#i made the mistake of looking at this womans eyes

[goldenroutledge]

serendipity

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.0k

prompt: ❛ i'm telling you all of a sudden, but it isn't new with me. i love you. ❜

summary: fluff. in which daniel doesn’t bother to hide his feelings anymore.

a/n: for the lovely @katsu28! thank you so much for requesting <3

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“If you don’t mind me saying, you two make a beautiful couple!” An older woman stops in her tracks to do a double take of you and Daniel dressed to the nines, blending in with the rest of the wedding guests decorated in black tie. Maybe it was the way you brushed a few bread crumbs from his beard or the way he draped his arm around the back of your chair during the meal that made you two appear like any other couple in the room.

“Us?” You question, looking around just to be sure her comment is directed towards you. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time someone made this mistake. “We’re not-”

“Why, thank you!” Daniel interrupts, giddy as ever as he raises his glass. “She is quite the beauty, isn’t she? Makes up for the two of us, I’d say.” Your heart flutters under his gaze, one that’s convincingly lovestruck. He gently squeezes your waist to drive it home, pulling you close.

“Oh, stop it. I don’t think anyone can look bad in Venice, must be something in the water.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, darling.” Daniel muses, turning his attention back to the woman as she smiles fondly. “So humble, this one.”

“You’ll have to excuse him, he’s still suffering from some whiplash and needs his eyes checked.”

“Please, my eyes have never deceived me when it comes to you. You’re stunning.” His tone is sincere, and if you didn’t know he was putting on a charade, you’d believe him. Still, your cheeks are growing undeniably warm, regardless if he actually means it or not. Daniel’s always been a flirt.

“Just trying to keep up with you.”

“Maybe you two will be next.” The woman wonders out loud, a playful glint in her eyes as she winks at Daniel, leaving the two of you to enjoy the reception. He doesn’t miss a beat, feeling no need to acknowledge what just happened.

You, however, can’t brush this one under the rug. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Daniel questions, playing clueless.

“Either I hit my head earlier or you just told that lady we’re a couple. You do realize you just lied to an old lady right?”

“I prefer the term method acting.” Daniel quips, all the more amused at your very unamused expression. “Come on, two great looking people together at a wedding? My jacket matches your dress? We’re not exactly avoiding the assumptions.”

“And that was purely coincidence, might I remind you.”

Daniel rolls his eyes playfully at your recollection of the morning. The look on your face when you first realized the matching colors was priceless. It won’t be the last stunt he pulls off, for now he’ll let you believe it really was a coincidence. “Oh please, you love it.”

You shrug, indifferent to what he’s insinuating. At least that’s what you hope he receives from it. Internally you wince every time you have to shut down his relentless positivity with another cold shoulder. “Your performance was convincing, I’ll give you that.”

“Just don’t wanna let anyone down. She’s not the first person to say something y’know, we might as well just accept our fate now.”

You avoid his eyes, finding the drink in your glass to be the safer of the two options. Whenever you do lock eyes with him, you can’t be held responsible for what you might say. Confronting the spark between you two has weighed on your mind, and heart, for more sleepless nights than you care to admit. Here and now, at your friend’s wedding, certainly isn’t the time to start.

–

The night stretches on and the mood is much lighter. Tears of joy for the happy couple have already been shed and the celebration was ongoing well into the night. Dinner was everything you expected it to be, each course more perfect than the last.

Daniel had been asked to give a toast in the upcoming weeks of the grand event. Not that he was the smoothest speaker to ever hold a microphone, but his humor was undeniably perfect for every crowd and setting.

He was rarely at a loss for words. For this speech in particular, when he tried to picture the moment and sit with his thoughts, he realized he had none. It may have been the first time he was truly out of his league. Ask him to write a speech about racing and the intensity that comes with it? No problem. Writing about love, in its truest and most passionate form? That poses a greater challenge.

Scribbled on the notecards tucked away in his suit jacket are a few quotes from philosophers or books he’s read, hoping one will inspire some profound words.

When the microphone finds him, Daniel takes one good look at you smiling back at him, and drops the cards on the table. A rush of confidence flows through his veins, telling him that he may not be so hopeless after all. He takes a deep breath and greets the room.

“I’ll be honest, when the bride and groom asked me to give a speech on their big day, my immediate response was ‘Are you sure’?” Light laughter falls over the crowd, putting him at ease.

“I’m no expert, but when I think about why we fall in love, the answer is simple. We fall in love when the idea of spending the rest of our days alone with someone feels more like paradise instead of a punishment; when we wake up and fall asleep to the thought of them, and happily let them run through our mind every hour in between.”

Everyone in the crowd lovingly gazes at their person. Daniel notices that your eyes have remained fixed on him this whole time. He feels himself blushing, and smiling at you before continuing.

“The way I see it, falling in love is this feeling of unwavering commitment, of being unwilling to give up on someone no matter how much they beg you to. It’s knowing that even if your love is never reciprocated, you’d still feel like the luckiest person on planet Earth, knowing they hold a place in your heart no one else ever could. Loving somebody, to me, means accepting that you couldn’t un-love them even if you tried.”

Daniel catches your eyes and they sparkle, whispering everything you wish to say back to him. A pause lingers over the crowd. You wonder if anyone else can hear your heart beating out of your chest. Under Daniel’s gaze, it feels as though you’re the only two left in the room.

He turns towards the bride and groom once again to end his remarks. “It’s for all those reasons that we’re here celebrating today. My deepest congratulations to the happy couple, may your love story never end.” Daniel raises his glass of champagne and everyone else follows suit, cheering loudly.

The bride and groom beam with joy, tears in their eyes as they resonated with every word he spoke. Everyone in the room had someone they thought about, someone they picture standing across from at the altar, hands held while they swear to keep their promises. The more Daniel went on, the more you realized that for you, it’s him. By the way he was looking at you, you have a pretty good idea that he was thinking of you, too.

Daniel shares an embrace with the bride and groom as they thank him for his heartfelt words. If they only knew the speech didn’t come from those notecards left discarded on the table. Daniel’s speech came straight from the heart, purely inspired by the burgeoning love he feels for you. Other guests sing his praises as he walks past their tables as he makes his way back to you. Romantic notes of the piano pick up from where they left off, and the floor opens up for guests to dance their night away. It gives him the perfect segway, unsure of how you’ll. If you react at all, that is.

“Congratulations, Plato. That was a pretty great speech.”

“I felt inspired,” He charms, extending his hand for you to take. “May I have this dance?”

Your lips curl into a smile, letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Do you even have to ask?”

Daniel shakes his head. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Deflecting by speaking in sarcasm and responding with rhetorical questions.” Something that admittedly drives him crazy, for better and for worse. “Why do you do that?”

“Why do you wanna know?” He gives you a pointed look, silently telling him that you’ve just proved his point. “Oh. I don’t know, maybe it’s easier for me that way. To imply how I feel because I can’t say it.”

The music is soft and the way Daniel holds your body to his… it's intimate. Like you could bare your deepest secrets to Daniel and leave it here in the ballroom once the song’s over. Insecurities only seek to discourage, they’re little reminders that this music isn’t for you. This night of romance doesn’t belong to you and Daniel, two friends that have blurred the lines so many times that they now cease to exist.

The last thing Daniel wants to do is rush you or scare you off. It’s a shame that he doesn’t think more before he speaks. “Do you ever get tired of keeping it in? Not saying what’s really on your mind?”

“Not always. I’d say it’s better to keep people guessing, never let them know my next move. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

“Am I just ‘people’?” He questions. His tone is soft and smooth, not accusatory in the slightest. It’s what makes Daniel so easy to talk to, even when it hurts. You never have to hide from him, he’s always waiting for you with open arms.

“No, you’re not just ‘people’, but I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Are we talking about me or you? Because I’m pretty sure this entire party knows that I’m madly in love with you. I think you might be the last one to realize.”

You freeze, and instinctively feel like taking a step away. “We’re at a wedding, Daniel. Love is in the air. You’d kinda have to be a psychopath to not let your heart soften when you’re around all of this.”

“Has yours softened? Is that what I saw in your eyes when I gave my speech?”

“I guess I’m just surprised to hear you talk all romantic like that. If there weren’t about a hundred witnesses here I wouldn’t believe it.” You giggle and he smiles at your joke, knowing that you’re absolutely right. This wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence for him.

“Well, believe it. I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me. I love you.” Daniel pauses, gauging your reaction. “You don’t have to say it back. I’m still the luckiest man in the world, remember?”

They say actions speak louder than words, and the way you kiss him says more than you can express in this moment. It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and Daniel is relieved in knowing that it won’t be the last. He kisses you back, and this time it means something. It’s a chance at having more than you ever thought possible. Less of keeping your love locked away and more accepting what’s been here all along.

“It’s not new with me either. I love you too, Daniel.”

“If I knew that was coming, I would’ve said it sooner.”

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’m not, just happy.” Daniel shows off that signature smile, one that won’t be erased anytime soon. The maid of honor interrupts your moment, asking for all of the men to clear the floor. “Now go, it looks like you have a bouquet to catch.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at his boldness. Then again, the Daniel you love has never been one to back down from being unabashedly himself. “You mean you want me to catch it? You know that means we’re next right, are you sure you can handle that?”

Daniel lets his fingers trail down your arm as he backs away, bowing slightly and planting an affectionate kiss on your hand. He’ll be gone before you can scold him any further for what he’s about to say.

“With any luck, we will be.”

💌: i miss danny so much 🥲 feel free to request more from my blurb event here! comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

taglist: @marjorieswrld

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze transfixed. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have you fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“��wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he goons his shorts off and you were starting to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. your gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel, taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you in his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away and kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.”

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. he gives into your request, it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. you head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, walls fluttering around him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time for come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft unmarred skin.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[glorifiedagents]

Paid to be Ruined — agatha harkness

"YOU LISTENED." Agatha’s voice was velvet and steel, laced with amusement and unmistakable hunger. Her gaze dragged over you — slow, knowing, lingering on the bare skin of your thighs peeking from beneath your coat. She took a step closer, fingers brushing the belt at your waist, her smirk deepening as she tugged — just enough to loosen it. "Good girl."

SUMMARY: agatha hires you for the night again - and you know for a fact that she's gonna ruin you PAIRING: g!p agatha harkness & escort!fem!reader CAUTION: swallowing cum, creampie, deepthroat, size kink, stomach bulge, spit, dom!sub!dynamics, overstimulation, escort!reader, g!p agatha, degradation and slight aftercare from agatha WORD COUNT: 5.1K AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read, let me know if i made mistakes! currently going through my agatha phase - literally need fucking help

You weren’t new to this.

The job, the money, the whole give them what they want, take what you need, and walk away thing. You had it down to a science. You knew how to read people, how to figure out exactly what they were looking for and play the part they wanted. It was easy. Simple. No emotions, no attachments, no mess.

But then there was her.

Agatha Harkness had been different from the start. The first time she hired you, you had expected the usual, maybe a drink, some small talk, a client who wanted to pretend there was more to this than just an exchange. But Agatha? She didn’t do small talk. She didn’t waste time.

She had taken one look at you, studied you with those dark, unreadable eyes, and smirked like she already knew exactly how the night would go. Like she had already decided how far she was going to push you. And the worst part?

She was right.

That night, she had left you wrecked. Not just satisfied — ruined.

You had walked away with sore thighs, a raw throat, and a pay-check big enough to make your head spin. You should have left it at that. Should have chalked it up to just one really good night with a really dangerous woman.

But then she called again. No discussion. No questions. Just a time, a room number, and the unspoken expectation that you would show up.

And against your better judgment, you did.

Only this time, you weren’t just going to show up. This time, you wanted to see just how much further she could break you.

You remembered something she had said the first time around, almost offhand but still deliberate in that way she did everything.

"Red suits you."

So you wore red.

Your best set — delicate lace, thin straps, garters and thigh-high stockings that made you feel like sin itself. And as the elevator carried you up to the top floor, heart pounding, pulse racing, you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t just getting paid tonight.

You were getting owned.

The black car idled outside the grand hotel, its sleek design gleaming beneath the golden glow of the streetlights. You sat in the back seat, smoothing your hands over your thighs, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. The fabric of your long coat was soft, but it did nothing to still the pounding of your heart.

The driver hadn’t spoken much since picking you up from your apartment — just a clipped greeting and a quiet confirmation of the address before pulling away from the curb. You were grateful. Any attempt at conversation would have been wasted on you. Your mind was too preoccupied, too restless, too consumed by what awaited you on the top floor of this building.

Your breath hitched as you stepped out of the car, heels clicking softly against the pavement. The grand entrance of the hotel loomed ahead, its revolving doors ushering guests in and out with quiet efficiency. The warm air inside wrapped around you as you stepped through, a stark contrast to the crisp night air outside.

The lobby was a sight of wealth — high ceilings, polished marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystal. The hum of quiet conversation surrounded you, but none of it registered. You walked with purpose, straight to the bank of elevators tucked near the back of the lobby.

Agatha’s message had been simple. A room number. A time. Nothing else.

Your fingers toyed with the belt of your coat as you waited for the elevator, a mix of nerves and anticipation coiling low in your stomach. You had dressed for her. The finest red lace and silk clung to your curves beneath your coat, the bra delicate yet daring, framing your breasts perfectly. The matching panties sat low on your hips, sheer enough to leave little to the imagination. Garters held up sheer thigh-high stockings, adding an extra layer of tease.

She would appreciate the effort. And then she would ruin it.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. The space was empty save for you, the only sound the soft hum of the elevator rising.

Your pulse quickened. You could already imagine the way she would look at you. The weight of her gaze, dark and knowing, as she took in every inch of you. The way she liked to test your limits, the way she devoured, possessed. She was dangerous in the most intoxicating way, and you had walked straight into her grasp.

Another chime. The doors opened.

The hallway was quiet, lined with plush carpeting that softened the sound of your steps. Each step forward sent another jolt of anticipation through you, every breath felt heavier. The door number burned in your mind.

And then, you were there.

Before you could knock, the door swung open.

Agatha stood in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the suite’s lighting. Her dark button-up was partially undone, sleeves rolled up to her forearms, revealing toned, elegant wrists. She looked effortless, but you knew better. Everything about her was intentional.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Agatha wasted no time. She had you pinned before you could take another breath, her strong hands pressing you back against the door, her body a solid wall of heat against yours. Her mouth crashed onto yours—hungry, claiming, her teeth scraping against your lower lip before she bit down just hard enough to make you gasp. She swallowed the sound with a satisfied hum, her tongue slipping past your lips as she deepened the kiss, rough yet tantalizingly slow, like she had all the time in the world to ruin you.

Her fingers trailed from your wrists, still trapped against the wood, down the length of your arms, her touch featherlight—teasing. By the time she reached your shoulders, she slid her fingers beneath the delicate straps of your red lace bra, pulling them down achingly slow, her mouth never leaving yours until she finally ripped herself away.

"Look at you," she murmured, stepping back just enough to take in the sight of you, her dark eyes raking over your body like she was devouring you whole. "Dressed up like a good little whore, just for me."

Heat flared through your body at the way she said it, dripping with amusement but edged with something dangerous, something that made your pulse stutter in your throat.

You barely had a second to react before she was on you again—her mouth hot against the curve of your jaw, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Her hands were everywhere at once—sliding down your arms, gripping your hips, owning every inch of you as she backed you up toward the bed. You whimpered when she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking hard, her tongue circling the sensitive peak before her teeth grazed it just enough to make you jerk in her grasp.

"Mm, so fucking sensitive," she mused against your skin before switching to the other, her free hand rolling the abandoned nipple between her fingers. Your hips bucked reflexively against her, needing more, desperate for friction.

And fuck, you felt it. The thick, hard length of her cock pressing against your stomach through her slacks, the outline making your mouth water as you squirmed beneath her.

"Pathetic," Agatha laughed, the sound low and mocking, her fingers trailing down your stomach, stopping just at the waistband of your panties. She could feel how wet they were, her smirk widening as she pressed her fingers against the soaked lace, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. "This soaked already? And I haven't even touched you properly. Such a desperate little thing."

"Agatha, please—"

A sharp slap to your thigh cut you off, the sting making you whimper as your skin burned beneath her palm.

"Did I say you could fucking beg?" she growled, her tone dark, commanding. "You're so needy it’s pathetic. You don’t deserve my cock yet."

You let out a choked sound of frustration, your body aching for more, but she just smirked, dragging her fingers up the inside of your thigh, making you tremble.

Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees.

You gasped at the sudden shift, your breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to your hip, her mouth lingering over the thin straps of your panties. She breathed you in, her nose nudging against the damp lace before she let out a low, satisfied hum.

"Fucking filthy," she murmured, dragging her tongue over the wet fabric, slow and deliberate, tasting you through it. The friction was exquisite—a teasing, maddening pressure that made your thighs shake. She licked a second time, the heat of her mouth soaking through, her fingers digging into your hips as she held you still.

You whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets behind you as your hips jerked up, chasing her mouth. But she pulled away just enough to deny you.

"Patience," she scolded, voice thick with amusement, before reaching up and undoing the garter straps excruciatingly slow, watching your face the entire time.

And then—fuck.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled your panties down, dragging them down your legs inch by inch, her lips brushing along your thighs as she went. And then, instead of tossing them aside—

She brought them to her mouth.

Your breath caught as she slid the drenched fabric between her teeth, her dark eyes locked onto yours as she pulled them taut, letting them drag over her tongue. She moaned like she was savoring the taste, her smirk never fading as she finally removed them—only to shove them into your mouth.

"Since you can't seem to stop moaning like a desperate slut," she taunted, her fingers trailing down your exposed cunt. "Now you can keep quiet."

You whimpered against the soaked lace in your mouth as she finally pressed two fingers between your folds, spreading you open. She groaned at how wet you were, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing in slow, devastating circles.

"Fuck, look at this mess," she muttered, her fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling away. "So fucking needy for me. Do you even have a single ounce of dignity left?"

You tried to respond, but your voice was muffled by the panties in your mouth.

Agatha laughed. "That’s what I thought."

And then, without warning, she thrust two fingers inside of you.

Your entire body arched off the bed, a muffled scream escaping past the gag as she filled you all at once, stretching you open with zero hesitation. She set a relentless pace immediately, her fingers driving into you with obscene, wet sounds that only seemed to fuel her amusement.

"Listen to you," she groaned, her free hand palming her cock through her slacks. "Taking my fingers so fucking well. You were made to be used like this."

Her thumb pressed against your clit, circling in time with the thrusts, sending sharp jolts of pleasure racing through your core. The pressure was unbearable, the pleasure so intense that your legs started shaking.

"You're gonna come already, aren’t you?" she mocked, watching you struggle. "Go on. Make a mess."

And then—fuck, fuck, fuck.

She angled her fingers just right, curling them against that perfect spot inside of you while pressing harder against your clit. Your entire body locked up before pleasure exploded through you, a sharp, overwhelming rush that had you squirting all over her fingers, your release dripping down your thighs as you writhed beneath her.

Agatha groaned as she watched you come undone, fucking you through it, her pace unrelenting as she worked you through every wave. "That's it. So fucking messy for me."

When she finally pulled her fingers out, they were dripping. She brought them to her lips, eyes locked onto yours as she sucked them clean, humming at the taste.

Then she stood, undoing her slacks, letting them pool at her feet.

Your breath caught at the sight of her thick, hard cock springing free, the tip glistening. You reached for it immediately, but she caught your wrist, pinning it back against the mattress with a warning glare.

"You don’t get to touch until I say so," she growled, leaning over you, pressing the heavy length against your overstimulated clit, making you whimper. "And you will take every fucking inch."

And fuck, you knew she meant it.

Every single word.

Agatha’s cock drags against your slick folds, teasing, the head catching on your clit with every slow, deliberate stroke. The obscene, wet sounds fill the room, mixing with your breathy whimpers and the low, guttural hum of amusement from her lips. She’s playing with you, watching the way you tremble beneath her, the way your thighs try to clamp together, only to be forced apart by her strong grip.

"Spit." The command is sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your lips part instantly, tongue pushing forward as a warm strand of saliva drips onto her waiting fingers. She smears it over her cock, mixing it with the slick beads of pre-cum already glistening at the tip. A slow, shuddering breath leaves her as she fists herself, pumping with languid strokes, eyes heavy-lidded as she watches you. A few stray drops spill onto your stomach, smearing across your skin, and marking you.

She lines herself up again, pressing the swollen tip against your entrance but not pushing in. Instead, she leans in close, mouth ghosting over yours, her breath hot and teasing.

"You want it?" she murmurs, smirking as she rubs herself against you, teasing, taunting. "Say it. Beg for it."

"Please," you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets. "Please, Agatha, I need—"

The words cut off in a sharp cry as she thrusts into you in one smooth motion, burying herself to the hilt. The stretch is instant, overwhelming — your walls clenching desperately around her thick cock as she fills you completely.

But she doesn’t give you time to adjust.

She sets a ruthless pace from the start, each powerful thrust driving deep, punching the air from your lungs as she claims you. The slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, the mattress creaking beneath the force of her movements. Your back arches, head falling back against the pillows as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you.

"Feel that?" she growls, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand down to your stomach. She presses your palm flat against your lower abdomen, right where she’s buried so deep inside you. "Feel me stretching you out? Fucking you open?"

The sensation is dizzying — you can feel the thick, hard outline of her cock through your own skin, feel the way she moves inside you, relentless and unyielding. Your body is burning, electric, the pressure coiling tight in your core with every brutal thrust.

"You’re squeezing me so fucking tight," Agatha groans, her fingers bruising against your hips as she fucks into you harder, deeper. "Like your body's desperate to milk me dry."

The words send a violent shudder through you, the pleasure teetering on the edge of something devastating.

"That’s it," she pants, her grip tightening as she slams into you harder. "Come for me, you filthy little thing — fucking soak me."

It’s too much. The overwhelming fullness, the sharp slap of her hips against yours, the way her cock presses against that perfect spot inside you — it sends you spiralling. Your body seizes, the orgasm ripping through you like a lightning strike, white-hot and all-consuming.

Fuck.

A strangled cry breaks from your lips as the pleasure turns into something explosive — your walls clenching down in rhythmic, desperate spasms, forcing liquid heat to gush from you, soaking Agatha’s cock, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you. The release is violent, messy, your body shuddering uncontrollably as the pleasure crashes over you in waves, each one dragging you under deeper.

Agatha curses under her breath, watching as you fall apart, watching the way you soak her cock, your slick dripping down onto her thighs. Her movements grow erratic, her breath ragged as she slams into you one final time, burying herself to the hilt as her own pleasure overtakes her.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from her chest as she comes, filling you with heat. You can feel it — the thick warmth spilling deep inside, coating your insides. As if it was seeping into every inch of you. She doesn’t pull out, just grinds against you, making sure every drop stays buried within you.

Your body is still trembling, aftershocks pulsing through your core, your skin flushed and feverish. Agatha finally collapses against you, her cock still inside, pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, her breath still ragged as she murmurs against your ear:

"Mine."

Agatha pulls out slowly, deliberately, watching with dark, predatory eyes as your walls clench around nothing, your body still trembling from the force of your release. A satisfied smirk curls at the corner of her lips as she watches the thick spill of her cum start to leak out of you, glistening as it drips onto your thighs.

"Messy little thing," she muses, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something possessive. Her fingers trail down your stomach, teasing over the sensitive, overstimulated skin before she presses two fingers against your entrance, spreading you open just enough to watch more of her cum seep out.

"Don’t waste it," she commands, and when you hesitate, she grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. "Use your fingers. Push it back in."

Your breath stutters, but you do as you're told, your own fingers gathering the warmth of her release, feeling it slick and sticky against your skin before pressing it back inside, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. The act is filthy and it makes you burn with humiliation and arousal all at once.

Agatha hums approvingly, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip, her smirk widening. "That’s a good girl."

But she isn’t done with you.

"On your knees."

Your body obeys before your mind fully catches up, slipping off the bed and sinking onto the floor. The shift makes more of her spend trickle down your thighs, and Agatha notices; her gaze flicking down, her smirk deepening.

"Open your mouth," she orders, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

The second your lips part, she grips the base of her cock and taps the heavy length against your tongue. She’s still hard, impossibly thick, coated in a mix of your slick and her own release. The taste is intoxicating — salty and musky. The scent clings to her skin, warm and heady, something rich and masculine with the faintest hint of sweat.

You could get used to this.

Agatha doesn’t ease you into it. She grips the back of your head and pushes forward, the thick head stretching your lips wide as she sinks deep, pressing against your tongue. The intrusion makes your throat tighten, and she groans at the feeling, her other hand coming to rest heavy on the back of your neck.

"That’s it. Take it," she growls, rolling her hips forward, pushing deeper until your nose nearly brushes the coarse, dark hair at the base of her cock. There’s just enough of it for you to feel against your skin, soft yet undeniably masculine, a reminder of how utterly she’s claiming you.

Your fingers twitch at your sides before you reach up, cupping her balls — heavy, full, sensitive under your touch. You can feel the heat of them against your palm, the weight of them tightening slightly as she thrusts into your mouth.

"Look at you," Agatha sneers, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air before she thrusts forward again, setting a punishing rhythm. "Nothing but a desperate little cock-sleeve for me, aren’t you? So fucking needy, drooling all over yourself just to have me in your mouth."

Your throat constricts around her, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, saliva pooling and spilling from the corners of your lips. Your body shudders, caught between humiliation and arousal, between submission and the raw pleasure of being used like this.

"Messy, pathetic thing," she continues, her voice sharper now, laced with satisfaction. "You love this, don’t you? Love being on your knees for me, choking on my cock like the filthy little slut you are."

Her words send a fresh pulse of heat between your thighs, and she notices the slight tremor in your body, the way your nails dig into her thighs as if trying to ground yourself.

"You’re getting off on this," she chuckles darkly, shoving deeper, holding you there for a moment as your throat spasms around her. "Of course you are. You’d let me ruin you, wouldn’t you?"

She groans as she pulls back, letting you breathe just for a second before thrusting forward again, deeper, harder, until you’re gasping around her, tears streaking down your cheeks. And still, you don’t pull away. You take it.

Just like she knew you would.

Agatha’s grip tightens at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair as she thrusts deeper, groaning low and guttural as she feels herself teetering on the edge. You can feel the way her cock pulses on your tongue, the way her breath stutters, her rhythm faltering just slightly as she chases that final burst of pleasure.

"Fuck—" she growls, her hips snapping forward one last time, holding you down as her release spills down your throat. The taste is thick, warm, — salty and rich, coating your tongue in waves. She doesn’t let you pull away, making sure you take as much as you can, but it’s too much — some of it dribbles from the corners of your lips, spilling down your chin in hot, sticky trails.

She watches with dark, satisfied eyes as you gasp for breath when she finally pulls back, her cock glistening with spit and the remnants of her orgasm.

"Messy little thing," she murmurs again, thumb swiping at the cum dripping from your chin before pressing it against your lips. "Swallow every last drop."

Your throat bobs as you obey, the act making her smirk in satisfaction.

Then, without warning, she grabs you and pulls you up onto shaky legs, her lips crashing onto yours in a bruising kiss. The taste of her own release lingers between you, and she doesn’t shy away from it —if anything, she deepens the kiss, claiming your mouth with a dominance that makes your knees weak.

She moves you easily, pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours, heavy with heat and lingering hunger. Her cock, still hard, presses against your stomach, smearing the last of her release against your skin. You’re panting, dazed, body still trembling from the relentless pleasure she’s wrung from you, but when she starts to pull away, you catch her wrist, eyes glassy with need.

"I wanna ride you," you gasp, the words tumbling out breathlessly, your body aching but desperate for more.

Agatha chuckles, low and smug, dragging her fingers down your chest, teasing over your already-sensitive skin. "You think you can handle that?" she taunts, tracing slow circles over your overstimulated clit, making your thighs twitch. "You’re still shaking, baby. After everything I’ve done to you, you really think you can take control?"

The challenge sends another shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as you push up onto shaky arms. "Let me try," you whisper, lips brushing against hers, your voice filled with determination despite the exhaustion in your limbs.

Agatha leans back against the pillows, her body stretched out beneath you, radiating heat and authority even in repose. Her cock, still thick and glistening with a mix of your slick and her own release, stands hard between her legs, a silent challenge. The way she watches you; head tilted, lips curled in a knowing smirk; makes your pulse spike, a flush crawling up your chest.

"Go on then," she murmurs, voice laced with amusement, fingers idly trailing up her stomach. "Show me what you can do, baby."

Your thighs tremble as you shift forward, crawling into position, your body still aching from the relentless way she’s used you but the hunger still simmers beneath the exhaustion, pulsing low in your belly. You want this. Need this. Need to take her in deep, to feel every inch stretch you open again.

You straddle her lap, your hands braced against her stomach, feeling the taut muscles flex beneath your palms as you hover just above her length. The heat of her cock brushes against your swollen folds, sending a fresh shudder through you. She feels like fire against your skin. Thick and rigid, pulsing with need, the tip teasing against your entrance as you roll your hips ever so slightly, coating her in your arousal.

Agatha hums in approval, her hands gliding up your thighs, slow and possessive. "Look at you," she murmurs, her thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin where your legs meet your hips. "So desperate to have me inside you again. Can’t get enough, can you?"

You bite your lip, but she catches your chin between her fingers, forcing your gaze to meet hers. "Say it."

Your breath stutters, your body burning from the inside out as you whisper, "I can’t get enough of you."

Her smirk deepens. "Good girl."

She releases you just as you sink down, your breath catching in your throat as the thick head of her cock pushes past your entrance, stretching you inch by inch. The burn is instant—blissful, overwhelming, your walls struggling to take her all at once.

Agatha groans beneath you, her fingers digging into your thighs. "Fuck, you’re tight," she rasps, watching with hooded eyes as you slowly lower yourself onto her, taking her deeper, letting the length of her disappear inside you.

Your head falls back as you bottom out, her cock nestled impossibly deep, pressing against every nerve inside you. The sensation is devastating, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure, and you tremble above her, nails scraping against her abdomen as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Feel that?" Agatha murmurs, her voice smug as she presses a hand against your lower stomach, right where she’s buried to the hilt. "So deep I can feel myself inside you again. Fuck baby."

You whimper, rolling your hips experimentally, the movement sending sharp waves of pleasure through you. The drag of her cock against your walls is slow and torturous, every inch brushing against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

Agatha watches you struggle to find a rhythm, her grip tightening. "Come on, baby," she taunts, giving your thigh a sharp slap that makes you jolt. "You wanted to ride me. Show me how much you need it."

A determined fire flares in your chest, and you plant your hands against her shoulders, lifting yourself just enough before sinking back down, harder this time. The impact sends a delicious jolt through you, pleasure sparking at the base of your spine.

Agatha groans, her hands sliding up to your chest, palms covering your breasts, squeezing as she rolls your sensitive nipples between her fingers. The sensation makes you gasp, the mix of pleasure and pain sending a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs.

"That’s it," she murmurs, her grip firm but teasing, playing with your body as she lets you work yourself on her cock. "Such pretty tits, bouncing every time you take me. Keep going, baby. Make yourself cum on me."

The words send a rush of heat through you, your movements growing desperate, erratic, your nails digging into her skin as you chase the high she’s leading you toward. The pleasure coils deep in your belly, unbearably tight, and when Agatha tweaks your nipple just right, rolling it between her fingers, it snaps.

A strangled cry rips from your throat as your climax crashes over you, your entire body shaking as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench down around her, pulsing, milking her cock with every wave of your release.

Agatha groans, her thrusts turning erratic as she follows, burying herself deep inside you with one final snap of her hips. The warmth of her release floods your core, thick and hot, filling you completely as her grip tightens around you.

Then, with a smirk, Agatha leans in, nipping at your jaw but this time, her touch is softer. As you collapse onto her chest, spent and trembling, she strokes a hand down your back, her other hand massaging the sore muscles of your thighs.

"You did so well for me," she murmurs, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder. "My good girl."

You hum, barely able to keep your eyes open as her hands knead away the ache, working out the tension she put into you. The warmth of her touch soothes the lingering sting of overstimulation, and for a moment, you think about letting yourself drift off.

But you don’t. You can’t.

The rules are the rules. Your rules.

With effort, you shift, slipping from her grasp, your limbs still shaky as you slide out of bed. Agatha watches as you stand, stretching despite the soreness in your legs, and move toward where your clothes are strewn across the floor.

"You’re not gonna shower?" she asks, her tone casual but curious as she props herself up on an elbow, watching you with sharp eyes.

You shake your head, pulling your clothes back on with practiced efficiency. "I’ll do it at home."

Agatha doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies you as you gather your things. Then, without breaking eye contact, she reaches for the bedside table, grabs the check she had prepared, and hands it to you.

"You know…" she starts, voice slower now, something unreadable beneath the surface. "You can stay the night."

The offer lingers in the air between you, heavier than it should be.

But the rules are the rules.

You take the check, meeting her gaze one last time before slipping out the door.

And Agatha watches you go.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Charm Me | Jeon Jungkook | Two Shot | Part One

Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is not someone you had planned on falling for, and honestly you hardly admit it to yourself most days but maybe, just maybe there's something you can do to test those waters... Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook (semi friends to lovers lol) Word Count: 7k~ Warnings: Some curses here and there but nothing major. a/n: Kay so this was supposed to be a one shot but I didn't finish it in time and I wanted to get something out for Valentine's Day so I hope you guys enjoy it 🥰 p.s. barely edited per usual so please excuse any mistakes. I legit decided last minute to make this a two shot lol.

"Come on y/n let's go!" Sadie pleads practically dragging me through the parking lot. "Someone's excited" I laugh, dragging my feet a little to make her task even harder, eventually yanking me through a heart littered archway. 

"You finally agreed to come with me to the Valentine's Festival after I had been begging you for years! How could I not be excited?" she says as though her degree of excitement is warranted but with her, excitement is always easy to conjure.

"I've never had a reason to come since I've been single for years" I roll my eyes, the whole thing seemingly pointless if you ask me. "Yet here you are, still single and gracing me with your presence" she says accompanied by a dramatic curtsy, very fitting this time since she happens to be wearing a dress. 

Her cute coquette style mismatched with my dark and moody nature is a laughable dichotomy. 

Her pink ballet flats walk next to my all black combat boots, the ribbons swaying in her hair stand in stark contrast to the way the light catches on my silver chains, leaving us quite the odd pairing.

"You know, if you keep on hanging on my arm like that people are gonna think we're lesbians" I sigh, not making an effort to pull away. "Is that your way of asking me to be your Valentine" she teases and I roll my eyes. 

"Pretty sure Jayson would have a problem with that" I say, pealing her off of me leaving her pouting before grabbing my hand instead and pulling me over to the first of many stalls that line this festival. 

"Just because Jayson is my boyfriend doesn't mean he has to be my Valentine...plus he hasn't asked me yet" she sighs dramatically for the fifth time today, a common theme for the past couple of days whenever this topic is brought up. 

"You know you could always, I don't know... ask him" I say and her brows furrow leaving me poking the wrinkle on her forehead to make her stop. 

"What a ridiculous thing to say" she scoffs and walks off to the next stand leaving me shaking my head and following after her. 

Sadie is someone I've been friends with for as long as I can remember. Long enough to have known each other before we made the dramatic split in our senses of style. I'd love to burn the pictures of me in Abercrombie skinny jeans and brightly colored Hollister polos but alas they will forever haunt my memories. 

At least I had Sadie though. I wouldn't leave her in the past no matter how many embarrassing stories she's in possession of.

"No way!" she squeals and pulls me over to another stall that's caught her eye. "If you keep on yanking on my arm like that you'll eventually pull it off" I say while rolling my shoulder, making it a point to prevent her from doing so again. 

"Sorry" she laughs awkwardly and tries to check on me but I assure her I'm fine, choosing to direct her attention to the table she decided to pull me towards this time.

"Love potions? Really? Jayson is already head over heels for you Sadie, I doubt you'll need help keeping him around" I roll my eyes and try to move onto to the next stall but she pulls me back, gently this time thankfully, clearly enthralled with the concept.

"Not for me silly, for you!" she justifies and takes a closer look, making the mysterious and lowkey sketchy woman behind the table hopeful that she'll get another sucker to fall for her tricks. 

"Why would I need a love potion? Last time I checked there's not a man in my life that I'd want to fall in love with me" I say and she cocks a brow at me. "Bullshit" she says, using language that I've hardly every heard from her. 

"Someone's feisty today" I chuckle making her expression sour. "What? There's literally no guy I could think of that I'd want to use that on" I reiterate but we both know I'm lying. 

But I'm not gonna give that information up though even if she tries to beat it out of me.

"Whatever you say" she huffs and moves onto the next stall.

The rest of our time here is spent doing the same thing over and over again with Sadie trying to find something for Jayson and me just following along getting hungrier by the second as we inch closer and closer to the food stalls that are annoyingly full of food items that look like hearts and roses but I couldn't care less when they smell that good. 

"Alright come on dude I'm starving" I say when she's finished paying, still engaged in a conversation with the shop keeper that has been convincing her to buy too many useless things but it's no skin off my nose if she wants to use her daddy's money to buy that nonsense. 

"Hey! I was still talking to her" she whines but follows since after my not so subtle mention of needing sustenance she's starting to realize she's just as starving if not more than me when she see's that they're selling heart shaped waffles. 

"Okay but afterwards I want to check out a few more stalls!" she compromises and switches to pulling me along again to get in the ever growing line of hungry customers.

~~~~

After we've each successfully gained a food baby each Sadie pops around and looks at a few more stalls with me very much ready for a nap. 

But let's be honest, I'm always ready for a nap.

"Hey why don't you pull the car around and I'll check out the last few stalls on my own" she suggests but I know she's up to something. 

"Why?" I question watching her eyes shift over to a certain stall in particular. "That way it'll safe us a little bit of time and we can get out of here sooner" she explains but I sigh and agree, knowing the faster we get out of here, the better from my perspective at least. 

"I'll call you when I get closer to the entrance" I say and she smiles and waves me off while I make the trek back to her car on my own, having brought her car so I would have no means of escape.

When I finally pull up she hops in with at least two or three more bags than she had when I left. "What did you buy?" I ask but all I'm granted is a little giggle accompanied by a no where near suspicious 'Nothing' leaving me rolling my eyes for the last time tonight, knowing that her childlike excitement when it comes to these things truly is endearing to me, but she'll never know that. 

~~~~

Once Sadie unlocks the door to her apartment we both head over to the table to set down her countless purchases. 

"Did you really need another perfume?" I ask, holding up the pink ish stained glass bottle to the light leaving her taking it out of my hands and putting it back on the table. "It's not perfume it's room mist. It's supposed to make the space feel more romantic" she says, giving a shortened version of the sales pitch she no doubt got. 

"Right...romantic" I chuckle knowing that it'll probably just be a cheaply made lightly scented mist that's supposed to be all natural with health benefits too but I won't burst her bubble on this one since I know there's enough romance to spare when it comes to her and Jayson. 

I swear I can barely stand being alone with them but luckily that's gotten a little better lately. 

"I should probably get going soon" I say looking at the clock after I've helped her put everything away for safe keeping, code word for away from Jayson's prying eyes. "Wait why?" she pouts, "I thought you were gonna stay for movie night" she says as if I just told her that she can't wear pink on Wednesdays. 

"I don't wanna watch a movie with you and your boyfriend" I cringe at the idea of being left in a room with those two. "Yeah but he's bringing J-" she starts to argue but is cut off by a rhythmic knock on her front door making her expression go from sulking to smug.

"Can you get the door?" she asks and goes back to the kitchen to get the movies snacks ready. "I'm not your butler S" I call back out but my only response is her happily humming and completely ignoring me. 

I walk over to the door and open it with Jayson's hand raised up about to knock again which he luckily doesn't because he wouldn't knocked on my forehead instead. 

"Impatient are we?" I ask and lean against the doorway, making his efforts of seeing Sadie last a little while longer. "Hi y/n, is Sadie around?" he chuckles, glad he didn't accidentally make an enemy of me tonight. "I mean this is her apartment" I say and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. 

"Yeah I guess you're right" he says making me smirk, knowing I'm playing to scary best friend role perfectly. Looks like he took the threat of me castrating him if he ever hurt Sadie pretty seriously still. "In the kitchen" I say and widen the door, letting him slip past me but when I go to close it I'm met with another person trying to come in right behind him.

"Hey y/n" his deep voice says, no doubt trying to play it cool since he's probably heard that story before as well. "Didn't know you were coming" I say, my tone neutral as I widen the door for him. 

"Yeah Jayson said something about a movie night? I heard you were gonna be here so I thought I'd tag along...if that's alright with you of course" Jungkook say, backtracking and clearly embarrassed for admitting that he wanted to see me.

"I mean it's a free country" I shrug my shoulders and close the door, with him waiting for me to lead the way even though he's been here quite a few times already since Sadie and Jayson got together. "Right" he chuckles, not adding much more than that, letting the conversation die.

"Hi baby" Jayson says making Sadie giggle and I avert my eyes before I have to witness another kiss of theirs leaving me bumping into Jungkook's chest, not having expected him to be that close. With him as a result wrapping his arm around me to make sure I don't stumble from the impact. 

"Sorry I-" he says but I just unwrap his arm around my waist. "It's fine. I was just a little too dramatic in trying to save myself from witnessing their love" I roll my eyes leaving Sadie pouting but I can tell she's clearly satisfied with seeing Jungkook and I so close. 

"Makes sense" he said and rubs the back of his neck and watches as I make my way over to the couch with him soon following my lead. 

He's been like this almost since the beginning once he realized that my moody exterior wasn't aimed at him just because he was a stranger but was just a part of my character. Although I'm pretty sure I still make him nervous, he doesn't seem to mind it anymore.

Just like clockwork he sits on one side of the couch while I sit on the other, never crossing spacial boundaries unless necessary or out of convenience like that one time I got roped into sitting in the middle in the backseat next to him on our trip to the beach since we needed more space for the stuff we brought with us. 

Curse you Sadie and your tiny car. 

I don't even know why we ended up taking her car since it's the smallest out of the four of ours but alas. The result of which was Jungkook's arm draped across the back seat to offer me some more space with me eventually falling asleep on him. Resulting in me lowkey avoiding him after the fact until I realized how ridiculous I was being.

Sadie had also been guilt tripping me at that time about how sad he had been and how lonely he looked hanging out with just her and Jayson and so I finally gave in, knowing I couldn't do this forever. Plus it wasn't like it was his fault or anything. Swimming always makes me sleepy and I should've warned him about that. 

He didn't make it a big deal about it when I came back thankfully since I already had to deal with enough teasing from my often merciless best friend so we were luckily able to act as though it never happened. Although ever since then it's happened quite a few times...

"Hey Jungkook do you think you could let me use the arm rest tonight?" Jayson calls out sounding not in the slightest bit suspicious but all of us know what he's doing and Sadie clearly has clearly put him up to it.

"Oh um" Jungkook starts but when he not so subtly glances over in my direction I decide to just put the boy out of his misery. "You can use mine. Sadie and I can sit in the middle" I say resulting in me having to sit next to Jungkook for the next two or so hours.

When I glance at him I can see how the new seating arrangement has made him nervous and so I decide to torture the boy a little. "As long as that's okay with you Jungkook?" I ask, tilting my head at him which has him nervously glancing back over at me before clearing his throat and practically squirming him his seat before nodding 'yes'. 

"Perfect!" Sadie says and with the help of Jayson brings over all the snacks and presses play on the pre approved movie from our group chat debate.  

~~~~

As the movie drags on I watch my vision go in and out of focus, leaving me shaking my head in an effort to try and wake myself up. "You okay?" Jungkook whispers and I hum. "Just a little sleepy" I respond assuring him I'm alright. He hums back and adjusts his posture, draping his arm around the couch, as a not so subtle invitation for me to lean on him.

The corner of my mouth turns up at that and I can tell that he noticed it, making him not as nervous about his offer anymore.

The dynamic between Jungkook and I has been...peculiar to say the least. 

I wouldn't consider him a close friend or even a friend really. Maybe more like a friend by proxy since we do end up spending a lot of time together. With both of our best friends insisting that the two of us tag along with neither of us having the real desire to tell them no. 

We've had a good conversation here and there when Sadie and Jayson are wrapped up in their own little world but I won't lie to you when I say that there have been some days or nights where we just sit in silence, watching the love birds do what they do.

If you ask me though it's never felt awkward. Has he been awkward and nervous? Yes. But it doesn't really bother me either. 

I wouldn't say that I seek out his company but I can't say that I don't feel a little disappointed when he's not around. More like there's something missing because obviously someone is missing, plus I'm forced to pay more attention to the two of them if it's just me.

It's times like that when he works up the courage to text me. Explaining why he wasn't able to make it as though he felt obligated to do so but he makes sure to offer me an ear when I want to complain about the nonsense those two get up to or what they managed to rope me into.

He sends funny memes to cheer me up, somehow knowing my sense of humor perfectly or complains to me in return about how boring and monotonous his job can be making me smile when he tells me he has to go because his boss is watching. As though he was a nervous teenager that couldn't spend a second away from his crush.

He couldn't have a crush on me could he? No, no that's not right. 

I let my thoughts of Jungkook drift off, the low hum of the TV soon lulling me to sleep resulting in me leaning against him, with him adjusting his posture to make it more comfortable for me, his arm soon migrating from resting on the back of the couch to loosely around my waist.

Something I've always noticed when I wake up though is that he's so comfortable. As though being this close to him feels natural. I will admit that when I've partially stirred awake and realized what I'd done I don't make an effort to wake up or pull away, indulging in the comfort for just a little while longer.

I feel bad though for the times that I wake up and he has to leave right away or when Sadie pulls me over and let's me lay on her lap to continue sleeping, making it a little easier for him to head out. It's as though he waits until the very last minute just to let me sleep a little while longer, not wanting to disturb me for as long as he can.

Tonight isn't one of those nights though, the ones where he has somewhere to go or some place to be. 

He just stays there, being as still as he can, letting me cuddle up to him as little or as much as I want to, eventually helping me lay my head down on his lap once Jayson and Sadie turn in for the night. The position being the slightest bit more comfortable this time with me eventually waking up three hours after the movie had finished.

My head is resting on his upper thigh, with my face basically buried into his torso but he doesn't seem to mind when I turn onto my back and see him absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. 

"What time is it?" I mumble, slightly startling him but he smiles at my groggy state soon after. "One thirty" he mumbles back, keeping his voice down so he doesn't force me awake too quickly. 

"You could've woken me up" I say, slowly sitting up and stretching before straightening out my appearance just the slightest bit. "I didn't have anywhere to be so I thought I'd just let you sleep" he shrugs and I hum. "Plus you seemed pretty exhausted so I thought you could use the rest" he adds and I can't help but give him a soft, hardly conscious smile. 

"Thanks" and he just smiles back at me. We sit there for a little while, and he eventually hands me a bottle of water that's on the coffee table to hopefully help me wake up but after a while I sigh and rest back back against the couch again. 

"What?" he chuckles, sensing my struggle. "Sadie was supposed to give me a ride home" I huff, realizing the predicament I've been put in, just because I wanted to get some shut eye. 

"I can give you a ride" he chuckles, seeing the clear solution but I shake my head. 

"I can't just keep you here and use you as my human pillow then have you give me a ride home as well" I counter but he just smiles. "It's really not a big deal" he counters and I sigh again, knowing he's probably not gonna take no for an answer. 

I can't help but get this...this indescribable feeling in my stomach that I so desperately want to ignore when I think about being alone with him. We are alone right now but that somehow seems...different.

"I have to go somewhere on your side of town anyways so your place is on my way" he says making me smile at his blatant lie. "At two in the morning?" I chuckle, checking my phone and quickly turning down the brightness so it won't blind me anymore.

"Yeah it's uh...open for twenty four hours" he say, making excuses to fit his claims. "You're lying to me aren't you?" I say, calling him out making him look down at his lap, slightly defeated seeing his excuse didn't work this time. 

"Yeah" he mumbles making me smile. "You could always just say that you want to give me a ride" I chuckle and from the way he clears his throat and looks away I can tell that that sentence has a completely different meaning to him than I had intended. 

"I um...I want to give you a ride...home. A ride home" he stammers, the whole interaction quite amusing to me. "Sure, I'd like that" I say and stand up with him getting up immediately, patting his pockets and making sure he has his keys. 

I grab my purse and make sure I have everything I need as well and when he sees that I didn't bring a warm jacket he gives me the other one he brought that he had put aside when he came in. "What's this for?" I ask, taking it suspiciously and draping it over my arm. 

"We're just walking to your car right? Pretty sure I don't need this for that short of a walk" I say and try to hand it back to him. He takes it back but instead wraps it around me and helps me put it on regardless, even going through the effort of zipping it up for me. 

"Trust me, you'll need it" he smiles softly after seeing how it fits me, clearly satisfied seeing me wearing something of his. 

"I look silly don't I?" I say, turning towards the full length mirror Sadie has in her entry way but he chuckles and shakes his head, standing behind me and looking at me through the reflection. 

"It looks perfect on you" he says just as soft as his smile and opens the door, urging for me to go in true gentlemanly like fashion leaving me rolling my eyes but going along with his efforts nonetheless. 

I lock up the apartment with my spare key and follow him as he leads me to what I had expected to be his usual black BMW but what I'm met with is an equally as black Harley Davidson with him unlocking the compartment in the back and handing me his spare helmet. 

This item although I don't take so willingly.

"You're joking right?" I scoff and cross my arms, the longer sleeves from his jacket by design giving me sweater paws making my stance a whole less defiant than I wanted. A pouty aura now stands in it's place.

"What? Never ridden a motorcycle before?" he smirks and walks over to me, choosing to put it on for me since he's pretty sure I wouldn't do it from my argument against this whole idea to begin with. 

"No I haven't and I don't plan to" I huff and try to take it off but he chuckles and holds it down against my head making me accept defeat with this part at least. Just because I put on the helmet doesn't mean I actually have to ride it. 

"You scared?" he chuckles, adjusting the strap under my chin and making sure it fits just right, smiling, satisfied with his work, amused with my soured expression. "I am not scared!" I argue and he smirks. 

"Then what's the problem sweetheart?" he says, his first time even daring to use a pet name with me catching me off guard. 

"The problem is, sweetheart, is that I don't wan't to. Those things are dangerous!" I argue and he smiles before putting his helmet on as well and taking my bag to place it in the back seat compartment and closes it. 

"Hey!" I argue when I realize what he's done, trying to get it back but it seems it locks automatically leaving my efforts sans key useless.

"Do you trust me?" he asks and my brows furrow, honestly not knowing the answer yet making me look away. "Y/n" he says, placing both of his hands on my shoulders and urging me to look at him leaving me ultimately relenting.

"Do you trust me?" he repeats, all the times I've let him in even in the slightest rushing through my psyche. Hell even just moments ago when I had been asleep and in a vulnerable state I trusted him to watch over me and so I nod my head. 

Admitting to him and myself that I've let him in, that I've let him break down these walls that I've built up even in the slightest making the sides of his eyes crinkle, the mask like helmet making it impossible to see his complete expression. 

"Good, now get on"

~~~~

I hold onto him as tight as I possibly can while he safely swerves between lanes and warns me when he's about to go around a bend and I can tell that everything about this predicament amuses him. 

"You know you can relax a little when we hit red lights" he calls out to me over the roar of the engine but my only answer is a quick 'Nope' while I grasp onto him tighter, his reactions always a dark chuckle that I can feel through his back that's pressed impossibly close to my chest the tighter I cling to him. 

At those red lights though he tends to remind me to keep my legs spread just a little wider, making sure I don't burn my calves on the hot metal of the bike. Placing both of his hands on my knees and spreading them a little wider. The act alone in this case is innocent but in others that I curse my mind for wandering to is anything but that.

"Hey" he calls out, the roar of his Harley no longer audible making his voice seem that much louder. "Yeah?" I ask, still completely clueless as to what he's trying to alert me to. "You can let go now" he chuckles, the sound no longer just felt but heard makes me pull back, so thankful his back is turned to me still.

"Sorry, I didn't realize we had gotten here already" I say and he shakes his head and pulls off his helmet before getting off and leaving me sliding down a little on the seat, loosing my balance and grabbing onto the handlebars. 

"I thought you said you didn't like motorcycles" he taunts and I huff. "I don't" I roll my eyes making him even more amused. "Really? Because you look like you're about to steal it from me" he points out, nodding towards my hands that are very much still on the handle bars. 

I let go of it as though I had burned myself and quickly getting off the bike, losing my balance and making Jungkook on instinct grabs my hips to keep me on my feet. 

After regaining my composure and realizing the predicament we're in leave me the one to call in back to reality. My hands although are still very much holding onto his biceps with his hands still gripping my hips with an almost bruising strength. 

I look up at him, seeing as he's looking down at me, an unreadable expression written on his face as though he was struggling with something leaving me really having to break him out of his train of thought. 

"Jungkook?" I say, loosening my grip on his arms. "Hmm?" he hums, still clearly lost in whatever thoughts had been holding him hostage, still looking at me but almost as if he couldn't focus on one feature. 

"Jungkook?" I say again, this time smiling and that breaks him out of it a bit more. "You can let go now" I laugh, leaving him blinking and letting go, taking a step back making both of our arms fall at our sides now. 

"Sorry um...are you okay?" he asks, remembering the fact that I almost fell on my ass. "I'm fine, are you?" I tilt my head at him leaving him looking away, a rosy tint deepening on his cheeks even in this twilight surrounding us. 

"Can you help me with this?" I ask after trying to struggle and get the helmet off leaving his mouth utter a inaudible 'oh' before stepping closer again and unbuckling the intricate strap under my chin. 

"See, home safe and sound" he chuckles after putting the helmets away and giving me my bag back. "Slightly traumatized but safe nonetheless" I say making the corner of his mouth turn up. 

"It wasn't that bad was it?" he asks with him now tilting his head at me, now understanding his reaction to when I do it. "Never make me do that again" I huff and turn to walk away and when I hear the sound of two sets of foot steps instead of one I turn around and watch as his steps stutter and come to a halt. 

"What?" he asks when he's met with a confused look. "What are you doing?" I ask and he's now the one rolling his eyes at me. "Walking you to the door?" he nods towards my front door making me cross my arms over my chest. 

"Why?" I cock my brow, "I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself" I argue but he looks down and chuckles. "I know, but I want to" he says when he looks back up at me, something about it making my heart flutter and therefore making me more susceptible to the whole idea. 

"Fine" I say and it's at that point I notice the fact that he had in fact planned this. Him having parked in a visitor parking space and going through the effort of taking his helmet off as well. Clearly showing me he had no intention of leaving right away making me turn around to hide the no doubt embarrassed expression on my face.

His footsteps trail behind me as I walk over to the stairs, choosing to not take the elevator because the thought alone of being in that small of a space with him seems intimidating enough. 

It's not like I'm on the fifth floor or something...just the third, making both of us slightly winded by the time we get to my door. 

He waits as I unlock my door and when I turn around he still doesn't look like he's in much of a rush to leave. "You gonna head home?" I ask, tossing my keys on the hooks next to my door and he smile. "You're not gonna invite me in?" he asks, nodding inside and I look back assessing the state of it and decide it's in an okay state to have visitors. 

"Do you wanna come inside?" I ask and he again clears his throat and looks away. Damn this boy has an even dirtier mind than I do. "Yeah um sure" he says, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears pink as if he wasn't the one that suggested this making me smile and walk in, leaving an open invitation. 

He follows soon after and closes the door behind him, quietly since it's about to be three in the morning so he doesn't feel like contributing to me getting an eviction notice. 

"It's been a while since you've been here huh?" I ask, grabbing both of us waters from the fridge with him nodding and taking it from me, making it a point to brush his fingers against mine before I pull back. 

"Yeah. It looks a little different" he says while taking in some things he hadn't noticed before, one of which being my little black cat that does a big stretch before walking over to him, smelling him and circling around his legs as if he was sizing him up. 

"I didn't know you had a cat" he says, leaning down and offering his hand down for him to get a little bit more familiar with his scent. "What's his name?" he asks, looking back up at me after having crouched down to pet him, seeing that he's taken a liking to him which surprises me to say the least. 

"Shadow" I say and I can't help but smile at the sight. "Hi Shadow" he coos again leaving me caught off guard when Shadow starts purring. "He really never takes a real liking to strangers, or at least not this quickly" I say and he smiles before standing back up, leaving me looking back up at him again. 

"I guess I'm just a likable guy" he jokes making me roll my eyes and sit down on the couch with him following after me. "You've got some pretty heavy duty curtains there" he points out, seeing my very dark, very black curtains to match my whole aesthetic.

"I have trouble sleeping sometimes so it's easier for me to keep as much light out that I can if I end up having to sleep during the day" I shrug and place my water down on the coffee table with him soon following after. 

"Is that why you're so sleepy all the time?" he asks making me hum, "Yeah, sorry about that" I apologize but he smiles and shakes his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I'm just glad I'm able to help you get some sleep sometimes" he says, his smile soon turning shy making him look away. 

His act of going in and out of shy to confident makes him that much more entertaining to me. With him although practically squirming under my gaze one second to practically giving me butterflies in the next. It's an interesting dynamic but one I don't put much thought into.

"Are you gonna have trouble sleeping tonight? You know with that long nap that you had" he says sheepishly as if he wasn't the one I had fallen asleep on. 

"Maybe, but I'm used to it" I shrug my shoulders and he nods, clearly trying to think through what he wants to say next but before he's able to a loud thunder clap resounds through my apartment, making me almost jump into his lap, the sudden sound catching me off guard.

"You alright?" he asks and I clear my throat awkwardly, and sit back, going back to my respective side of the couch. "Yup totally fine, completely fine actually. How are you doing?" I babble, clearly giving myself away which now is amusing him. 

"You're afraid of thunderstorms aren't you?" he asks, tilting his head at me and I nod, giving in right away because there's no use hiding this obvious answer. 

"Are you gonna be able to sleep through it?" he asks and although I know what he's gonna offer next I don't want to take advantage of his kindness especially since I don't want him to end up thinking I led him on because I can't make up my mind in the future.

"Probably not" I admit and he hums, thinking about it for a second before saying what I knew he was going to. "I could stay...if you want?" he asks, not wanting to overstep but sensing from my body language alone that I might need someone. 

"I-" "How about this. I don't really like the idea of riding my motorcycle in the middle of a thunderstorm so do you think you could offer me a place to stay for the night?" he asks, making me see that although I know he's doing this for me he does end up benefitting from it at least a little bit...or a lot a bit.

I think about it for a second and although I know I'm gonna say yes I can't help but hesitate. The thought of letting him stay making this whole thing I know we're starting to feel for each other that much more real.

"I guess it would be pretty shitty of me to kick you out in the rain huh?" I smile, wanting to add a little humor to the tension I clearly feel growing between us. "I mean it's your choice but I would really appreciate it if you didn't" he jokes making me smile. 

"You can stay on one condition" I say and he hums at that but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have it any other way. "You have to sleep in my bed. My couch is too short and I'd feel horrible if you woke up with a kink in your neck or something because of it" I say and he gives me a cheeky smile. 

"It would defeat the purpose if I slept anywhere else but with you. You know, so I can keep you calm through the storm?" he chuckles and I nod, glad that we're on the same page although for different reasons.

"Did you wanna borrow some clothes? I have some baggy sweats and your waist is pretty small from what I remember so they'd probably fit you" I ramble and I know at that point that I've said way too much when he gives me a wicked smile. 

"Have you been checking me out y/n?" he asks and scoots just a bit closer. "No, no I just remember from the few times we've gone to the beach together. You know, with Sadie and Jayson?" I make excuses but he's not buying it. 

"So you haven't been checking me out now but you did then?" his smile never leaving his face. 

"Did you want the clothes or not?" I scowl making him even more enticed to keep teasing but he hums in agreement and watches as I jump up from the couch. 

"Wait here" I say and he nods his head, resting his arm across the back of the couch and spreading his legs just a little wider than necessary with him shamelessly checking me out as much as I am with him. 

I scurry off to my room though, the thought of crossing anymore lines with him than I'm about to already is something I'm not ready for yet...yet? No! I'm not ready for period! I'm not ready for anything like that and I don't want to put a strain on our relationship if something ends up happening. 

I change and take some very much needed deep breaths before going back to the living room with the baggy set of clothes I had offered to him and see that he's started to explore. He takes a closer look at the pictures that I have hung up and zeroes in on one on my desk of Sadie and I in those aforementioned pictures I had mentioned. 

"You looked really different here" he chuckles and I walk over and put the picture frame face down, not wanting him to have to see that image for any longer. 

"I didn't have much of a choice back then. Plus you know that was the style back then" I explain and hand him the clothes before resting against the desk, making sure he doesn't try to look at it again.

He hums and takes the clothes making my eyes furrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask but he smiles and shakes his head. "Nothing" he says and places the clothes on the desk next to me. 

"What do you mean it's nothing? It has to be something if you're acting like that" I huff and glare at him as he looks away, clearly more amused at this situation than I can comprehend. "I just had an image in my head of you always dressing like you usually do" he says and looks down at me, making me realize just how little space is left between us.

"How do I usually dress?" I ask, knowing the answer but wanting him to elaborate, wanting to know exactly what he thinks about the way that I dress. "You know, all dark and scary" he smirks and places both of his hands on either side of my hips on the desk, leaning down to my height making me back away from him. 

"You think I'm scary?" I scoff and look away, trying to hide how much his close proximity has caught me off guard. "I used to" he hums making me look at him, his honesty although obvious is peculiar to admit at this point. 

"And now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper making the corner of his mouth upturn but before he's able to respond another roar of thunder smashes us out of our "Moment" if you could even call it that. Embarrassingly forcing me to cling onto him as if my life depended on it, with him on instinct wrapping his arms around my waist to keep me steady, now realizing just how scared I truly am.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay" he says in a hushed tone, pulling me even closer, him feeling the rapid beating of my heart through my chest. 

He rests his head on top of mine with me practically trying to crawl into his chest with how close I'm trying to be and he finds it endearing to say the least. "You're safe, I got you" he says, after another one roars, making me cling onto him, practically shaking at this point. 

"How do you know?" I mumble against his chest and he pushes me away and leans down so he could be at my level. I look away again, this time trying to hide how completely embarrassed I am for being so scared of something that I know is silly but I can't help it. 

He tilts his head trying to catch my glance and when that doesn't work he cups my cheek and brings me back over to him but even then in my stubbornness when I still won't look at him he tilts my chin up and I finally relinquish to his efforts. 

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you" he says softly and I nod before going back in, knowing that at the end of the day he's the one who's gonna keep me safe. 

No matter what he's always gonna be there for me...and that's what scares me.

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[hazydoe]

Farmer's Daughter

Warning +18 only age-gap,Explicit sexual relations, explicit language,dynamic power

Note:English is not my first language so I apologize in advance if I make any spelling or grammatical mistakes. Many thanks to everyone who read the first chapter of Redemption

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. Joel looked toward the farmhouse in the distance. The place seemed peaceful, surrounded by fields of wheat swaying gently in the wind. He took a deep breath and moved forward, feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. It wasn’t the first time he’d made this kind of delivery, but he never felt comfortable in such open spaces, so far from the noise of the city.

As he approached the main house, a figure appeared on the porch. It was a young woman, no older than twenty, with messy brown hair and hands busy with a large basket of strawberries. She wore a worn-out overall and boots. Her alert eyes locked onto Joel with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Hello?” she asked, her voice firm but slightly trembling.

“I’m Joel,” he replied, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “I have a delivery for your father. He said he’d be here today.”

The young woman frowned and looked down for a moment before meeting his gaze again.

“My father isn’t here. He had to go to the nearest town for supplies. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Joel nodded slowly, assessing the situation. He didn’t like leaving the delivery with someone other than the intended recipient, but he couldn’t afford to come back another day. He had other matters to attend to, and the trip to the farm had been long.

“I understand,” he said finally. “Can you handle it? It’s important.”

She hesitated for a moment but then nodded with determination.

“Yes, I can. Come in.”

Joel followed her inside the house. The place was modest but cozy, with rustic wooden furniture and open windows. On a nearby table, there was a disassembled rifle, and Joel noticed the young woman casting nervous glances at him. He didn’t blame her. In such an isolated place, distrust was understandable.

“What’s your name?” Joel asked as he set his bag down on the floor.

“Lena,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t worry, I know how to handle these things. My father has taught me everything I need to know.”

Joel gave a half-smile. There was something about Lena that reminded him of Sarah, his daughter. That mix of innocence and determination that only young people who had grown up in tough environments could have.

“Good,” he said, opening the bag and pulling out a box of tools. “Here you go. Tools and some spare parts for the tractor. Your father and I agreed on an exchange.”

Lena nodded and took the box, placing it carefully on the table. Then she walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a cloth bag.

“Here’s what you agreed on,” she said, handing it to Joel. “Some money and a few preserves we made this summer. I hope it’s enough.”

Joel quickly checked the contents and nodded.

“It’s just what we need. Thanks.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as they looked at each other with curiosity, each assessing the other. Joel noticed Lena’s beauty, her body covered by the fabric of her jeans. Lena noticed Joel’s strong arms, his dark hair, and the marks of age on his face. Finally, Lena broke the ice.

“Are you a mechanic?” she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“Something like that,” Joel replied, shrugging.

She nodded, as if she understood perfectly.

“I think I’d better go,” Joel said, looking intently at the young girl.

Joel walked down the path leading back to his truck, but something stopped him. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about Lena that made him stay, something that drew him in beyond the simple transaction. Maybe it was her eyes and the way they looked at him with curiosity and maybe even desire.

Lena was still on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with one leg resting on the railing, watching him with those eyes that seemed to see right through him. Joel slowly approached, feeling the air between them charged with a tension he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you need something else?” Lena asked, her voice soft but firm.

Joel stopped a few steps away from her, looking directly into her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “Maybe I just need a moment.”

Lena studied him for a moment, as if deciding whether to trust him. Then, with a calm movement, she stepped down from the porch and walked toward him. Joel could feel the warmth of her body, the scent of earth and fresh grass that surrounded her.

“My father won’t be back until tomorrow,” Lena said, her voice now barely a whisper.

Joel felt a shiver run down his spine. He wasn’t a man who let his emotions take over easily, but there was something about Lena that made him lose control. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between them and took her by the waist, feeling her tense for a moment before relaxing in his arms.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” Joel murmured, though his actions said otherwise.

“Maybe not,” Lena replied, bringing her face closer to his. “But it is.”

Their lips met in a slow but passionate kiss, filled with a need neither of them had admitted until that moment. Joel felt the world around him fade away, leaving only Lena and the warmth radiating from her. His hands explored her back, feeling the tension in her muscles, as she pulled him closer, as if she couldn’t stand the distance between them.

“Joel,” Lena murmured between kisses, her voice trembling but full of desire.

He didn’t respond with words but with actions. He lifted her effortlessly, feeling her wrap around him, and carried her back inside the house. The door closed behind them, and Joel pressed her against the wall, never breaking the contact between their lips. Lena held him tightly, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.

“This is crazy,” Joel said, though his hands were already unbuttoning Lena’s overalls.

“Don’t worry, I’ve always hoped someone attractive would pass by here,” she replied, sliding her hands under his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back.

Joel couldn’t resist. The need he had been suppressing for years surfaced, and he let Lena guide him to her room, a small space with a bed covered in white sheets. He gently laid her down on the bed, looking at her with an intensity that made Lena hold her breath. His hands explored every inch of her body, feeling her respond to every touch, every caress.

“Joel,” Lena whispered, arching toward him. “Don’t stop.”

He had no intention of doing so. With slow but deliberate movements, Joel undressed her, revealing the soft, warm skin hidden beneath the layers of clothing. Lena looked at him with eyes full of desire, and Joel felt his own body respond to the intensity of her gaze.

“You’re too beautiful,” Joel murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Lena held him tightly, feeling the world around her fade away, leaving only Joel and the warmth radiating from him. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt natural, as if they were destined to meet in that moment.

“Joel,” Lena moaned, burying her hands in his hair. “Don’t leave.”

He didn’t respond with words but with actions. He removed the only piece of clothing she wore under her overalls—a pair of white panties. Joel took a condom from his wallet, creating a small, painful distance between them to put it on his large member. Lena looked down to see it, a small smile of amazement on her face.

“It’s too big for me, Joel,” she said as she kissed him uncontrollably. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you enjoy it,” he said, positioning himself at her entrance.

He thrust in for the first time, bracing himself against the headboard of the bed. Both were a mess, moaning after the first thrust.

He pulled out completely, catching Lena off guard, and then thrust back in with a strong, painful motion. Lena began to tear up.

Joel pulled away for a moment to give her a break and stimulate her breasts. They were the perfect size, fitting perfectly in his hand. He took one roughly and lazily licked her nipple, looking up at her to see her reaction. She only moaned in response to the pleasure. He lowered his arm and grabbed his member, massaging it against her leg as he realized that, due to their height difference, he couldn’t reach her sweet spot.

Joel realized what she wanted and stopped licking and biting her breasts, leaving them red and marked by him. He helped fulfill her desire by rubbing his member against her clit.

“I knew it from the moment I saw you,” Joel said as he thrust hard into her. “Knew what?” Lena asked, arching like a cat in pleasure. “That you were too needy for cock. Did you think I didn’t notice how innocent you were pretending to be? Daddy’s little girl, what would he think if he found out you slept with an older man?”

“He’d probably be mad because from now on, I won’t be able to be without you.”

Joel continued to move firmly, feeling Lena adjust perfectly to him. His hands gripped her hips tightly, leaving marks on her skin. Lena moaned with each thrust, her nails digging into Joel’s back, drawing red lines he barely felt in his ecstasy.

“What else do you want, Lena?” Joel asked in a hoarse voice, his lips brushing her ear. “Tell me.”

Lena could barely form words, but her eyes begged for more. Joel smiled, satisfied, and changed the angle of his movements, searching for that spot that would make her scream. When he found it, Lena arched her back, a muffled cry escaping her lips.

“Joel!” she screamed, her hands clutching him as if he were her only anchor in a sea of pleasure.

Joel didn’t slow down, feeling his own climax approaching. His hands moved to Lena’s breasts, massaging them firmly, feeling her nipples harden under his fingers. Lena moaned, her body trembling beneath his, each of Joel’s movements bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Baby, you’re going to come,” Joel murmured, his words a hot whisper against Lena’s skin. “Let it go.”

And she did. With a muffled cry, Lena let herself be carried away by the wave of pleasure, her body convulsing beneath Joel’s. He held her, feeling his own orgasm hit, filling her with each final thrust.

When they finally stopped, both panting, Joel collapsed beside Lena, pulling her to rest against his chest. Lena curled up against him, her breathing still uneven.

“That was...” Lena began, but Joel interrupted her with a soft kiss.

“You don’t need to say it,” Joel said, stroking her hair. “I know.”

Lena smiled, closing her eyes as she relaxed against him. Joel held her, feeling a strange sense of peace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Maybe this wouldn’t change anything, but for a moment, it had been perfect.

[jscrawls]

Grave mistakes

Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?

Warning: contains mentions of kidnapping, threats, torture, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,

Part 4: gardening errors

🔹🔹🔹

You're not quite sure what circumstances lead to this, but here you are regardless.

It started as any normal morning for you in your new home, your routine caffeine fix and then you spent an hour in the play room wallowing in despair and shrieking in torment as the spirits watched on. Then you made yourself waffles.

As you were out tending to your garden and ripping up the colorful lilies hidden in one of the hedges something strange happened, a noise behind you, and then darkness.

You were disappointed to wake up, though finding yourself tied up and hanging upside down raised your mood a bit. Hyenas growl hungrily underneath your form as drool slowly drips from their chops, a strange green miasma is in the air around you. You slowly realize you're in some kind of greenhouse judging by the clear roof and the plants everywhere.

“I see you're awake.” A feminine voice purrs from somewhere behind you, you can't turn your head enough to see them but you don't have to, they slowly stroll into view and stand under you next to the hyenas. Her hair is long and blood red, her skin green and she seems to be wearing a green body suit covered in vines, this is an interesting turn of events!

“Hello there ma'am! Nice to meet you, Is this a torture thing?” It's a struggle to keep your voice even, not wanting to give away how excited you are when one of the hyenas jumps and tries to snap at you. A good torture session should have some build up after all.

The woman chuckles, taking the tremble in your voice as horror as she smirks. “right to the point are we? No my sweet, it's not torture….. Yet. Not if I get My way here.” with a slight flick of her wrist some of the plants around her shift and twist, vines crawling up from the ground to gently wrap around your throat, A threat. You can't suppress the shiver going down or up? your spine. The woman chuckles again.

“Not yet? What's the wait my friend, are we expecting more company first?” It's a bit hard to keep your eyes on her when she starts stalking around the room, you frown when the vines release you and sink back down into the ground.

“Oh I almost forgot myself, please forgive my lack of manners miss, my name is-” “I know who you are, I know everything I need to know about you. How you come here and start throwing money around, paying that filthy company to keep producing their chemicals regardless of how many plants choke and die on their disgusting fumes. How you bought that land no doubt to drain the swamp on it, how you-are you giggling?”

She cuts off her monologue to stomp towards you, standing just under your head as she scowls up at you, rage burning in her pretty green eyes.

“Are you serious right now?” She hisses, hands clenching into fists while the plants around you twist and curl towards you, some starting to wrap around you once again.

“Oh no, please continue! I love a good monologue my dear friend. It's just that hanging like this has a fun little dizzying effect, blood drowning the brain and all.” You say with a smile as you look down at her, the vines starting to cut off your air supply.

She frowns at you and crosses her arms, blood colored lip curling into a sneer. “Why you-” “red! Finish the demands before ya start popping heads! You're putting us at stake here!” An exasperated voice yells, another woman joining the first.

This one's in red and black, short split dyed hair and skin so pale as if it's been bleached, she could almost rival Morticia’s sickly tone.

The woman apparently named Red rolls her eyes a bit, but wraps an arm around the others waist, they both look up at you as the vines again release you and drop into the dirt.

“Right…. Here's the deal Richie, we want money. Lots of it in fact, your people are gonna get it to us if they want you alive and well. You understand?” They both look up at you expectantly, the hyenas circle around Underneath you.

“I understand perfectly, how much do you want to torture me?”

They give each other confused like while you smile down at them, sweat starting to gather on your forehead from hanging upside down by your feet for so long.

After a few seconds the red head speaks again, tone aggravated. “What?”

“How much money do you want? I'd like this to continue and I understand your time is very valuable.”

“…. Did you not hear me?” The red head huffs, the other woman leans over to whisper loudly in the others ear. “Maybe I hit em in the head too hard?”

“i heard you just fine! you need money yes? i can pay you myself after the torture, or do you intend to kill me? you can get ahold of my dear relative morticia should i pass. wait have you seen my phone? i want to tell her or gomez the good news!” the split dyed hair one stares up at you with a look of concern, she pulls a familiar phone out of her pocket and looks down at it before glancing back up at you. “….i don’t think this is goin to plan, red.”

the redhead snatches the phone from the other, rolling her eyes while turning it on. “you’re not psyching us out, masochist. what’s the passcode for this? if you don’t tell me i’ll watch as my little babies grow from your eyesockets.”

“it’s 666.” “oh, of fucking course-alright i’m calling your emergency contact, i’m getting our damn money.” she huffs, pacing in circles as she dials and holds the phone up to her ear.

“come on…come on…finally, ahem, are you mx addamses emergency contact?…..this is their kidnapper. i’m calling to tell you that they’re going to be brutally tortured within the hour if you don’t gather a small sum of one million dollars and send proof of bank statements to this phone or else-huh?……”

after a moment she lowers the phone and stares at the other woman.

“….a little girl just told me ‘good for them’ and hung up on me.”

“a little girl is your emergency contact?” the split dyed hair one looks up at you questioningly as she starts to pet one of the hyenas.

you nod your head with a smile on your face. “Wednesday is actually my second emergency contact, grandmama is the first but she doesn’t have a phone.” the redhead tilts her head in confusion, dropping your phone carelessly on the moss covered ground. “then how do you contact them?” she mutters skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest. “depends where she is, usually via smoke signal or seance depending on her living status.”

“….so your emergency people is your living or dead grandmother and a little girl that doesn’t care if you’re being tortured?”

“there’s also cousin it, but essentially yes.”

the redhead sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something unintelligible under her breath as she turns away from you and goes to sit on a vine covered bench.

the split dye one looks back and forth between you and the other woman, after a moment she shoos the hyenas away. “…..so, how’s about we talk about torture thing, eh? you seem ta be into that sorta thing, i won’t yuck ya yum if you’re actually gonna pay coinage for it.”

the redhead whips around to glare at the other one. “we are not doing bdsm for money! we’re not that desperate harl.” the plants around her slowly curl towards her, leaves and flowers brushing against her as if in comfort.

“well we might as well get sumthin outta this! we need the doe and pronto.”

you watch them bicker back and forth for a few moments in polite silence, your head aching more and more as the blood rushes to your head. after a bit you speak up loud enough for them to hear you over their arguement.

“excuse me my friends, can i ask what prompted this kidnapping and attempted ransom? it sounds like you’re both out of sorts here.”

the one apparently named harl quickly speaks up. “we got booted out of our apartment.” the other woman stands up angrily. “harley!”

harley glances over her shoulder, her lips pressing together in a pout. “what?”

the redhead pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly agitated as she approaches the harley lady. “you can’t tell them anything you idiot! they’re our victim not our therapist.”

“well they asked!”

you speak up again, one of the wriggling vines bumping into you and causing you to spin in a circle like some kind of torturous carnival ride. “kidnapping victim or not, i can have sympathy for someone going through a bad time. how’d you get removed from your home?” your voice sounds odd as you Spin back and forth, you're starting to get really dizzy.

Harley whips towards you, hair smacking her in the face as she righteously gestures. “they were homophobic!”

The redhead rolls her eyes and walks over to push on Harley’s face as she corrects her. “that’s not what happened, apparently the landlord found someone’s record.” she gives Harley a pointed look.

Harley pushes the hand off her face and points at your still spinning form as if to convince you of her side of things. Giving you an overly emotional look as she fends off the redheads attempts to shut her up. “well it sure seemed like he was homophobic when we's both broke into his place, you shoulda heard im when he realized who was under the ski masks!”

Your brows furrow as sweat drips off your forehead, your vision getting blurry as you finally stop spinning and you try to look at the two women below you.

“that’s very sad, a little devious activity shouldn’t lead to you losing your place, i can relate to that quite intimately actually.”

“really?” you hear both ask with differing tones, one sounding unenthusiastic in comparison to the other. You nod as best you can. “yes, that’s the whole reason i moved to this beautiful city!….we’re still in the city right?”

“maybe…..”Harley looks away from you and whistles innocently as she casually reaches over to pet a carnivorous plant.

That's good enough for you, you wriggle a hand free to pull a handkerchief out of your pocket so you can wipe your forehead clean, when you're done you tuck your hand back under your binds. “are you still looking for a place to stay?”

the redhead tilts her head in confusion while Harley replies. “why’d you think we want your money?” she looks away from the plant and walks under you, swatting at your jacket when it smacks her in the face.

“harley can you not?” the other woman is clearly exasperated as she all but hisses her words out, stomping over to try to drag Harley away from you. “May I remind you that we're threatening to kill them?”

You're unperturbed as you press on, watching them whisper loudly to each other right under your upside down figure. “do you want a place?”

Harley immediately perks up, a big grin on her face as she whips around to loom up at you. “are you offering?-” the redhead groans loudly and grabs the other woman by the upper arm and pulls her away while trying to cover her mouth. “absolutely not! we’re not going near the bdsm weirdos house after we kidnapped them, it’s never happening harl. i’m putting my foot down.”

“…”

Harley starts to tear up in silence, staring at the other woman with big glassy eyes as she works up some tears.

🔹🔹🔹

“i hate the manipulative tears.” the redhead, whom you’ve learned is named pamela, growls at harley as she roughly drops down on your couch with crossed arms.

“free room and board, red. keyword free, my lovely little murderous plant.” harley flops over beside her, wincing when a spring digs into her back, she still makes herself comfortable on pamela’s lap though.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: I apologize if the flow is off in this one, I wrote it while feverish y'all bear with me 🤷‍♀️

Taglist: @lunarapple @ladykamos

[btsworldz]

THE LOVER - Jimin x Reader

yandere! cupid jimin x reader

yandere jimin, jimin is a cupid, needy jimin, unhinged jimin, possessive jimin

Jimin was pacing back and forth in an anxious manner. He was grinding his nails in his teeth, before Taehyung put his hand down. “Stop,” he simply said to Jimin. Their eyes met, Taehyung’s eyes flashed concern while Jimin’s eyes flash anxiety.

“He didn’t look, calm yourself down. If Hoseok were to look at what you’ve done, he would’ve snitch the moment he turned his back on you. It has been a day and nothing happened to you.”

“Yet!” Jimin cried a little, his body rock back and forth. He didn’t want to be cast away, and be turned into some stupid human over some tiny mistake.

Taehyung put his hand behind Jimin’s shoulder to ground him. “Relax. If this makes you feel better, Yoongi is an angel friend of mine. Well, he once was an angel, before he made a grave mistake and cast down as a human.” Jimin looked at him horrified, which Taehyung immediately corrected himself.

“Which, you didn’t do. The entire angel race was gossiping about him, he was helping a human against God’s will. But when he got cast away, I heard from another angel that he spotted Yoongi on earth. And when they passed each other Yoongi didn’t seem to recognize him! So I guess the rumors are true, when you get cast away as a human you lost your memories.”

Jimin pondered over his words. His mind is empty. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. I hate being a human, much more when I didn’t know I was a superior race before I became a human.”

“Whoa, careful there with your wordings. Don’t want an angel to catch you being prideful.” Taehyung chuckled at his own pathetic joke.

Jimin didn’t know what to do. He was just only messing around, he was bored at his job and he felt like he did no harm. The job was still done and in his mind that was his only goal. It wasn’t his fault that the cupid’s job procedure was a boring process and not as effective as his ways.

It was yesterday night. When he saw his target. A young female, her name is Y/n, she likes this and this and that. Bla bla bla, Jimin closed the book before he could read the boring bits much longer. The man who was going to cross the street, Jeon Jungkook, was going to be her pair. Jimin grabbed his bow and arrow when he was about to strike it into Jeon Jungkook’s heart he put it down. A thought went into his head.

He looked around making sure there’s no other cupid or angel on sight. He grabbed his arrow by his own hand, and strike it to Jungkook's heart. His method was much faster, he had done it before.

The arrow creating a dent on his supple hand, he winced a little at the uncomfortable feeling but made up his mind when he was face to face with Jeon Jungkook. He pierced the arrow to his heart and the man physically stop. Jimin could see his pupils dilated as he looked at the other target, Y/n.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Jungkook said with a smile, stopping Y/n with his hand.

Jimin saw this and smiled to himself. I knew this would work. He thought to himself.

Usually, he must have strikes ten arrows first before it gets to the point where the man asked the woman for her time. And Jimin knew it would be double the amount when he read Jeon Jungkook’s description, as the man was described as being super shy.

In his moment of glory he didn’t notice a spying eyes. But then he caught glimpse of familiar eyes that belongs to none other than Jung Hoseok, the snitchiest of the snitch.

Jimin’s blood run cold for a second, but he quickly masked it with a smile and a gentle nod onto Hoseok’s direction. There's a possibility where Hoseok didn't know what he just did.

Hoseok smiled back awkwardly before he turned his back away.

Oh he definitely looked.

Fast forward to the now, where Jimin was anxious of being cast down from heaven.

Suddenly a big door appears in front of him and Taehyung. Gushes of wind hit their face. Jimin spiraled into a panic state. “No no no no no!”

Get in.

A voice so powerful entered their systems, that Jimin and Taehyung can’t help but be on their knees within seconds. Both of them have matching tears running down their face and both hands planted on to their thighs.

Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Get in.

They didn’t wait for any seconds more wasted, before their body automatically flying through the golden door. The scenery looked like a field of clouds with no ends. But far from their right, stood a figure that answered all of their answers. Jung Hoseok, looking at them with guilt.

“No no no.” Jimin whispered, knowing that he was screwed right at that moment.

Hoseok, speak.

Hoseok groggily speak. “God, I saw Jimin… h-he used his hand with the arrow. It’s against the rules!”

Jimin, is that true?

“No! I would never do that God! Please believe me!” Jimin was on his knees, his hand’s begging upwards, his cries constant as he lied through his teeth.

Taehyung. Is what he said true?

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to cry again. He didn’t know what to do now he was faced with God. He was all talk no action kind of guy. He mouthed sorry to Jimin.

“No, God. He lied to you.” Taehyung said throwing his best friend under the bus.

“You bitch.” Jimin sneered, before he could reach Taehyung and snatch his golden silky hair from his roots.

He felt an unimaginable pain in his chest, as he screamed with no voice coming out of his lips. It was too painful that he forgot his intention from seconds ago to make his friend bald. He looked down and there it is, an arrow. A golden big arrow that he had never seen before, deeply seated in his chest.

He felt the ground underneath him gone as he lost his balance, then he was pushed by a strong wind. He was falling to nobody knows where as he looked at Hoseok’s and Taehyung’s guilty face looking down at him.

You will now receive your punishment, Park Jimin.

Jimin woke up from his slumber feeling out of breath with his heart beating faster than usual. He woke up feeling startled, he assumed it was like that dream where you feel like you’re falling from the sky. That kind of feeling.

He looked at himself in the mirror and fixed his hair, before looking at the clock. 06.00 am.

He still got his time to prepare for work. He showered, prepare his breakfast, and most importantly his coffee. He glanced at the way the other door hasn’t opened yet.

“Jungkook, get up boy-”

To his surprise, Jungkook opened the door before he can knock more than a hundred times. And to top it all with a smile on his face. Last time Jimin check, the boy is depressed as hell and definitely not a morning person, hell, he’s not even a noon person. He’s barely even a person.

“You’re… different. A good different!” Jimin corrected himself quickly, afraid that his words would make the younger man went back to his default.

“I am! I think I’m in love, hyung.”

Jimin widened his eyes. Before he took a deep breath, "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not gay.”

“Ew. Hell no. With a girl!” Jungkook said, his face getting red.

"A girl?" Jimin almost choked. "You barely know anyone. Jungkook, congrats you're getting big boy." Jimin gave him a pat on the back and a side hug, but he noticed a certain expression on the younger man's face.

“Wait are you blushing? What is wrong with you?! Are you okaaaayyy?”

“I’m okay hyung.” The younger man chuckled, swatting Jimin’s palm from his forehead. “I met a girl yesterday, and I think… I fall in love at first sight. It’s weird, but she’s the sweetest thing ever. I’m usually not like this but I think I’m crazy for her.”

“Woah… slow down lover boy. Just yesterday I thought you are never-a-lover boy, and now look at you…. Is this girl an angel or something? What do you mean you’re crazy for her? Let’s start there. Not gonna lie, it’s so weird seeing you like this.”

“You see. We just met right, so I kinda don’t think it’s appropriate to ask anything more than her name. But I got her a coffee and talk to her, and when she was in a bathroom, I know this is wrong… but I can’t help it! I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”Jungkook paused to bite his lips.

“What did you do?”

Jungkook gulped from Jimin’s accusing tone.

“I… looked through her phone.” Jungkook saw the disappointment flashed Jimin’s eyes, so he quickly explained in a hurry. “To make sure that I don’t cross someone’s territory!”

“You could’ve just asked?!”

“You see… it’s kind of an instinct.”

“Well, the deed has been done. Let’s not do anything immoral again. You’re going on a second date with this girl I assumed?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said with no doubt at all. Jimin almost puked from the way he even sounded like he’s in love.

“Alright lover boy, good luck to you!”

Curiosity kills the cat.

That's what they always say. But Jimin ain't no cat, and he ain't one to stick around with a "let's just wait and see" attitude. So here he is, wearing black from his head to toe. His fanciest attire.

Since little Jungkook decided to take this love-at-first-sight-girl to the fanciest place on town.

He didn't think it through before he paid for an all course meal fine dining for two pax minimum, but now he kinda regretting his decision. Since poor Jungkook was waiting alone with the most sad eyes he had seen.

Jimin can't take it anymore, he got up from his seat and wanted to drag Jungkook home. But his shoulder bumped into something.

"Sorry."

"It's ok-”

His breath stuck on his throat, the girl that bumped onto him must be heaven sent. There's no way someone is this beautiful. He can feel all the blood pumping onto and from his heart. His brain short circuited looking at the girl.

"Y/n! you came! What- Hyungg?"

Oh Shit.

[n0vazsq]

Gasoline | Pablo Gavi x Reader

pairing . . . gavi x gf!reader

summary . . . When the world starts shipping him with random girls and influencers, Gavi decides to soft launch you two to shut them up. Little did he know, that only escalated things more, leading him to 'accidentaly' post a picture of you two on his social media.

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . gang nvm the name i was gonna do angst and this is a random ass fic bc i'm not uploading smh </3 anyway it's short and not proofread so ignore any typos or mistakes ALSO ITS VERY CRINGE I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO PROVIDE IM SORRY

. . . "Are you sure I can post this, amor?" Pablo said, eyes full of concern as he searched your face for any hint of hesitance. This morning, he had come into your shared room, huffing and sighing as he showed you what seemed like the millionth edit of someone shipping him with an influencer.

You really didn't mind those edits, in fact, you quite enjoyed seeing Gavi get mad and annoyed at them. He had always complained to you about this, and even warned you about when you two first started dating. It was hilarious to see him pace around the room in frustration.

"I am sure, carino. Post as many pictures as you want, as long as you're happy, I guess." You shot him a playful grin, as he laughed and started showing you the collection of pictures he chose to post.

One was of your hands clasped together in front of a beautiful lake, another was of him hugging you with his face buried in your hair, another was one of you two making snow angels in the snow.

Pablo, of course, had made sure your face wasn't visible in any of these pictures, not even remotely. You saw him checking the selection of pictures over and over again, as if your face would magically appear in one of them. And when you tried to take the phone from his hands to post the pictures, he gave you a vexed face and continued inspecting.

Finally, after what seemed like millenniums, the soft launch was posted. Not even a minute later, there were over a thousand notifications, with almost eighy percent of them asking who the 'mystery woman' was. You glanced at your phone, seeing a few people mentioning you in the post.

Pablo groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair as he scrolled through the comments.

"WHO IS SHE???"

"I NEED ANSWERS. ASAP"

"this has to be an influencer bc there's no way he's soft launching some normal girl."

"omggg is it (random influencer's name)??"

You bit your lip, stifling a laugh as Pablo's jaw clenched. His grip on the phone tightened, and he let out a frustrated sigh before tossing it onto the bed.

"This is worse than before," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"I mean…" you teased, nudging his side. "You did post the pictures. Did you really think they'd just say ‘okay’ and move on?"

Pablo groaned again, flopping onto the bed dramatically. "Amor, they're literally coming up with theories already. Look at this one." He held up his phone, showing you a tweet where someone had zoomed in on your hand and was trying to match your ring to different influencers.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "No way, are they seriously investigating my jewelry now?"

Pablo sat up, huffing. "This was supposed to shut them up, not make them even more annoying." His brows furrowed as he swiped through more comments. "You know what?" His voice had that familiar stubborn edge, the same one he had whenever he decided to prove a point.

"What?" you asked, watching as he opened his camera roll.

"If they want a picture so bad," he muttered, tapping furiously at his phone, "I'll give them one."

Before you could even process what was happening, he had posted a picture, one that he definitely hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t just another soft launch shot; it was a full on, undeniable, exposed confirmation.

A mirror selfie. You, standing in front of him, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your face wasn’t even hidden, just slightly turned, but clear enough for people to recognize you.

Your jaw dropped. "Pablo!"

His rubbed the back of his neck slowly as he realized what he had done. "Mierda." His phone buzzed like crazy, notifications rolling in at an unstoppable speed.

"GAVI JUST HARD LAUNCHED AND I CAN'T BREATHE"

"NO WAY DID HE POST THIS BY ACCIDENT????"

"THE MYSTERY GIRL HAS A FACE. WE HAVE A FACE"

"she's so pretty omg?? i'm obsessed"

Your eyes narrowed as you studied Pablo’s face. His lips were pressed together like he was trying way too hard to look innocent, but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. "Did you really just-" You smacked his arm lightly, still in shock. "Pablo." You crossed your arms. "Did you just accidentally hard launch us?"

He blinked. "Si?"

You smacked his arm again. "You so did that on purpose!"

A guilty grin finally broke through his fake confusion, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

You gasped. "Pablo!"

"What?" he said, feigning innocence. "They were annoying me, amor. I had to make it clear. I'm your boyfriend, and I wanted everyone to know it." He leaned in, tilting his head slightly. "You're mad?"

You huffed, trying to hold onto your fake outrage, but the way he was looking at you; so smug yet so utterly whipped, made it impossible. "You could've at least warned me before declaring to the entire world that I'm your girlfriend."

Pablo just grinned, completely unbothered. "Where's the fun in that?" He held up his phone again, scrolling through the chaos he had created. "Mira esto," he said, showing you a tweet.

"GAVI REALLY SAID "HERE SHE IS, NOW SHUT UP" HELPPP"

"so…when's the wedding?"

"BRO IS WHIPPED LMFAOOO"

You bit your lip, warmth creeping up your neck and cheeks as you read the endless comments. The fans were going crazy, but instead of speculating or hating, they were supporting.

Pablo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Carino, I'd do it again, you know." His voice was softer now, more serious. "I don't care what people say. I just wanted everyone to know that I'm yours, and you're mine."

Your heart melted right then and there.

With a dramatic sigh, you shook your head. "You're still an idiot."

He grinned widly. "Tu idiot." And before you could argue, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips; undeniable proof that, yeah, maybe he did know exactly what he was doing.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl ,, @iamred-iamyellow (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[multiheadcanons]

A LITTLE EXTRA FOR THE DOLLS. HEAVY AND MEDIC GET MARRIED. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

heavy proposed in a very unconventional way. medic did not take it very well.

they were reading separate books, together in the hall leading to the infirmary, in silence. he slid a golden band on the side table that was between them. he didn’t speak, or make a grand statement of it, just made sure to angle it so the glint caught the doctor’s eye.

and the doctor did notice. he was not cool about it. “that’s not funny.” is all he could say. as heavy insisted, the doctor’s face notably scrunched up in a strange combination of emotions. he looked like he just got shot. but he was also bright red.

it was time to share some secrets.

medic opened up— very hesitantly— without removing his face from the book, about his prior marriage. a woman he called the love of his life. his childhood best friend, the woman who knew him better than he dares to ever know himself. genevieve. and the doctor isn’t paying any attention as heavy’s face pales.

and heavy isn’t thinking as the only thing that exits his mouth, as the doctor is genuinely baring his soul to him, talking about this brilliant woman who fundamentally shifted his view in love and marriage and life itself; the only thing heavy can think to say is “isn’t that… demo’s genevieve?”

the silence that fell in that room. the doctor stopped mid sentence and did not close his mouth. he turned, so controlled in the slow movement, to the heavy weapons guy. and stared at him, slack jawed. harder than he’s ever stared at the man before. an active craze brewed in the doctor’s eyes. heavy kept calm, hoping that if there was any time the doctor would follow suit it would be right now. and for a solid twenty seconds, he had confidence. nobody spoke, but they maintained eye contact and heavy felt he had a handle on the situation. he was so confident he was going to disarm this bomb.

he was confident until he saw the book snap shut. and they held eye contact. and then the doctor carelessly tossed the book up. that is where heavy made the mistake of breaking eye contact, and in a swift motion, medic grabbed the ring and stormed away.

heavy had officially lost control of the situation. before he moved to chase, he went for the medigun.

and the doctor was like a robot. it did not take him long to locate where the louder teammates were. he was honed in, ring grasped tightly in his hand. and him slamming the door to the common area caught their attention immediately.

he took stock of who was in the room.

scout. soldier. pyro. engineer. demo.

there’s the son of a bitch.

and frankly, demo could tell from the look in the doctor’s eyes exactly what was about to transpire and for exactly what reason. there was nothing he could do but brace for it, and maybe do him the favor of meeting him halfway. he didn’t have time for the second before the doctor had crossed the room.

maybe he could’ve told medic earlier and moved past this.

it didn’t matter, demo hit the floor before anyone had time to react. luckily, they were close enough to grab the doctor before he could really start to do damage. he didn’t fight them either, and everyone looked at demo for answers as he stumbled to his feet and shook his head.

“it’s alright; i’m alright… i had that coming. long time coming. alright, doc…” he cracked his neck, and stared at the doctor, notably sobered from the hit. “firstly: hell of an arm you got there. we need to have a chat.”

“you need to be rotting out in the desert. we do need to have a chat.” the doctor replied, calm for a man who literally walked in swinging.

“are you gonna hit me again?”

“yes.”

“…fair enough.”

and they left the room as heavy entered, medigun slung across his back.

“…am i too late?”

the team didn’t see much of demo, or the doctor for about a week, initially. and when they did, they were engaged in silent conversation, their faces set in grief. in anger. in regret and contempt and pity and ache and despair. the team watched as their faces shifted through the days to broken resignation. sometimes the team would walk by and see them both with their heads on the mess hall table, slumped against each other, the bags under their eyes evident as they caught precious seconds of sleep that they weren’t getting otherwise. they would see the men crumble out of their peripheries. their tear streaks would hit the light as they passed by and they would simply continue to walk. but cries echoed through the halls of the base for weeks. the doctor wouldn’t look at anyone, his hands remained balled into fists and his face twisted in snarls. demo wouldn’t speak to anyone, even if he was addressed first, just shook his head and continued on. it showed in battle as they caught their breath in alleyways, and as their enemies passed they would catch glimpses of them on their knees, head in their hands, and the wracked hoarse sobs were drowned by gunfire. it took months for them to begin to show signs of returning to normal. with each other. with the team.

it took a month still from normality returning on shaky legs for medic and heavy to resume their reading together. the first time was tense. talking was off the table. just the repeated tap of the doctor’s foot against the floor, getting louder and louder until it was just him slamming his foot against the ground.

“i can’t do this.”

at that point medic threw his book against the wall and stormed into the infirmary. heavy did not follow.

neither he nor that wedding band were seen again for a few days.

heavy had resigned himself to the fact that he would never see that ring again. and he had mostly resigned himself to the knowledge that if he didn’t permanently ruin his professional relationship with the doctor, they definitely weren’t together in the way that heavy wanted them to be.

he thought that until a glint caught his eye.

he gave a brief glance.

a single silver band sat on the table. large enough for his ring finger.

he closed his book. “that’s not funny. that’s not funny.”

“it’s not funny at all.” the doctor closed his book as well. “i made my decision.”

he set the book down and began to pull off his glove.

“misha. i loved genevieve. i loved her with everything i could give her. it haunted me. she haunted me, her willingness to put her life on pause to be with me and save myself from my own… shame of attraction. i couldn’t thank her enough for that. there was no display of devotion i could make, past giving her a child, to show my gratitude, and i couldn’t do that. to her, to myself, to a child.” he paused in the removal from his glove, before continuing, revealing a single golden band around his ring finger.

“then i find out she didn’t. her life never stopped. only mine did.” herbert stared at the ring around his finger, sparing a slight glance towards misha. “…i’m ready to move on. i held onto her for so long. and i’m ready to let her go.”

misha stayed quiet. he gingerly reached for the ring. he wasn’t sure it was real. but the cold metal confirmed he could believe what he was seeing. he held it in his hand. so small in comparison to his palm. so small in comparison to the scars they give each other. he stared past the ring to the scar slashed across of the life line of his palm.

he gave himself that. for his doctor.

they were already bound by blood for life.

a ring wasn’t needed, he had told himself. he’d been telling himself that for weeks now, in the certainty he had been rejected.

“i don’t want a wedding. i don’t want a honeymoon. just put it on, and we can continue to read. or give it back, and we can continue to read. either way, it’s… it’s okay. it’s alright. i’m alright. we’re alright.” misha couldn’t stop the breath of laughter. the smile that crept on his face. a ring. a ring. and he couldn’t stop a couple of tears from falling. he wiped them away quickly. it felt a little silly to cry because he got what he wanted. it took months, but he got exactly what he wanted.

“it’s… not what i expected from you. when have you ever done what i expect from you?” misha finally found words to say that made sense in his mind; sliding the ring onto his finger.

a perfect fit.

“…i want a honeymoon.”

“…we may have a honeymoon if you would like.”

misha laughed. he couldn’t help it. he looked at his hand, at its new adornment. rotated his hand. saw the glint from every angle. looked at herbert. looked back at his hand. his face felt hot, and a hand naturally reached to feel the heat. he couldn’t stop the smile from getting wider. he laughed again.

he patted the seat of the chair next to him, and held out his other hand.

“come sit next to me. properly.”

herbert’s eyes narrowed, if only slightly and for the moment. but he took a breath. he forced himself to relax. he made this decision. he needs to stick to the commitment he made.

it took many days of working, and thinking, and crying, and not sleeping to decide to say yes.

he didn’t know if he had it in him to do it again. he didn’t know if a commitment he had made, by all means at this point except traditionally, by all means felt traditionally was the right thing to do; was the best thing to do for either one of them at this point. herbert was getting older. he had held onto the ghost of a woman, held onto what he thought was love so tightly for so long, and it was shattered in less than five words. everything he thought he knew about his life was shattered in less than five words.

and herbert was no stranger to hurt. he was no stranger to misha hurting him. he was no stranger to hurting misha. physically and emotionally. they’ve fought. they argued. they’ve said things to each other they can never take back. that still hang in the air some tense days. but they’ve always made it through. come back stronger, held onto each other tighter in battle. learned each other better, maneuvered with and around each other smoother. every force against them has made them a stronger unit, closer friends, better partners.

misha completed him in undefinable ways. understood him enough to accept him fully, wholly. never asked for more than herbert said he could give. respected it. respected him. it’s obviously not a far throw to say misha loved him.

he owed the man a commitment to the grave.

he took misha’s hand and stood, closing the distance and taking his rightful place at misha’s side.

they sat, shoulder to shoulder.

hand in hand.

misha squeezed. herbert squeezed back.

they looked at each other.

spared each other uncertain smiles.

then they opened their books and continued to read.

[softpascalito]

Dulcissima I Marcus Acacius x Vestal!Reader I Chapter XII - Tears

Summary: Set before and during Gladiator II. General Acacius finds himself entranced by a highly valued priestess of Rome – A Vestal Virgin. But you both have taken vows that make sure your paths may never cross. Until they do.

Aka a fix-it fanfic where Acacius survives the Colosseum.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Vestal Virgin Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 34k+ Tags: Secret Relationship, Vestal Virgins, Religious Guilt, Gladiator fights, Gladiator II compliant (more or less), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Ancient Rome, Age Difference, Slow Burn (ish), Injury, Kissing, Historical Inaccuracy, (Attempted) Sexual Harassment, Smut, First Time, Oral Sex (f receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Slight Breeding Kink, Semi-Public Sex, More tags to be added

AO3 // Series Masterlist // Masterlist // Fic Playlist // Ko-Fi

notes: smooches to all of you and sorry for making y'all suffer a bit this time, i swear i'll make it up to you! ♡

Chapter XII - Tears

The house has long fallen silent when Acacius finally climbs the path that leads to his front door. Two or three braziers are placed between the withered plants, the flames the only spark of color in the otherwise bland winter landscape.

He tried to scrub it off. He tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest as he watched you rush out of the caldarium, your clothes and feet leaving a trail of water behind you. You looked so lost in his large cloak, the dark fabric shrouded around you like it could protect you from what was behind the doors. Acacius stood frozen to the spot, the thermae quiet enough to hear the front door close. You were gone.

He stayed still for a few more moments before he found one of the large brushes and rubbed it over his skin in the water in rough, circular motions. Trying to scrub off the guilt that settled over him. Guilt over starting this entire thing. And guilt over ending it.

It was the right thing to do, he kept reassuring himself in his own head. There was no way that you could be together. He’s not a stranger to difficult decisions, neither in battle nor his personal life. But usually they don't leave him feeling like he made a significant mistake. They don’t leave him feeling this hollow.

The image of your body in the water swims in front of his eyes. A thin sheet of water over your skin, your back arched in pleasure, his name falling from your mouth.

He fucks his own fist beside the pool before he leaves.

The night air is cold and ruthless and he hopes that you managed to be back in your bed more quickly than him, a shiver running through his body as he ascends the stone stairs towards his bedroom. He leaves his shoes outside, wanting to make as little noise as possible. The door barely creaks and the sigh of relief is already on his lips when his eyes fall on Lucilla's form on the further side of the bed, sheets draped over her body, blonde curls peeking out at the top.

Acacius slips his clothes off, finding that his skin still feels as heavy as it did before. He looks down at his own body, like he expects it to carry a written account of what he did tonight. But there is nothing there.

So, he lifts the sheets enough to crawl under them beside his wife. Despite them having agreed on this arrangement, that they remain to be seen as lovers in public, it is another complication in the situation with you. He’s certain that he’s seen Lucilla pass into the temple of Vesta on one occasion or another and knowing she is a woman of deep faith, Acacius makes a mental note to ask her about it, maybe find a reason to keep her away from the temple–and more importantly, from you. It may not do well for you to see her after tonight. Or him. Which will be difficult to upkeep, considering you are set to join him on a weeks– if not months–long trip.

The General settles on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling when he feels the bed shift beside him. And even without light, Lucilla's eyes on him feel as clear as day.

For a few moments, neither of them speak. He wonders what she is thinking but he knows better than to ask. But he doesn't have to.

“I was waiting for you.” Her voice doesn't carry a hint of accusation, sounding more like a gentle statement. A fact that is not to be changed. Like he had no choice but to leave her waiting throughout the night.

He hasn’t kept track but it must be nearing three in the morning by now.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his eyes still quite not meeting hers. “I fell asleep at my desk.” He knows she doesn't want to hear about his work but he figures it may be better than the truth.

Lucilla sighs quietly, her hand stroking his cheek, dainty fingers rubbing over his beard. “Is it the campaign? How is your chest?” Acacius shakes his head, a silent denial that they both know isn't the truth. But for the second time tonight, the words he needs to say to a woman he loves seem to be stuck in his throat.

“It is nothing of the like. It has just been a few busy days.” Brown eyes meet blue just in time for him to see her face change as her hand reaches his hair, the tips still wet from the water. He can lie to soldiers and emperors alike. But not to the person that knows him best in the world.

“I wish you would tell me the truth.” She whispers, pausing briefly before adding; “But I understand why you don't." Her lips find his cheek and Acacius reaches for her. Before he can pull her into his embrace, she has pulled him into hers. His head settles against her chest and everything seems a bit lighter with her smell around him and her steady heartbeat below his ears.

“I did not want–” He pipes up, dimly aware of how broken he suddenly sounds but Lucilla just shushes him, one hand returning to pet his hair. It's why they still sleep in the same bed. Because they understand each other and she does not even make him tell the truth. She simply lets him cry into her chest until he wears himself out.

“Acacius?” She whispers eventually, the blanket tucked tightly around both of them. “Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.” He hums, keeping his eyes closed. It feels too hard to open them.

“You will come back, right?” The tremble that was in his voice a few minutes ago is now found in hers and he inwardly curses himself for mentioning the campaign in the first place. “Promise me you will come back.”

“I always come back, my lady.” Acacius whispers, opening his eyes and looking up at her. This time with nothing but truth in his eyes. “I always come back to you.”

She nods, seemingly satisfied for now and his eyelids begin to droop again. “If not for me, come back to whoever it is that brings those tears to your eyes.” He barely registers the sentence, already drifting off into a land of dreams where you are still there, where there is no war looming and where no gods stand in your way.

***

Sleep won’t come. You braided your hair and hung your clothes out to dry the minute you snuck back into your bedroom, stuffed Acacius’s cloak deep into the wooden chest in the corner of the room, not wanting to see it, and by extension, to see him.

But the thoughts of tonight are all-consuming. His words echo in your head, occasionally interrupted by the memories of his touch or his moans.

‘I knew it was a mistake to talk to you in the temple.’

You inwardly curse yourself for ever falling for his stupid tricks, for letting yourself believe that he was actually interested in anything other than an illicit, fleeting version of love. One that you fell for because you were not supposed to have it, never did have it and likely never would. Everyone hears what they say about soldiers on the streets, about those passing through and spending their hard-earned money on whores wherever they go. You figured a General would be above such things. But clearly, you were mistaken.

The house of the Vestals is quiet at night, the women usually retiring rather early. Often, after passing through busy streets filled with drunks and thieves after nightfall, stepping back into the house below the hill with the large courtyard felt like an escape. No one bothered you here, even the lowest people too respectful to risk the safety of Rome’s priestesses.

Tonight, for the first time in very long, you don't find comfort in your room. You've never felt so much like you're stuck in a prison, your vows hanging like bars in front of your doors and windows. You have no way of avoiding Acacius, much less a way of leaving Rome.

“Oh gods–” Between the midnight meeting and the ensuing conversation, you completely forgot that you are due to leave in two days. The excitement in your stomach has turned into dread and you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You rarely cry, usually just reprimanding yourself and deciding that your tasks are too important to get caught up in such childish emotions.

But the tears keep coming, quietly flowing down your cheeks and you rush back to the chest in the corner, pulling the dark cloak out and pressing it to your front as you crawl back into bed. You sling your arms around the soft fabric and imagine that it was him, that his calloused thumb would stroke your cheeks and brush your tears away. His smell surrounds you as you drift off into a fitful sleep.

***

You manage to avoid him the next day. You’ve accepted your fate, packing up the last things and saying goodbye to your friends. After washing your hair and stepping out into the sunlight, you feel much better, like everything that happened was just a bad dream. You’re ready to be polite and nothing more, to fulfil your duty as you have been asked to. Maybe it will lessen Vesta’s grievances against you, somehow make up for the sins you have committed.

The Vestalis Maxima is waiting for you with a large package of food when you step into the common room the morning of your departure. “Here you are, dear. I will take you to the General’s house, a few soldiers are waiting outside to carry your belongings.”

“Thank you,” you smile gently, taking the package from her and making your last round of goodbyes. Severa throws her arms around your neck when it's her turn, squeezing you against her.

“Be safe. And please, tell me everything when you get back.” She practically begs, reaching out to adjust your veil one last time.

“I will,” you promise, laughing quietly. “I will leave out no detail. You be good, yes?” She promises. Then, she hugs you again until the Vestalis Maxima steps forward.

“Alright, you two. It is time to go. Are you sure you are all packed? Are your clothes thick enough? It is cold today.” She gives you a once-over much like a mother would with a child, her gaze flying over each piece of clothing like she could judge their thickness just by looking at them. You reassure her that you have prepared well and she walks you all the way up to Acacius’s house, directing the soldiers behind you that carry your belongings. Then, she asks you to be good and serve Vesta well one more time, the soldiers leave to prepare the carriage, and suddenly, you are alone in the large atrium, only a few rays of sunlight filtering in so early in the morning.

It feels odd and you’re not quite sure what to do. You know the house fairly well by now but you remind yourself that this knowledge is only a reminder of your sins so you try and erase the memories. But your eyes are drawn to the same spot you kneeled down in, the first night Acacius touched you. The fish inside the small basin are as animated as ever, small ripples following where they move under the surface.

You raise your head when you hear footsteps from upstairs and as they draw closer, they are joined by two male voices. One you can’t immediately pinpoint but the other is soft yet deep and you swallow at the thought of standing in front of Acacius again.

He appears from behind one of the columns, talking with the servant who let you write the note. When they spot you, they pause their conversation and you can see Acacius’s face change ever so slightly.

“My lady,” he says politely. “I was not informed that you had already arrived.” He nods into your direction and then turns back to the young man beside him. “Eros, why don’t you go and fetch the lady a refreshment?”

“Of course,” the man named Eros responds immediately, giving you a small smile and turning towards the back of the atrium. Your voice shakes slightly as you speak, shaking your head. Your eyes fly back to Acacius.

“That will not be necessary. I had refreshments at home and brought some for the travels.” You’re not sure why you are doing this. It may take an hour or two before you actually have to leave and the refreshments from the kitchen are surely nicer than what is stored in your bag. But the way that Acacius won’t offer you anything himself, hasn't even told you to sit down–it bothers you more than you'd like to admit.

You feel Eros hover in his spot, looking back and forth between you and the General when Acacius smiles politely. “Very well. Then bring some refreshments upstairs please. I have to have a word with some of my men.”

The servant hurries away and the awkward silence between you and Acacius is cut short by another soldier walking in, carrying several maps and showing some of them to the General. You take a few tiny steps back and forth as you watch them and for a few minutes, Acacius seems completely enraptured by what's in front of him, tracing streets and seas with his index finger. It's like you're not even there.

“Acacius.” Lucilla’s robes move around her as she hurries past you, the General’s attention immediately on her. The soldier beside you has to repeat his question twice before you hear him.

“May I take the chest to the carriage, my lady?” There is a hint of impatience in his tone but he’s too aware of your status to make it sound like a proper accusation.

“Oh, of course. I am all packed,” you say quietly, your eyes never leaving the couple on the other side of the atrium. A sad smile spreads over Acacius’s lips and you notice his hand on her waist. You silently wonder if he touches her in the same places he did you, if he uses his tongue the same way, if he moans the same way.

“I want you to take it.” She whispers, barely allowing you to make out the words. You pretend to busy yourself with your stola, fumbling with the fabric that is draped over your arm, hanging on to every word that carries through the room. “It would be my honor if you wore it. And his.”

“Lucilla–” He mutters back and out of the corner of your eye, you see her holding something up to him, something so small that it is covered by her palm. “I gave it back for a reason. I wanted you to have it again after–” Acacius drifts off, his eyes suddenly flying to yours. Caught red-handed.

You cough awkwardly and step back, keeping your head low as you all but run out of the atrium, hearing their conversation start up again as you fall out of earshot.

***

“Your Vestal may give you trouble if she decides to deem listening in on high-ranking officials like yourself as appropriate.” Lucilla jokes weakly as she presses the ring into his palm. “She does not seem scared. I would have thought she would be, so young and never been out of Rome I presume.”

“She is not that young,” Acacius immediately responds before softening his tone again. He looks down at the gold ring in his hand, running his thumb over it. “I am sure she will be fine.” It feels like he is trying to convince himself as much as Lucilla.

She glances around briefly, making sure that no soldier remains in the shadows to listen to their words. “I wanted to join them when I was younger. After Maximus and I were separated in our younger days … it seemed more merciful to live a life of purity than have my father marry me off.”

“You never told me of that.” He hopes that the woman in front of him can't notice how strained his voice has suddenly become. “Why did you decide against it?”

He can tell that he has posed the wrong question by the way her face falls slightly. Acacius takes in the small crease between her brows as her blue eyes fly back down to the ring. “I had my reasons. And I imagine I never felt pure enough. And afterall, purity is in their name.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they are very pure.” Acacius agrees quietly and their words just hang in the air for a moment. Would he have done the same if Lucilla had been wearing the veil? Would their paths even have crossed if it had not been for the loss of Maximus? Would he have touched her too, tainting her the way he had you?

A sigh leaves Lucilla’s lips, snapping him out of his thoughts, and she pats his cheek with the palm of her hand, touching him so gently that it feels like she believes he could fall apart at any moment. Not unlike you traced his scars in the thermae, like he was a vase that had been broken and was made whole again, only thin lines telling of his past. “Write when you can. And come back in one piece.”

“You know not everyone will.” Acacius whispers. Every assignment, every campaign means death. The price seems unbearably high these days.

“You are not conquering new lands. You are just keeping the peace.” Lucilla responds quietly, her eyes flying between his. She leans forward, giving him a gentle kiss. “Try and keep your own as well.”

[universefcb]

↬❥ Making out on the couch

Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

sy: His mother catching you in a hot moment.

a/n: I really hope it's what the person asked for, and I apologize if there are mistakes, English is not my native language.

warnings: Cute, smut, cute, mild smut.

The Cubarsí house was quiet that afternoon. The sun was timidly coming in through the gaps in the curtains, casting soft shadows across the living room floor. Pau and Y/N were sitting on the large dark leather sofa, a random soccer match playing on the television as a mere backdrop. Neither of them was really interested in the game — the tension between them was palpable, and every look they exchanged carried an implicit promise.

The leather couch was spacious, but the two were cramped in a corner, their bodies close, their touches starting timidly, as if testing the other's limits. Y/N bit her lip and ran her fingers slowly along Pau's thigh, feeling his muscles tense under her touch.

“Do you think we should be doing this here?” she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

Pau gave him a provocative look.

“My mom’s not home. We have time.” It was the perfect excuse. And honestly, Y/N didn’t need any more encouragement.

The game between the two began to heat up quickly. Pau pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a slow but intense kiss. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her so that she was straddling him, her knees resting on the couch. The heat between their bodies grew, each touch more daring than the last.

Y/N's fingers traveled down Pau's defined abs, feeling the muscles contract beneath her touch. He smiled against her lips before deepening the kiss even further, his firm hands gripping her waist and pressing their bodies together. She sighed against his skin, her lips trailing down his neck as his fingers traced a dangerous path down her back and thighs.

The kiss intensified. Pau moved his lips down to her neck, leaving wet kisses along the way, making her let out a muffled sigh. She arched her body against him, feeling the heat increase with each touch, with each whispered provocation against her skin.

“Barsí…” his name came out in a sigh, and he smiled in satisfaction.

Their bodies fit together perfectly, their movements gaining their own rhythm, and she could feel his erection beneath her, and he was big, not just tall. The adrenaline of the situation made everything even more intense. They were there, in the middle of the living room of the Cubarsí house, surrendered to each other without any worries.

“Pau Cubarsí! What are you doing?!”

The furious voice cut through the air like lightning, freezing the two of them instantly.

Y/N jumped off Pau's lap in reflex, her eyes wide. He, in turn, turned to the door, his face completely pale. There, standing in the entrance to the room, was Pau's mother, holding the groceries from the supermarket and looking at the two of them with an expression of pure shock and disapproval.

The silence that followed was terribly awkward.

Pau ran his hand over his face, visibly desperate.

“Mom… this… isn’t what it seems…

“It’s not what it looks like?!” she repeated in disbelief, dropping the bags on the floor. “So tell me, Pau, what does it look like?!”

Y/N wanted to disappear. Her face felt burning, her heart racing. She avoided looking at the woman at all costs, trying to pull up her clothes and fix her hair in a minimally decent way.

Pau's mother crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched.

“My living room turned into a motel and no one told me?”

Pau let out a long sigh, clearly mortified.

“Mom, please…”

“Please, what?! Do you think I went out shopping only to come back and find this… this little disgrace under my roof?!”

Y/N felt like she was going to faint from shame and embarrassment at any moment. She quickly stood up, grabbing her bag.

“I… think I better go…”

“Yes, dear, do it,” his mother replied, still indignant.

Pau looked at Y/N, clearly frustrated with the situation, but he knew there was no way around it. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a low groan.

“Mom… can we talk about this later?”

“Oh, we can, Pau. And believe me, we’re going to talk about it!” Her tone made Pau shrink back into the couch.

Y/N hurriedly left, feeling the shame burning all the way to her fingertips. And as I walked down the street, the only thing I could think was: how am I going to face his mother again after this?!

After that day, Y/N didn't talk to Pau anymore, ignoring him for three days straight. Refusing his calls, or even when he knocked on her apartment door. Her legs went weak when she opened the door after the doorbell rang and saw her mother-in-law there.

“Hi.” Was the only thing y/n could say.

He made room for the woman to come in. She took small steps and sat down on the couch in the girl's apartment.

“Hello, little y/n.” He smiled. “I just came to chat.”

“Okay, well…” he sat down next to her. “I’m sorry about that day at your house.

He laughed awkwardly.

“Okay, I came here to apologize to you. I treated you badly for something normal. I’m just not used to seeing my boy with someone.” She pauses. “I talked to my husband and we laughed remembering how we were when we were your age, and we were much worse.”

POOR THING, SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW. Y/n thought and looked up at her.

“Well… I’m sorry for doing that on your couch.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and laughed.

“We won’t forbid you from doing this, but please do it in your room.” She stood up, laughing. “Come in, big guy.

Cubarsí walked through the door like a shy puppy. Hiding behind his mother – which didn't do much good – he waited for some reaction from his girlfriend.

“Go, Barsi.”

She opened her arms and he ran to her. He nuzzled her neck and then laughed.

“I'm going to leave, don't forget, Pau...”

The woman stopped at the door.

“I’m too young to have a child.” He said dismissively.

“You can be sure that we won’t have babies.” Y/n laughed, hugging her boyfriend’s neck.

“Finally alone,” he said after watching his mother leave.

He lifted her off the ground, eliciting a small scream from her. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Let’s finish what we started in my living room” he kissed her neck walking to the bedroom.

[oferwood]

In the very definition of society, Thayer was better than William or at least he should have been perceived that way, but all William could see was a lonely, bitter man intent on making those around him just as sad. “I have no shame for what Cassandra, and I did,” William shook his head in defiance. “You took everything from me, ensured that there was nothing for me in Margate and I was left with no other choice!” Despite his better attempts, William’s voice was raised at the former prince. All that separated them was not titles or fortune, but fury and the lengths they would go to. 

William had assumed that Thayer was like every high-born man, pompous and impervious to those without a silver spoon in their mouth but it was deeper than that. There was rage within this man that William seemed to invoke just by breathing, but now he would no longer restrain himself, William could match it. “You are nothing to her.” William tried to regain some semblance of control, but that task evaded him. “Less than, you are the man that took away the one comfort she had in that miserable place.” William stopped suddenly, looking over the man with a mix of disgust and, what he assumed, clarity. “You are nothing to her, yet you covet what you say I stole.” William wanted to be sick, preferably over Thayer’s boots. 

“You know nothing about accountability. You buy your way out of every inconvenience to pretend to be above the rest, claiming to be the standard for all to fail to achieve yet I have proof that says otherwise.” William’s eyes bore into the man. The spoke of piety yet William had letters to prove otherwise. Unlike William, his uncle’s grudge of Thayer wasn’t as secret. Nothing about Thayer was redeemable, dismissing everyone around him for the sake of titles and reputations, knowing full well the misery that would soon follow. “You bedded every woman you could, catching god knows what, ruining their lives sowing your seed without consequence without a second thought and now Cassandra is your retribution?” William scoffed harshly. “She is no pawn or prize to be bartered with nor is she your absolution. Perhaps you consider who should be your responsibility.” 

"You speak of hypocrisy, but I have accountability for which you lack. I do not hide behind the woe of wetting my own wick and mistaking amusement for love, find the easy path to endearment and exploit it. I repent on my own and I do not commit the same wrongs repeatedly on the innocent. The very harm I know I have caused; I have found a place to ensure no one else commits if you want to rely on such rumours. What you do, William, is in greed and she is not your currency, your reconciliation prize, or your pawn."

Taking the bribe would forever be one of William’s biggest regrets and shame and he knew that Thayer would never let him forget it. “A lifeline presented itself when you took everything from me, and I was left without a choice.” Those words had echoed in William’s head for weeks, trying to find some clemency in this mistake while knowing he would still make that choice again. Having nothing was something Thayer would never have to endure.

There was no time to react as Thayer put hands on William. A normal response would have been a swift fist to the man’s jaw but instead William just took it, allowing the man to manage him in such a way while taking some satisfaction from it. “I will speak her name however I see fit, be it with affection or gratification, you have no bearing on that.” William tone of voice was biting, his mouth turning into a smug smile, curling at the corners of his lips. “I will remember how my name felt coming from her lips as only I could make her sound,” There was a line that William wouldn’t normally cross, but rage had made him blind. “And no matter your threats, nothing will change that.”

"And well deserved by your own hand and cock," Thayer interupted him. "You look for something to gain, because if you knew better, you would not be here. You should cower in shame and get out of this town and away from here, but instead you hold her like a conquest. If you had loved her, you would not have put a price on her innocence to coerce fortune into your hands."

His fist was tucked behind his back, concealed under his sleeve of crushed velvet. White knuckles wrapped around the very same curl of fingers in anger, to hold it back and beg for sedation. Would she forgive him? That concept dares him to unravel, to give into this taunt with mind and body until there was none of that left for William to make such an attempt again. Forgiveness was meant for those who still wanted to be good, those with a chance for heaven or hell. Thayer's facade of kindness would come to light under self preservation, old habits screaming in protest to take hold but far from genuine. He does need it, not when he is bound to this purgatory.

"I am not her father, or her brother, or her family. I do not reserve protecting what is right to not insult her if it will still bring her harm. My responsibility is to ensure her prosperity and her goodness— give back what you have taken from her so impulsively!"

He'd been a soldier most of his life, orders followed with blind loyalty even if it cracked every tooth. He had sworn he was the toothless dog too endearing to put down, but he can taste it now. The jagged grin he tried so long to conceal if there, drawing blood with every word. With this damned title, he will instill it's worth and selfishly. He is a knight, but to Cassandra alone.

"You speak of hypocrisy, but I have accountability for which you lack. I do not hide behind the woe of wetting my own wick and mistaking amusement for love, find the easy path to endearment and exploit it. I repent on my own and I do not commit the same wrongs over and over again on the innocent. The very harm I know I have caused, I have found a place to ensure no one else commits if you want to rely on such rumors. What you do, William, is in greed and she is not your currency, your reconciliation prize, or your pawn."

The control is gone, and every ache Thayer had used to convince himself to linger in submission comes with the sweetest relief. His hands are on William's collar, pulling his come to understand this is not protected by formalities. Fingers wrap around his jaw to keep him facing Thayer with the spine of steel he swears to have, only a roll of his eyes capable of pulling him away. It's almost a dare to open that insipid little mouth, but a calloused touch is ready to climb past the polished bone of his teeth and tear it apart just as he's promised.

"Say her name again, butcher it, and I will ensure you have no tongue to do it again. Do not coat it in affection to make it easier to swallow because she is not yours. What you have taken from her is all you ever will."

[looselipssinkships-x]

Run longways to the gym!

- helena - my chemical romance

- the phoenix - fall out boy

- bad side of 25 - patrick stump

Key gym songs

- america's suitehearts (fall out boy) as i was zoning out between sets on the hip adductor machine it brought me back ngl v good song

- death valley into run dry into hold me like a grudge the shuffle gods have shown favor on us tonight

Run home <3

- halloween - noah kahan

- (first verse and chorus of) love from the other side - fall out boy

[howhow326]

Me when I find out Mega Jynx has been found

Mega Jynx leaked artwork

[chipthekeeper]

There has never, in the history of characters, been a character that means more to me than Vel Sartha. I’ve been finding it difficult to express that feeling. That feeling of being so thankful and so appreciative that this fictional person has somehow made their way into your life and your heart. How is it even possible (much less healthy) to love someone that doesn’t exist so much? I still don’t know. I may never know. And I may go on a mile long rant now that doesn’t even begin to help you understand what she means to me. But all I can do is try.

If you follow me, you probably already know some of what I love to yell about Vel regularly:

She’s a world class yearner, she’s a sad little puppy, she’s a born rebel, she’s a spoiled rich girl. She’s a trusted leader, she’s a bitchy ex girlfriend, she’s a doting “aunt.” She’s pretty, pathetic, puppydog eyes (and oh my GOD her eyes!!). She cares. She loves. She fights. She makes mistakes and doesn’t trust herself as much as she should, but she trusts others and knows when to use their gifts over hers. She’s insecure but she’s commanding, she’s tough but understanding.

I hope you’ll forgive the weird venture into lyricism but it just came out that way. The point is, Vel is so interesting because she’s so contradictory, because she changes, because she puts on a different mask and becomes a different person but she's always the same at her core. She shapeshifts but she is also just fundamentally changed by what happens to her and her team. And that’s merely a piece of what I love about her.

Because it’s one thing just to get a Star Wars character who’s a woman who has so many sides and layers, but it’s an entirely other, more life-altering thing that that character is like me. That her first rebellion was against her own society, her own family, just because of who she is. I’m actually sobbing writing this because never in my life did I think I’d get to see something like this on screen in my favorite media. A real, canonical, undeniably, unapologetically queer woman with a whole personality AND a girlfriend. A character whose sexuality can’t be brushed away no matter how hard “they” might try to do so because IT IS ESSENTIAL TO WHO SHE IS. It is essential to her arc, her story, her motivations, to her interactions with other characters. And it’s not cheesy or preachy or boring or “toxic.” It’s real. It’s just real. It’s relatable. And it means the fucking world to me.

But even if you're not like me and that representation is cool to see but doesn't have the same effect on you, there is still plenty to appreciate about Vel Sartha. And actually, I really need to you appreciate her because -- and I know I'm biased but the numbers don't lie -- she is literally one of the most underrated characters on the show. With the third-highest amount of screen time behind only Cassian and Luthen, she should be up there among the most loved people in the series. And yet she's constantly overlooked and misunderstood. She never made a big speech and she didn't die interestingly or heroically. She didn't get to stab anyone or hit anyone with a brick. She just goes through some very real trauma and has a very real response to it, and people like to think that makes her weak and therefore not interesting as a rebel. Fortunately, though, it has become my life's duty to make everyone see the error in that logic.

When we first meet Vel, she is already so interesting as the leader of this little rebel band. She's the smallest one there but she has such a big presence. We find out right away that she wanted to lead, she wanted to be doing more and putting herself on the line. And she is good at it!! The men are resistant to the change she brings them but not because they don't respect her. She can command them with just a look, and she makes it known that even the big bad Imperial officer is not the boss, she is. Plus she's competent at the skills she needs -- she's a good shot and she looks right with the gun in her hands. You'd never know from watching that first arc that she started out as a spoiled rich girl.

Even when we see her weakness, though, it makes her more interesting. I love her insecurity as she watches Clem flirt with Cinta, I love the small looks of apprehension the day before the heist. I love how torn she is over how much to tell the team. And I especially love when the entire five-month-long operation nearly comes to a grinding halt as she looks down in fear from the top of the dam. But, to paraphrase my own fanfic, I don't think it's the height that causes Vel to hesitate, it's the weight. The weight of the biggest operation the rebellion has ever pulled, all on her shoulders. The weight of having to actually, finally make this decision to go or not, to send her team, her friends, into the unknown, to set off a chain of events that could turn the whole galaxy on its head. That’s SO much weight for such a small moment, and she almost crumbles under it. And even though she ultimately doesn't, I know it continues to weigh on her after the job because if she hadn't wasted all that time up there, maybe they'd have all made it out alive.

And this is where the switch happens for Vel. After all her men are dead and she's only barely made it out to see another day with Cinta, she's completely different. She's small again, scared and unsure. The confident, gritty leader she became on Aldhani died with the rest of them. She still puts on the masks when she has to and she's still a rebel, still dedicated to the cause, but she needs a break and some time to process her guilt. That's something I think people don't take into account enough with Vel. It was never that she was "cosplaying a rebel" or whatever people started to think once they learned who she is, it's that she feels responsible for losing almost her entire team.

But she has Cinta to remind her that there's not really time to take a break, and, because they are complementary halves of each other, she also reminds Cinta later that it is important to rest. I don't need to get into another ridiculously long rant about them as a couple (you can see my presentation for more if you need it), but suffice to say....this is a huge part of her character. Her love and devotion to Cinta might appear as a weakness to some, but to me it's an absolutely essential element of Star Wars: saving what you love, not fighting what you hate. Vel goes through most of the second half of the season timid and anxious, but when she thinks Cinta's life could be in danger, she literally sprints into the fire to try to find her, to save her. What could be braver than that?

I truly could go on and on for days about her, as I have for the past 800-plus days already (I took fully 10 pages of notes to prepare for this and we have BARELY scratched the surface here), but I'm sure I've lost most people already. The last thing I need to talk about though is that I owe Faye Marsay my life. She did such an amazing job with Vel, playing all the different sides of her so perfectly and conveying so many emotions and thoughts with just her face or her eyes. And beyond that, it's incredibly moving to see an actually queer actor playing a queer character in a franchise this big, and to see her be so proud of that work of "normalizing the normal" is equally thrilling. I would kill to have her play Vel for decades, selfishly, but I'll continue to be so ridiculously happy with every single moment of them both that I do get.

In conclusion (for now), please please please appreciate this tiny but monumental character, because my mental health depends on it but also because she absolutely deserves it.

"Everyone has their own rebellion," Vel tells us, and mine is destined to be against everyone who dares to underrate her.

Character Appreciation Friday - Vel Sartha

Name: Vel Sartha Played by: Faye Marsay Appearances: Aldhani, The Axe Forgets, The Eye, Announcement, Narkina 5, Nobody's Listening!, Daughter of Ferrix, Rix Road

Happy Friday and happy VELENTINE'S DAY, gang!!! Look I'm not gonna act like this is a normal one because that would be very dishonest of me. This is the most important day of the year for me, and I'd really really really love if everyone would help out with spreading appreciation and love for my number one sad girl rebel.

Please let me know what you appreciate about dear Vel in a reblog, comment, or ask!

Next week: Brasso

[bats-and-the-birds]

The Batkids on being mistaken as Bruce's biological children.

Look, the Batkids have all been forced into various social gatherings, and enough of them share vague features with Bruce that some of the older members among Gotham's old money, or the younger ones that are out of the loop, sometimes mix up the facts.

Dick gets it from the very beginning. Old women pinch his cheeks, still tan from a life outside of Gotham's gloom, and tell him, Such a sweet little boy, and just like your father at your age. His hair used to stick up just like yours. Dick didn't like it at all. He bit the first person that told him he had Bruce's eyes, and stomped on the foot of an old politician that told him, With your father's height, I thought you'd be taller by now.

He laughs it off as an adult, but sometimes, it still eats at him. People still tell him that they thought he'd eventually be as tall as Bruce, or that he should be thankful for his inherited jaw line. It's not the comparison to Bruce that bothers him anymore, or even being mistaken as his son, but rather, the fact that he sometimes struggles to remember exactly where his features actually came from; parental faces turning fuzzy in his distant memory.

Jason thinks it's funny, the first time it happens. Mostly because it's his nose of all things. Your nose is bent, grumbled the old man sitting across from him at the gala, Just like your father's. Tough luck on the genetics. The man didn't realize the bent noses were because they'd both been broken in the past. Jason spent days after studying Bruce's face, trying to figure out if their noses really bent in the same way, and eventually came to the conclusion that, yeah, they really did. From that point on, each time either of them broke their nose, Jason would distantly think, Ah, damn, there goes the family resemblance.

As an adult, Jason takes care to make sure people don't often seen his face. The hood does a pretty good job of that. Besides, he doesn't move in circles where the mistake could be made anymore. Still, sometimes he looks in the mirror at the bump in his nose and thinks, Family resemblance. Yeah, right.

It happens less with Tim. Anyone that made the mistake with Jason and Dick also remembered Jack and Janet Drake. It's not until he's almost an adult that a new hire at Wayne Industries, some kid from out of town, sees him and Bruce in the office together and remarks, Oh, you two furrow your eyebrows in the same way when you think. My mom says that my dad and I do that too. We inherited it from my grandpa. Tim feels unsettled all day and makes a conscious effort to not to furrow his eyebrows anymore.

There's no mistake to make with Damian. At least, not the same one that can be made with the others. He's the blood son, and he's a perfect mix between Bruce and Talia. Of course, there's the well-meaning, if confused, adults that assume he's adopted like the others. He corrects them, swiftly, and sometimes aggressively.

There is one incident. It happens while Bruce is gone, after he's been staying with Grayson for a few months. He knew, of course, that people thought that Grayson looked like Bruce. He could even see the similarities. Superficially, of course. However, he never considered that Grayson looking like his father also meant that Grayson looked like him. Not until an old woman leaned over to him at a gala and said, You look just like your father when Mister Wayne first brought him out to these things. The hair, that disgruntled little frown. He hated these parties too. Couldn't ever sit still. Gosh, I really can't believe it's been long enough that he has a child of his own. It took Damian a while to realize what happened, and even then, he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he wasn't actually Grayson's son, or that he and Grayson weren't actually that far apart in age. He felt strangely guilty the rest of the night, and he never dared to tell Grayson about it.

It happened to Steph exactly once. Really, she doesn't look like Bruce at all. It was a man with exceptionally thick glasses, who actually told her that she reminded him of Martha Wayne. She's pretty sure he was just trying to be nice. She tries to forget about it. She never tells Bruce.

You have his eyes, is what Duke gets. Which confuses him, because, uh, no, he doesn't. Not even close like Dick's. He says as much to the woman that said it to him, and she squints her eyes at him and responds, No, you definitely do. Not in the shape or the color, but you look at things the same way he does. Duke thinks about that sometimes, and he swings back and forth between being annoyed and weirdly proud that he apparently looked at the world like Batman did.

People tell Cass that she has his smile. She beams with pride at that. After all, she learned it from him. She studied, closely, the way his mouth ticked up at the corners, both while he stretched the dazzling, fake smile across his face for the public, and the genuine, gentle smiles that he gave her while he helped tie her hair back or slip on her mask, and now she could replicate them both perfectly. She didn't like the fake one, but she knew it was necessary.