourself almost afraid to ask.

“The rest of your immortal life, of course.” Hange smiles once more, and you feel something inside of you resign quietly, a light being snuffed out.

[missjaystone]

Familiar Faces

Summary: Sam sets out to find his soulmate after his dream life wound up being just that, a dream. He just wants to find his happy ever after. Word Count: 3,930 Pairing(s): Sam Wilson x Reader Warnings: Death (mentioned), Smut, Rough(ish) sex

(This is the sequel to ‘Old Faces’, please read that one first)

Sam didn't tell anyone what happened in his dream if you could call it that; now that he was awake and knew none of that ever happened, it felt like a nightmare or a cruel joke. He dug through old boxes for close to two hours before he found what he was looking for; a box with a handful of pictures from the time he spent with you and Riley before they shipped out. You'd sent the pictures to them not long after they left, he kept them along with the letters you wrote them in a little lockbox. He always kept the key for it on his keychain. He scrambled to look at different letters and pictures for your address, he knew it was on there somewhere.

Half an hour and a dozen groans of frustration and he finally found it! '3197 N 10th St, Washington DC', it was written clear as day and he could recognize your handwriting from a mile away; it was always a little slanted to the side and it was usually smudged in at least three places because your hand always ran across it when you wrote or went back to dot your i's and cross your t's. "FRIDAY, can you look up the owner of 3197 North 10th st in Washington, DC? And their contact information?" He called out to the AI. There was a confirmation sound before it answered in 20 seconds "it's owned by Richard and Owen Johnson." He frowned some "can you look up anyone named y/f/n y/l/n in DC?" Another sound before the AI answered him "there are two thousand four hundred thirteen people with that name." He groaned "how many of them went to the FBI academy in Quantico?" "None," the AI said almost immediately. "Open the search nationwide-no, global, then crosscheck it with anyone who served or actively serves as a special agent with the FBI or any of America's agencies," he ordered, he was getting nervous. His mind started to wander; what if something awful happened to you? The AI's voice broke him out of his thoughts "there is one person in the United States that fits that criteria."

"Where? Where is she?" Sam asked excitedly. "Records indicate she lived in New Haven, Connecticut the past year but a rental application for an apartment in Greenwich Village can be found as well, both dated within the past two weeks." Sam's hopes were quickly rising as he wrote the new address down. "Where's the closest VA office to her apartment?" Sam finally asked after debating. He couldn't just show up on your doorstep out of the blue, but showing up at the VA in the hope you'd go there like any other veteran wouldn't be so weird would it? He'd look the place up online and find a meeting schedule later, now he just wanted to go back to sleep for a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After visiting the VA for two weeks, and no sign of you, Sam was beginning to lose hope and get worried again. Steve encouraged him to go out for a drink with him and Bucky if only to distract him for a night. Bucky all but dragged him with them when Sam said he'd rather not. On the car ride to the bar, Sam figured a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt, what's the worst that could happen. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer, looking around the crowded bar curiously. He'd only been there for ten minutes when he decided to get out for some fresh air, slipping away from his friends while they were briefly distracted. He didn't know where it was taking him but he followed the part of his brain that told him to walk down the street. Maybe he followed his mind, hoping the pull would somehow lead to you. He wanted nothing more than to believe that soulmates had a special bond that pulled them together, maybe that's just what he needed to think to stay sane.

He needed to believe all the stories he heard growing up about soulmates being pulled together, about how nothing could keep them apart from one another. He may have denied it initially but he was well past that. No other woman he saw made him feel the way you did; he knew they never could. He started walking past a park but stopped, not giving it a second thought when his mind told him to go in. With it being almost 9 on a weeknight, he wasn't surprised the park was devoid of kids and adults. Then he saw the figure sitting on top of the monkey bars and he smiled to himself.

"Little late to be out isn't it?" He asked when he stopped a couple of feet behind the figure. "Says the man who's also out at this time," was the reply, accompanied by a quiet laugh. "I had a dream you were here, you know," Sam admitted sheepishly. If it wasn't so dark out and he wasn't behind you, you would've seen his blushing face "I mean, not here exactly, I had a dream you were in New York. I've been looking just about everywhere for you." "Work keeps me busy, I've technically lived here for two weeks but I've only spent about three days in town," you answered. "Understandable," he said with a quiet, nervous laugh. A silence filled the space around you both. Sam knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He sighed quietly and bit his lip "I'm sorry I disappeared on you after we lost him. You needed someone to lean on and it should have been me. I shouldn't have let my own emotions consume me and leave you in the dust," he finally said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam, losing him was as huge for you as it was for me. I was never mad at you; your feelings were your own and you did what was best for yourself. I can't be mad at you for taking care of yourself," you told him, finally looking over at him. He started to argue but you knew what he'd say "I mean it, Sam. I don't ever want you to feel bad for taking care of yourself. You knew what you needed, I knew what I needed and that's that." "I thought you blamed me for his death though, I should've-" he started to argue. You shushed him "people always want to find someone to blame when things go wrong, even if that person is themselves, it's supposed to make it easier to accept I think, because if someone is to blame, then a bad thing didn't just happen, it had a reason behind it. There's nothing you could have done to save him, you were both doing your jobs. I know you think it's your fault but it isn't, Sam, and I never thought otherwise."

Sam smiled, he felt like a weight he didn't even know he carried had been lifted. He'd heard it before but it only ever took away part of the blame he felt. Hearing it from you made it feel true, you saying it made him believe it. He felt like he could breathe again. "You know, I didn't want you to be my soulmate," he said, eyes widening immediately in embarrassment. That's not how he wanted it to come out. "Ouch," you mumbled but held back a laugh. You'd seen him nervous before, it was usually a little entertaining. "I mean I did! Don't get me wrong, god I wanted it but I always worried I'd be too old for you, you know. I didn't want you to get stuck with someone old enough to be your young dad, I thought maybe you'd be able to find someone closer to your age, someone who wasn't friends with the guy who basically raised you," he rambled quickly.

You rolled your eyes and let out a laugh before leaning over the edge of the monkey bars until you were hanging upside down, face to face with him "why would I do that? I didn't have a bond with anyone else the way I did with you. Age be damned, I was an adult when we met, and I was and am more than capable of making my own choices." "Maybe I was just too scared of being rejected then. Do you know how much it's supposed to hurt when your soulmate rejects you?" He asked with a small hum, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek.

"Oh please, who in their right mind could reject you?" You asked and flashed a small smirk. "God you're a pain," he said jokingly before stepping forward and planting his lips on yours in a gentle kiss. It had a passionate, longing feel to it, like it was something you'd both been waiting for ages for it. Your hanging upside down made it a little awkward but that didn't deter either of you. You tried to pull him closer, only to struggle; you lightly shoved his chest when he laughed. "So, I'm not getting rejected right?" Was the first thing he said when your lips separated. His tone was joking but even in the dark, you could see the nervous look on his face. "I'd never reject you, Sam; I love you," you told him, looking directly into his eyes so he knew you meant it.

He beamed a bright grin, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone softly "I love you too, I wish it hadn't taken so long for this to happen, for us to finally end up together." "Me too, Sam," you were grinning from ear to ear as you looked at him. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He asked happily. "I'd like that a lot, maybe you can tell me what you've been up to and why two men are staring at us," you stated with a grin. When he gave you a confused look, you nodded past him where two men were stood at the park's entrance, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant and acting like they weren't trying to eavesdrop. "Shoo!" Sam yelled when he looked back at them. He let out an exasperated sigh and an embarrassed chuckle "just a guy who ripped my steering wheel out of my car while I was in it and another guy who likes to show off by frequently running past me. Don't worry, they're just lonely old men, I promise they won't always be around to watch like that." You laughed and grinned "well I can't wait to hear those stories."

When the blood rushing to your head became too much, you finally got off the monkey bars and stretched. You didn't hesitate to kiss him, this time wrapping your arms around him. His own arms were around your waist in an instant, drawing you close until you were flush against his chest. This one was sweeter than before, it was calm and comforting. "How about we go grab a bite to eat right now? There's a pretty good burger place open until midnight a block and a half away," he offered. "Then what're we still doing standing here?" You asked sarcastically, a teasing smile on your face as you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. "That's my girl," he laughed to himself and begin walking with you. "By the way, was that Captain America watching us?" You asked after walking in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. "Yup, unfortunately," Sam chuckled. "So you're either a superhero or some kind of terrorist now?" You teased. "Yeah, but if I tell which one I'd have to kill you," he said with a playful nudge to your side. "Right," you said sarcastically, both of you immediately bursting into laughter. Life felt right. You felt happy for the first time since your godfather's death.

The walk was quick and since it was almost 9:30 at night, almost nobody else was there so you got your food quickly. "So, we're fighting this guy in an airport, and I swear I don't think he's ever been in a fight before because he is so damn talkative. I mean it, he won't shut up. Anyway, he shoots this white substance at us, which in and of itself is unsettling and we're stuck on the ground. He's still talking and it's like a villain's monologue except it wasn't terrifying, it was annoying. I call in Redwing and he just launches this guy out the window and then Bucky says 'you couldn't have done that sooner' and I so badly wanted to smack him or at the very least send him flying through a window," Sam explains, rolling his eyes dramatically while you laughed, having to put down your burger so you didn't take a bite and choke. "And Bucky's the one who ripped your steering wheel out, right?" You asked, just to be sure. "Yup and every day with that dumbass is a test," Sam laughed and grinned. "Well, it's a good thing you have experience with dumbasses, huh?" You asked jokingly. "You know I do, baby."

You and Sam actually wound up staying at the place until they closed at midnight. Once you left, you two just began walking around, savoring each other's company and getting close again. "You wanna go back to my place? It's not that far from here," you offered with a smile. "Really? I thought you lived in Greenwich, I saw the apartment application online," he admitted before coughing and clearing his throat; he really didn't want to mention how much information he looked up online. "I applied to it but found a place here in Manhattan I liked better," you'd question him later about that little tidbit of information he had.

True to your word, the walk to your home was only fifteen minutes tops. "Sorry about all the boxes everywhere, I'm still unpacking everything," you apologized with a sheepish smile as you closed the front door behind you. "I've seen worse, baby, don't worry about it," he said with a casual shrug and a smile. Another silence fell upon you as you looked at each other. Even being together, there was still a pull and you both felt it. He gently pulled you to him and kissed you. This time, the kiss was desperate and hungry, consuming both of you. He held you by your hips, keeping you as close as physically possible. Your arm wrapped around his neck while your free hand cupped his cheeks as the kiss became more heated. It was like you suddenly couldn't get enough of each other.

When Sam finally broke away from the kiss, a small groan leaving his lips as he looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes "where's your bedroom?" "Down the hall, last door on the left," you mumbled, already dragging him down the hallway as you spoke. You'd taken two steps into the room when he picked you up and semi-gracefully tossed you onto the bed. He quickly moved to cover your body with his, caging you beneath him as he attacked your neck with kisses and a few soft bites. There was an urgency in both of your movements as you each hurried to undress the other while trying to keep as little space as possible between your bodies.

Soon, clothes were strewn across the bedroom; your bra was thrown over the lamp on your bedside table, his boxes landed in front of your dresser with his pants not far away. His fingers delved deep into your core and moved slowly, the little moans and gasps of pleasure spurring him on. The way his fingers repeatedly grazed over those spots you had trouble reaching even with your best toys had you melting underneath him. He watched with a proud, adoring smirk as he brought you right up to the edge before stopping and pulling his fingers out. He chuckled when you groaned in frustration, looking up at him pleadingly "Sam!"

"Hm?" He asked, a small teasing smirk on his face as he slowly licked them clean. You narrowed your eyes for a second before returning a teasing smirk of your own "either fuck me yourself or I'll use one of my toys while you sit in a corner." Sam tried to hide the way his eyes widened briefly "you wouldn't dare." You nodded with a smug smile on your face "well, my friend got me a new thrusting vibrator as a joke gift and I haven't had time to use it yet." You looked at each other in a silent staring contest, daring the other to do something. "God damn it, I can't tell if you're bluffing," he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours in a fervorous kiss which you were more than happy to return.

Sam haphazardly wrapped your legs around his waist and after impatiently lining his member at your entrance, he slowly thrust into you. You both let out groans of pleasure, your head falling back onto the pillow while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He started dragging his hips slowly, just savoring the feeling of being with you in a way so intimate he thought he'd only dream it. Once he got more comfortable, he set a slow pace, savoring the feeling of each slow drag of his hips. Your soft moans were music to his ears, and knowing that he was the cause made his heart swell. "I love you so much," your voice was soft and breathy, he could tell you were right there with him on cloud 9. You looked so peaceful as he slowly fucked into you and if he could take a picture, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted from the pure bliss you felt. If only your eyes were open, you'd have seen the switch that flipped in his mind when you softly moaned his name.

When he got comfortable, he slowly pulled his hips back until the tip was just barely in before slamming back into the hilt, smirking at the loud moan you let out. He moved his hips fast now, making sure to reach the innermost depths of your cunt with each stroke of his cock. "F-fuck, S-sam!" You almost screamed when he started roughly playing with your clit. He smirked down at you, eyes completely dark now as he asked: "yeah, you think a toy can do this? Can a piece of plastic fuck you this way?" He pinched your clit when you took too long to answer him, making your words hitch in your throat, his hips pistoning into you brutally. You quickly shook your head while your nails dug into his shoulders, a quiet 'no' leaving your lips as you shook your head. "Louder, I want everyone to hear it, I wanna hear you tell everyone who fucks you this good," his voice was becoming husky and his thrusts came harder, punctuating every few words.

"You, Sam! No-no toy can fun me like this!" You shouted, body beginning to shake as your orgasm quickly crept closer. "Yeah? Who's girl are you, huh? Don't you dare cum until I say so," He demanded, grabbing your jaw and making you look directly into his eyes. "Yours, Sam! I'm yours!" You choked out, a low whine following your words while a few tears of pure pleasure ran down your cheeks. "Who owns your cunt, baby? Scream his name so all of New York knows and then you can cum all over my dick," he demanded again, squeezing your jaw slightly. His own hips were stuttering as he did everything he could to hold back. "Sam!" You screamed his name like a prayer before being blinded by white-hot pleasure as you came undone beneath him. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he came, his face falling to your chest as his hips rolled slowly. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest before he reluctantly pulled his softening member out of you and collapsed next to you.

He watched your panting form for a few moments before he got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned with a damp rag, he moved the covers away and gently cleaned your combined arousal from between your legs, frowning some at the way your body jolted at his touch. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked nervously. You shook your head, sending him a lazy smile "no, no I'm fine, Sam." "Are you sure? Because I know I got a little rough. I have no idea where that came from, I just-when you moaned my name it set something off I guess," he rambled with a nervous frown still on his face. With a quiet groan, you made yourself sit up so you could look at him. You cupped his cheeks and smiled "that was the best sex I've ever had, I'm fine, just a little sore because it's been a while." "How long?" He asked curiously before he could stop himself. You laughed some "three years, like I said work keeps me busy." He smiled and laid down, carefully pulling you with him "that makes both of us, baby."

The way he slowly rubbed your back made you melt in his embrace, sighing happily. He planted a soft kiss to your temple and yawned "I love you so much, (y/n). There's no place I'd rather be in this moment, or ever again." "I love you too, Sam, so damn much," you whispered, eyes falling shut as you snuggled close to him. A comfortable silence filled the room but only for a minute before Sam spoke again "wait, are you on anything?" You shook your head "we'll deal with that in the morning, I don't have the energy right now."

He fell silent but you could feel his eyes on you. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, you couldn't quite read the expression on his face "what?" He bit his lip in thought, debating on whether to say what was on his mind "well, what if we didn't deal with it?" "What?" You asked him, your confusion evident. "I'm just saying, what if we didn't deal with it, y'know. What if we just let whatever happens happen?" He suggested sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Sam, are you suggesting that we-?" You asked, your brain unwilling to find and utter the words. "Look, (y/n), I spent all these years without you and now I feel like I have to make up for lost time. Don't worry, I'll respect if you aren't ready or don't want that. I just want you to know that's where I'm at," he said softly, absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

You'd never given much thought to family life but thinking about it with Sam, having children and raising a family together, it sounded appealing. It suddenly felt like something you couldn't live without. You pecked his lips softly before resting your head back on his chest, closing your eyes "let's just go to sleep and see what happens in the weeks to come." You could hear the fondness in his voice when he spoke "if it's a boy, can we name him Paul after my dad?" "Obviously, now turn the light off and go to sleep," you mumbled tiredly, earning a tired, quiet laugh.

[emwritesfootball]

I Want You | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

Word Count: 2,051

A/N: Yet another piece for @footballffbarbiex's On The Big Screen Challenge. Since I'm on the midseason finale of the episode of Grey's Anatomy that this is based off of, I figured I'd post this now. This is based off of Jackson and April, the scenes from the season 9 finale and season 10 episode 12, altered for the football world. I've had this sitting in my Docs since 1 January lmao. Enjoy xx

- - -

The gasp of the crowd of almost 40,000 at Goodison Park was simultaneous in the 38th minute when Dom was taken down by the opposition’s defense right as he was about to score. The tackle had been brutal and uncalled for, earning the centreback a straight red card from the referee while Dom stayed on the ground.

As if sensing catastrophe the medics and physio were on the pitch almost immediately. You held your breath, one hand clutching the fabric of the Everton jersey you wore while your other squeezed Lucas Digne’s hand. Your boyfriend tried to soothe you as best he could, but you were distraught. Dom was clearly in pain and clearly injured, and you couldn’t do a damn thing but watch him get carried off on a stretcher.

“I have to go to him,” you muttered, but Lucas stopped you.

“He’ll be fine, Chérie,” Lucas said, his voice low as his thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand. “You know we’ve got the best medical team - they’re gonna take real good care of Dom, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip to quell your unspoken fears.

Your mind was reeling as Richarlison took Dom’s place on the pitch, your stomach sick with nervousness for Dom. When you’d first started playing for the women’s team, Dominic had been your sidekick; he’d shown you around the stadium as well as the surrounding city. It hadn’t been long before you were falling for him, the two of you hooking up after an intense friendly between the men’s and women’s teams.

Over time, you’d started to fall for him, your friends-with-benefits relationship no longer enough for your heart. It had all gone wrong after a pregnancy scare - Dom telling you he was all in and saying he’d marry you and the two of you would raise the kid together. When you’d found out you weren’t pregnant and told him that he no longer had to worry about getting married, Dom had ended things then and there, both of you hurt for different reasons.

Soon after, he started “dating” (sleeping with) one of the physios. You hadn’t had any intention of getting involved with his teammate, but Lucas had come into your life as a friend while you’d been with Dom and things progressed after your break up. Now, you were engaged to Lucas, with a wedding coming up in less than six months - after an incredibly public proposal that you couldn’t say no to - but there was a part of your heart that still yearned for Dom.

The second Lucas let go of your hand, you were up out of your seat, flashing your pass as you raced through the tunnels at Goodison Park until you finally managed to locate Dom. The ambulance was silent while its lights flashed and you knew you didn’t have much time. Emergency personnel were loading him onto the ambulance and you were reacting within seconds.

“DOMINIC!” you shouted, panic racing through you. His name felt foreign on your tongue - you tried not to utter it if you could help it - but in that moment, it was all you had.

“Miss, you’re going to have to stand back,” one of the EMTs said, putting his hands on your shoulders.

The tears started to fall right then and you couldn’t stop them. “I...I need to see him. He’s my husband!” You stammered out the words in-between sobs, barely aware when the medic let you go and you rushed into the ambulance, the door slamming behind you as it lurched forward and started to race to the nearest hospital. You tried your best to stay out of the way while the medics worked, fighting back tears with every concerned look or sentence they shared with each other. Dom looked out of it and you hoped he’d been put on some painkillers, especially with the state of his arm. You hoped and prayed that his arm would be the worst of it, but you couldn’t be sure. You took his good hand in both of yours, pressing a kiss to the back of it as you whispered, “It’s okay, bubs. I’m here.”

***

People didn’t start arriving until almost two hours later, Dom’s girlfriend included. You didn’t know how many tears you’d cried in that timespan, your body physically exhausted from the day’s events. Lucas immediately found you in the waiting area, pulling you into a hug. “I was so worried about you, Chérie,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“S-Sorry,” you stuttered, feeling a new wave of tears coming on. “I just...I panicked and managed to convince them to let me ride in the ambulance with Dom and I…”

“It’s okay,” Lucas said, taking your face in his hands. “I’m glad Dom had you by his side.” Of course Lucas knew about your history with Dom but you’d always reassured him that he was the one you wanted and not Dom. Now, you weren’t so sure.

You snuck into Dom’s room right before visiting hours were set to end for the night. Lucas was waiting for you in the car park, warming up the car. A part of you felt guilty for what you were about to do, but after today you couldn’t stay silent.

Relief flooded you when you saw him sitting upright on the hospital bed, shirtless, his arm in a sling. The relief quickly faded, however, and all the other emotions you’d bottled up for the last six hours came bubbling up.

“What the hell, Dom?!” You screamed, rushing toward him. Tears were falling hard and fast as you shoved him, the nurse in the room who was checking his vitals came rushing over to stand between the two of you. “You could’ve died!” Sure, it was a little over-dramatic, but you had honestly thought you were going to lose him in the moment when he’d been down for over five minutes on the pitch.

The nurse calmed you down, not wanting to cause a scene. You didn’t either, but your emotions were so heightened it was almost like you were back in the ambulance scared out of your mind. “I’m fine, I swear,” you said, reassuring her when your breathing had slowed and you were starting to think properly.

“Okay,” she said, nodding and making her way towards the door. She turned to Dom, saying, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Dom gave her a grateful smile, turning his attention to you. “Don’t,” he said, his voice weary. “Whatever it is that’s buggin’ you, just keep it to yourself, alright?”

You froze, staring at him. Your mind was racing again and you were so consumed with flashbacks of him lying motionless on the pitch that you couldn't speak for a few moments. Dom stared back, lost. He vaguely remembered your presence in the back of the ambulance but up until this moment, he had been so sure that he’d just dreamed you up, the painkillers playing tricks on his mind.

You took a deep breath, needing all the air you could get in order to say what you wanted to say. “I want you...Dominic.” His name was barely a whisper on your lips, but Dom heard you as if you’d screamed it from the rooftops. You ran a hand through your hair, your voice breaking as you repeated the phrase. “I want you.” Your voice wavered on the last word and Dom wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

He said your name, disbelief colouring his tone, but you cut him off.

“I haven’t been fair to you, I know,” you began, stepping towards him until you were standing at the end of his hospital bed, “And I’ve-I’ve really hurt you-”

“You’re getting married,” Dominic said slowly, unsure if he was trying to convince you or himself of the reality the two of you were facing.

It was like you hadn’t heard him. “When I saw you lying there on the pitch after that collision and I thought you were gone, I-”

“You’re getting married.” He said it again, this time with more conviction.

You dried your tears, your resolve returning. When you spoke next, your words shocked both of you. “Unless you can give me a reason not to.”

Dom stared at you, unable to say anything. He internally weighed his options. A few months ago, getting married to you was all he could think about - now, he wasn’t so sure. The two of you had been through unbelievable hurdles in your relationship, but you were engaged to another man who also happened to be one of Dom’s teammates and Dom knew he couldn’t stand by and fuck up the team dynamic or your relationship with Lucas.

***

Ultimately, he’d said nothing that night and the two of you hadn’t spoken about it since. You continued planning your wedding to Lucas while maintaining a stilted version of a friendship with Dom, which was how Dom had ended up in the congregation at your wedding.

“Give them the strength to commit their love to one another. Unshakeable through any storm; unbreakable in the face of any stress; a promise we simply refuse to break.” The pastor spoke, but Dominic barely heard any of it, except when he said, “And you, YN and Lucas’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, please respond ‘we will’.”

Everyone responded, a chorus of “We will,” filling the quaint chapel.

Dominic didn't know what to do. He was acutely aware of his physio girlfriend by his side, but even more so aware of the fact that if he didn’t do something right now, he would lose you to his teammate forever. In that moment, nothing else mattered but his love for you and the love that he knew that you had for him.

The pastor continued to speak, but Dom heard nothing. He leaned in to his girlfriend, unsure what to say. “I, uh-” he started, pausing.

“What?” She asked, looking at him with curiosity that quickly turned into understanding.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m happy to be here today to be able to do this for you. I-” The pastor paused mid-sentence as Dominic stood up, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

You and Lucas were holding hands, your backs still to him. Finally, both of you turned to look at the commotion, shock written all over your face as your gaze connected with Dom’s. He flushed, giving the room a nervous smile before sitting back down.

The pastor chuckled nervously and for a brief moment, Dom wondered if he’d ever had anyone stop a wedding before. “YN and Lucas, I have known the two of you for quite some time and I’m happy to be here today-” he started again, and that’s when Dom knew he had to say something.

Dom took a deep breath, his mind made up.

“I love you,” he said, his voice deep and sure as he stood up for the second time. “I always have.”

You stared back at him, your eyes wide. If you were being honest, a part of you had dreamed about a moment like this - Dominic standing up and professing his love for you - but you hadn’t been prepared for it to actually happen.

Dom continued, “I love everything about you. Even the things I don’t like, I love.” You could feel Lucas fuming next to you. “And I want you with me.” Everyone was looking around in disbelief, but it was like nobody else existed but you and Dom in this moment. “I love you and I think that you love me, too.” He paused, his voice wavering. “Do you?”

You could feel Lucas’s eyes on you; your family’s, too, but there was only one person in the world you wanted right now and it wasn’t the man at the altar next to you.

“I do,” you said, your gaze fixed on Dom. “I do,” you repeated, stepping down off the altar and running towards the man who had been your whole world for longer than you cared to admit.

[lumelii]

BREAKING IN ~|~ FUSHIGURO TOJI X FEM!READER

Summary: Your business partner and you are celebrating the end of a difficult project. Lucky you. 

Content Warning: nsfw, smut, fwb situation, FEM!READER established "relationship", dilf!Toji, face fucking, slight degradation, face slapping (just once) (if I forgot any let me know)

Note: Big thank you to Moni and @shokami for being my guinea pigs on this one. 

Word Count: 5.1k

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There were few things Toji liked about traveling for work. He liked seeing new places. He hated long plane rides. Hotels were nice, but sleeping on the mattresses for too long wreaked havoc on his back. He enjoyed making new business connections. Most importantly, however, he hated leaving his kids for long periods.

They were on his mind now, as he checked his phone periodically through the business party he was attending, celebrating the completion of another building Fushiguro Design Group had planned and engineered, this time in New York City. It was almost time for them to go to school in Tokyo, usually one of them called before they left so he knew they were up. His finger paused over the home phone contact for a moment before he put it away with a sigh. Megumi and Tsumiki were both teenagers now, almost in high school. They didn’t need him hovering all the time.

“Congratulations on another success, Mr. Fushiguro.” One of the executives of the company who contracted the firm came up to shake his hand. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“It was a group effort.” His eyes searched the room, hoping to find a distraction to get him out of this conversation before he put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t deal with clients, he had employees who did that. He wasn’t great at curtailing his frustrations when in conversation. Especially with this client, who changed their design at least four times, which meant he had to redo all the math. Four times.

Luckily, his distraction came just a few seconds later as his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he felt a wave of relief seeing his home phone number. At least that meant one of the kids was up. He wasn’t counting on Gojou.

“Please excuse me.” Toji stepped away and walked out onto the balcony just off the ballroom, closing the door securely behind him before answering.

“DAD!” He held the phone away from his ear just slightly when Tsumiki yelled even before he said hello. He brought it back to his ear once he was sure his eardrum wouldn’t be ruptured.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” He answered sarcastically. “How are you? Getting ready for school?”

“Megumi stole my notebook again!”

“I did NOT!” Toji heard Megumi yell in the background.

“It had my homework in it! If I don’t get it back, the teacher is going to dock points!”

“Did you already look in your backpack? Everywhere in your room?”

“No, because Megumi took it!”

“Princess, look in your backpack and your room first. If you can’t find it, have Gojou help you. Now give the phone to Megumi.”

He heard her huff and set the receiver down, yelling for Megumi to get on the phone. A few moments later, the receiver was picked up again. This time, Megumi’s voice. “Hi Dad.”

“I swear to god, Megumi, if you have her notebook and you’re lying about it just to bother her—” Toji warned.

“I’m NOT!” He yelled again. “I was over at Yuuji’s house last night anyway, why would I need her homework when we did ours together?”

“Why weren’t you home last night?” Toji’s eyes narrowed even though his son couldn’t see him. “It’s a school night.”

“Yuuji and I were working on homework. Plus his neighbor made sweets. She sent some home with me. I’ll save you some. Are you coming home soon?” His tone was hopeful. It made Toji’s chest hurt. He missed his family.

“I’m going to be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, I promise.” Toji told him. “Are you ready for school?”

“Not yet. I can’t find my slacks.”

“Look on the right side of your closet, they’re probably in there. Where’s Gojou? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I think he’s still sleeping.” The phone was set down again, and Toji had to wait what felt like forever until he finally heard Gojou grumbling on the other end of the line.

“G’morning sunshine.” He yawned. “What’s up?”

“Are you aware the kids are ready to tear each other’s throats out?” Toji frowned. “And why are you still sleeping? They’re almost ready to leave for school.”

“Kento was on the phone late last night freaking out, I had to calm him down.” Gojou stifled a yawn again. “I made sure they have their breakfast and their school stuff is ready.”

“Tsumiki’s missing her notebook.”

“It was in the living room last I saw, I’ll make sure one of the dogs didn’t take it.”

“I KNEW IT!” Tsumiki screeched in the background.

“Shit, I have to go, Toji. Call later.”

The line went dead before Toji could ask any questions. He looked down at his lock screen with a frown, debating on calling back but ultimately deciding against it while he put his phone away. He would call later once both kids were at school, and keep an eye out for breaking news of fratricide in Tokyo.

He looked to the balcony doors when they opened, relaxing slightly when he saw his preferred distraction walking out with two drinks in hand. 

You closed the door behind you before walking up to him, holding out his favorite, an Old Fashioned. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

He took the proffered drink and downed it in one gulp while you sipped your Gibson carefully. “Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to these kinds of parties, yes. Either you were about to lose your temper and needed a breather, or you had to take a call.” You answered. “Problems at home?”

Toji shook his head. “Just wish we were back.”

“It’s been a month. I can’t wait to get back to Tokyo. No matter what anyone says, no one can beat Tokyo ramen.” You leaned your elbows on the balcony railing. He leaned next to you, copying your pose while you both looked over the glittering New York skyline in silence.

“Why don’t we focus on projects at home for a while?” You offered. “Or in Japan, at least. That way we wouldn’t have to be gone for too long, you’d still be able to go home at night.”

“We have some pretty big clients lined up in Dubai and Europe. I don’t think they’d want to wait until we felt like traveling again.”

“You’re the boss. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” You reminded him with a smile. “I can take someone else with me, then send the specs once we’re done. I’ll even let you pick your stand-in.”

“I’ll pick my stand-in whether you like them or not.” He smirked before continuing. “I’m the boss.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. “Just don’t make it fucking Ren. I can’t stand that asswipe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He promised.

The conversation wasn’t typical between a boss and employee, but you were more than that. You were partners at the firm, Toji was just the one in charge. You’d built the firm together from the ground up, making it the success it was today.

He had come to you, needing an architect for his own firm back when it was only an idea, offering two-hundred million yen out of his personal coffers as an incentive. But it wasn’t the money that had made you say yes. It was the almost maniacal determination in his eyes. He had something to prove, and he would burn the world to the ground to do it.

You learned later his wife had just died a few weeks prior, and it was part of his promise to her on her deathbed that he follow through with his plan of opening his firm. You’d been with him since the beginning, in the early days where you both spent countless sleepless nights completing projects other firms only dared to take on, through the intervention staged by his two closest friends Nanami Kento and Gojou Satoru, as Toji became consumed by his work as a way to suppress his grief, to the point where his son almost didn’t recognize him when he came home. You’d been by his side through the boom of success that befell the firm just a few short years after its founding, along with the money that soon flooded both your pockets, and his second “marriage” to a model he met at a film festival, who promptly disappeared after moving her daughter into his home. He had been surprisingly calm through the whole ordeal, submitting the paperwork to make Tsumiki his own once they were completely certain her mother was never coming back, with a hefty cash incentive and NDA to tie it with a nice bow.

He’d been through a fair amount with you as well, dealing with toxic family that had come out of the woodwork as the company started to increase your wealth, demanding money for so-called “investments” they had made into you by providing basic care until you finally left at fifteen. Through the sudden death of your fiancé, where Toji was the only one who could understand and help you navigate through the unending darkness that consumed your life for almost a year afterwards. He’d ignored some of your questionable choices as you tried to adjust to your new normal, but also was not afraid to step in when necessary if the choices turned destructive. You had thought it was just to protect the interest of the firm, but when he had come to your apartment after a sobbing phone call on the anniversary of your fiancé’s death and held you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, you knew it was because he cared about you.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked after watching the sunset sink below the horizon, breaking you both out of your reflection.

“I’d rather drive an ice pick through my skull.” He admitted. 

You laughed, the sound echoing off the glass windows and empty air around you. “We could always dip.”

“Wouldn’t they be offended, us leaving early?” He turned to face you with one hand on the railing. You ignored the way his suit jacket strained against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mari’s in there, it’ll be fine.” You said, referring to your project manager. “She loves people. She’ll have them eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“If you say so.” He took the empty glass from you, setting it on the railing before taking your hand to thread it through his arm. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

You made a hasty exit from the party, repeating your excuse of an early flight at least a dozen times so no one would hinder your escape. No one bothered to ask follow-up questions. If they had, they might have found out you were flying private back to Tokyo, and the plane could leave whenever you goddamn pleased, obliterating your excuse.

Luckily, the lie held until you were safely in the cab of an elevator, heading up to the floor that held your two hotel rooms. The company had offered the two massive adjacent suites to you both, taking up an entire floor of the newly constructed hotel. Toji probably could have brought his kids if he had wanted, but he didn’t want to pull them out of school for that long. You were happy to have the entire suite to yourself. It meant you didn’t have to listen to neighbors through all hours of the night, and you didn’t have to worry about keeping anyone up when working late at night. 

“The flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” Toji told you as you stepped off onto your floor. “There’s going to be a car to pick us up an hour before.”

“Did you already send your bags with the service?” You stopped just outside your door, directly across the hall from Toji’s. 

He nodded. “I saw yours were ready, I had them sent as well.”

“Thank you.” You looked behind your shoulder to your door then back at him, his hands in his pockets, watching you like he was expecting you to say something else. He looked downright sinful in his all-black designer suit, his normally straight hair styled back with hair gel but still looking soft to the touch. The watch that cost more than most people’s houses glinted in the warm light of the hallway as he played with his cufflinks, also worth a small fortune. You would know. You bought them. 

He quirked his eyebrow at your examination, almost like a challenge. Damn him. 

“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I thought you would never ask.” 

You smiled back and turned to the door, inserting your keycard to hear the small click of the lock disengaging, slipping inside with him closely following. “We haven’t broken in this one, yet.”

He was on you before you had the chance to slip out of your shoes. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him a sense of urgency, the sweet bourbon still on his lips as they slid over yours with a practiced ease, or that you had an early flight in the morning and needed as much sleep as possible to prevent jet lag. If it were the latter, this was definitely not the activity to be participating in.

These liaisons only happened on trips, or late nights at the office or your apartment, where there would be no prying eyes. You both didn’t need questions. It was fulfilling a primal desire, one that burned within you even as both your hearts were locked by grief. There was an understanding. You cared for him, and he for you, but not in a romantic way. You were making sure the needs of a friend were met.

The “breaking in” was also a tradition as well, ever since your first major deal had been completed. When the building was finally complete for a major project, you and Toji would sneak off somewhere to do the deed, christening the building like a bottle of champagne before a ship’s maiden voyage. It had started as a joke, a way to release the pent-up stress that resulted from design and construction but eventually became a tradition. As the business grew over the years, you and Toji had christened well over a hundred completed projects with none the wiser. 

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before moving your hands between your fused bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, working quickly in the tight space as Toji didn’t allow you any room to pull away. You struggled to focus while his kisses moved down to your chin and then your neck, licking and sucking the skin with reckless abandon. You let out a breathy moan as he bit your pulse point with a low growl feeling your heartbeat thrum beneath his teeth. Toji pushed your hands away when his shirt was finally on the floor behind him. He grabbed your face between his hands bringing your attention back to him to kiss you. Ever the multitasker, his tongue explored your mouth while he began his task of getting you naked. 

“Don’t rip the dress.” You warned under his kiss while his large hands grappled for the zipper. “I borrowed it, it has to be in perfect condition.”

“I’ll buy Mei Mei a new one.” Gripping the top of the dress with a hand on each size of the zipper, he yanked hard, the fabric splitting like he had just ripped a sheet of paper as it fell off your body. His eyes went wide as the dress pooled at your feet, revealing the matching black lace set you had underneath. The cups barely contained your breasts and did little to cover your most delicate areas, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed.

You grinned and kneeled in front of him, starting to undo the buckle of his pants. “Paris paid off, then?” 

A sigh fell past his lips as you finally pulled his pants and boxers down, wasting no time to wrap your hand around his thick cock, pumping languidly. His breath hitched as you licked his angry red tip slowly, pulling back to prevent him from pushing past your lips when his hips moved forward. His hand went to the crown of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Shit. You’ve been saving that since Paris?”

“I’ve worn this plenty before. You’ve just never seen it.” Your smirk was devilish. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him to the base, neatly trimmed hair tickling your nose while you forced your throat to relax. You tried to gather as much spit as you could to make the glide easier as you bobbed your head. Toji was a large man with an equally large and impressive dick, almost too much for you to take in. Through years of practice, both on him and several inferior specimens, you had learned just how to hollow your cheeks, how to move, and how to swallow to have a man cumming in minutes flat. 

“Fuck, you okay?” He panted when he thrust involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly. Once you composed yourself, you hummed around his cock and nodded. Grabbing his other free hand, you placed it on the back of your head with his other one before taking him back down your throat. A silent invitation. 

He wasted no time responding, beginning to thrust into your mouth with no reserve. You grabbed his hips to steady yourself as you relaxed and remembered to breathe through your nose. Tears ran down your cheeks while he choked you with his massive cock, mixing with your mascara and staining your skin black. The salty tang of precum hit your tongue, mixing with the saliva that fell from your lips the faster he moved. You smiled around his cock when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough for him to let out a loud groan. 

“Stop.” He growled, pulling you off him and tilting your chin up. He took in your tear-streaked face, your chin and neck covered with a mix of saliva and pre-cum. When he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, you caught it between your teeth, sucking him in and lavving the digit with your tongue. He chuckled darkly, hooking his thumb in your mouth and using it as a guide for you to stand up in front of him. 

“Messy doll.” He crooned. You had to admit, you were shocked as he leaned forward and licked up your neck, tasting both of you on your skin. While you were distracted with his sinful lips, you heard another distinct ripping sound before you felt the cool air of the room against your bare ass. You broke away and looked down to see your panties in tatters on the ground. 

“Can you at least leave one piece of my clothing intact tonight?” You frowned at him, your voice slightly hoarse from his antics. “Those were expensive. I know we’re made of money now, but I’d prefer not to spend it all.”

He ignored you and reached around to plant a firm smack on your cheeks. “In the bedroom. On the bed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but you decided to have a bit of fun as you walked through the massive suite. You could feel his eyes on you, almost predatory when you entered the bedroom and caught sight of the king-sized bed, made with fresh linens and piled high with pillows, accented in the light greys and blacks that matched the rest of the suite. You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, back down, and propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. 

He frowned at your position as he walked forward. “I said on the bed.” He rumbled. 

“I am on the bed.” You played dumb and cocked your head to the side. “What did you mean?”

He shook his head and stopped at the edge, towering over you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” 

“It’s a nice break from those girls that call you daddy, isn’t it?” You purred. 

The growl that ripped through his chest made your heart jump and another wave of arousal coat your lips as he surged forward, gripping your hips to flip you onto your stomach and pull them up so you were on your knees, your throbbing center level with his cock. He ground against you, slipping his length along your drenched labia to coat it, the glide easy as your spit mixed with your slick. He was more than ready to pound into you. 

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he put a hand on your neck and pushed you down so your face was pressed into the mattress. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath on your back and trailing up as he bent over you to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, I was going to be nice, maybe take it slow at first so you wouldn’t be absolutely wrecked sitting for fourteen hours on our flight tomorrow.” He hummed. “But now, I think I’m going to like seeing you squirm.”

It wasn’t even a second later before he slammed into your pussy, the stretch almost painful as you wailed at the intrusion and he began a brutal pace that rivaled his speed while he was fucking your face just moments before. You were already sopping wet from sucking his dick earlier, turned on beyond belief as you thought about what lay in store for you after he was done with your mouth being his personal fleshlight. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He hissed, spanking your ass to feel you clench around his dick. “No one can stretch this cunt as good as I can, can they? You need a fat cock to satisfy you, those skinny dicks can’t even get you wet.” 

You moaned an affirmative, playing along with his narrative as he pistoned his hips into you. You could feel every vein on him as they dragged along your walls, his tip hitting that soft spot inside you with every thrust. There were plenty of other dicks that had gotten you wet, but it was true his was the most impressive, and the one that had more knowledge of just how to make you scream, monster dick or not. He had that advantage over every other man you slept with. 

The slap of his hips against yours echoed through the cavernous room as Toji grabbed your upper arms, pulling them behind your back and forcing your back in arch, his thrust becoming more shallow but no less punishing. You bit your lip to control the noises you were making, but whines still escaped. 

When the new position didn’t produce his desired response from you, he released your arms without any ceremony causing your upper body to fall limp back to the bed. You gasped as Toji pressed his hips flush to yours, curling his body on top of yours with one powerful arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from pulling away while his tip continually massaged your g-spot with every roll of his hips into you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He murmured in your ear, his voice steady without any sign of effort. His stamina was something to marvel. 

“You know how it feels.” You moaned back, unable to control yourself. You were so close, just ready to reach that peak if he would only speed up. You reached back with one hand and gripped his hip hoping that would encourage him to resume his previous pace. 

He took your hand from his hip and put it back near your head, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. The sharp sting of pleasure was what you needed for your back to arch, squeezing around him while you fucked yourself back onto his cock to prolong your climax as much as you could. 

Toji pulled out as you finally slowed down, his heavy cock bouncing against his leg as he sat up against the headboard and patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on. You wasted no time in doing so, raising yourself on shaky legs to straddle his lap. His hands moved to cup your ass as you settled over him, taking his length in hand and sinking down onto it with a sharp exhale through your nose. You could almost feel him in your throat in this position, the stretch still borderline uncomfortable even after he had already stretched you out, coupled with the sensitivity of just having orgasmed. 

His gentle grip turned hard just as you were about to start bouncing to stop your movements. You gave him a confused look but understood when his hands started to guide you in grinding on his lap. The added friction on your clit against his pelvis made you sigh in pleasure, just a tinge of overstimulation creeping through the tightness already building in your stomach again. In this position with the lack of harsh movements he was able to play with your breasts, which he always gave proper worship. 

His large hands made your breasts look small as he covered the left, slipping your nipple between his fingers and rolling it while he cupped the other, pushing it up and licking at the flesh. You sighed at the rough texture of the scar marring his lips against your sensitive skin and wrapped your arms around his head, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. He loved to tease, licking and sucking all around your breasts until you were about to beg, arching your back further into his touch. You hated begging him, hated admitting how well he could affect you. But you had known each other for so long, you knew each other better than anyone else. 

You whined as his lips finally closed around the pert bud, laying the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin. You felt his lips stretch into a smile against your skin at your vocalizations before he moved to your other breast, immediately latching onto the nipple to produce a breathy moan. You knew he was enjoying himself from the way his hips matched each roll of your own, driving deeper as he got lost in the feeling. 

“I got your milkies.” You whispered, part of your sinister trick to bring him back to earth. You were starved for actual friction, grinding not providing the drag on your insides you craved. 

He pulled back with a soft pop and frowned, though his pupils were still blown out. “You did not just say that.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He mumbled, pushing your breasts together to bury his face between them, licking through your cleavage and up your chest.

“Then why are you still hard?” You squeezed down on him deliberately. His eyes grew dark as he looked up at you through thick lashes and you knew you were in for it. 

With one quick movement you were under him, back pressed into the pillows while he kneeled between your legs still holding your waist so he could stay buried inside you, your hips tilted so you were at an angle. You struggled to sit up trying to resume your previous position, but his strong hold on you didn’t allow you any room before he continued burying himself in your velvet walls. You could barely breathe from the force of his thrusts, twice as hard as before but just as fast. 

You could have killed him from how composed he looked as he watched you slowly lose control. He watched you with an almost curious expression, studying how your brow drew together and short gasps fell past your lips while he was barely breaking a sweat. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans. If he wanted them, he’d have to earn them. 

“I know you like taking it from the back, but I think I like this better.” He mused, voice even like he wasn’t balls deep in your cunt. “I can see the look on your face when you lose control.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You gasped, your words stuttering with each of his thrusts. 

“No, that’s your job.” He grinned devilishly and bent down over you, resting on his elbows. “Scream for me, little slut. Let the floors around us know how good I fuck.” 

You opened your mouth to retort but a loud scream came out instead as Toji sneaked his hand between you to roll your clit between two fingers. You barely felt his breath on your skin as you shattered beneath him, screaming just like he wanted as your orgasm crashed over you, ten times as intense as the one he had just given you. You gripped the pillow under your head and turned your face into it so he couldn’t see just how much you were enjoying this. 

In an instant, you felt the pillow ripped from beneath your head and his hand come into contact with your cheek. The sting of his slap was dulled by the pleasure still running over your body as he gripped your chin tightly in one of his large hands, forcing you to look in his eyes, your noses almost touching. Your eyebrows knit together and mouth open on a silent moan made him finally push as far in as he could on a final thrust, painting your inner walls white with his cum as he groaned loudly. The roll of his hips didn’t stop until he deposited every last drop within you, until you could feel his cum leaking out the sides of his dick. How could he cum so fucking much?

His hands turned gentle as he pulled out, smoothing your hair off your sweaty forehead and tracing his fingers over the hickeys he’d left on your neck. He bent down to ghost his lips on your hairline before hauling himself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. You could faintly hear him rummaging around through your post-coital fog, coming back with a warm damp towel and starting the task of cleaning you up. 

While he did, he grabbed the phone from the room and dialed room service, ordering two meals, along with ice cream at your insistence, billing it to his room. Not that it mattered, you were staying here on your host’s dime. When he was done cleaning you, he laid on his side next to you, smiling down fondly as you still tried to catch your breath. 

“You did good.” He whispered, caressing your face. You managed a weak smile and laughed. 

“Don’t get soft on me now, Fushiguro.” You sighed. “I might just lose respect for you.”

He smiled down at you, basking in the afterglow of your liaison. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

Tags: @oikawaandkuroostan, @gummy-dummy